So here it is . A letter from you to you, although not a you you would necessarily recognise. Inside or out. I've thought long and hard about what pearls of wisdom I could pass on to you. Some high brow philosophical advice that would ensure your life was sweet and trouble free.
Without sounding like our Dad, life is not a bowl of cherries. You have a long way to go before you feel comfortable in your own skin, and I don't think that there is any advice I can give you that will make it any different. A couple of things though. Don't worry about having no boobs. They will come in time, and you will spend your twenties able to go without a bra, and still hold a pencil in between them!
Oh and get used to your hair. No amount of hype on the shampoo bottles will make it thick and lustrous, so don't waste your time reading the back of the bottle in the shower. The good thing is that you haven't got any grey hair. Not likely to either, which is a good thing because you are never going to be cut out for a high maintenance lifestyle.
Go out and buy a bikini, and wear it until you are at least twenty five. Constantly. You have a cracking figure. Toned, athletic. Just walk around naked if you like. Don't you dare start comparing yourself to your friends. You will never be tall. You will never be curvy. You will never marry the boy you meet at fifteen.
Don't be too hard on our Mum. You and her become very close. Although you will only appreciate her when you have children of your own (yes you do, but I'm not telling you how many or what kind. Spoil the surprise), stop and think once in a while about what she does for you and the rest of the family. Don't put Dad on too high a pedestal either. He's only human, and he'll display that spectacularly down the line.
Work a bit harder at school. It's a cliche, I know, but it will open your options when your older and I'd love you to have the confidence to go for it. Oh and do a different Uni course. Classics is sooooooo dull. Choose something that you want to do, rather than what someone tells you to do.
Travel. A lot. All over. Before you're about twenty seven or so. Go to America. See it all. Move over there for a while. Take Marc (long story) with you. Just drift about a bit, and don't get too bogged down in being all grown up. You are forty two now, and you still feel fifteen at times.
Oh and we still want to write. Remember what we said to Miss Parkin, and she just raised her eyebrows and suggested that a being a copper would pay the rent more effectively? It still makes me mad today. It put a tiny kernel of doubt in our head, which has never left. So please ignore her. You never know, it may just be the making of you. xxx
A few atmospheric shots for you to ooh and ahh at. Have a great weekend.