When I was fifteen…

“Mummy, in ten years I will be FIFTEEN which is a grown up!”

That is quite possibly the scariest thing that has ever come out of my son’s mouth. Fifteen? I remember all too well who I was and what I was doing at fifteen.

At fifteen I smoked, I drank (like a fish – white lightning cider and 20/20 do not mix well), I fell in love (lust), lost my virginity, had my heart broken (crushed in fact, which I replayed repeatedly to Tom’s Late Night Love-In on the radio as I sobbed into my pillow), I wore ridiculously high mules and suitably short dresses and had a heavier hand with the eye liner than David Bowie ever did.

Don’t get me wrong, at 15 there were some amazing things that I miss to this day, probably most of all the ability to leave the house braless, without tripping over something. At fifteen I was┬áinvincible, I was sure, I was so┬ánaive.

What do you remember about being 15? For the most part I loved being 15, heart-break aside, and if I could reach back and grab my 15yr old self I think rather than tell her not to do things she did or make the mistakes she did I would just give her a big hug and let her get on with it. My teenage years went a long way towards defining what and who I would become later on.

Tell me about your 15yr old self.

And for those who were 15yr old girls, and now have grown up boys, tell me it’ll be easier!

 

photo by photoproject2004 via PhotoRee