Dearest Jamie in the Fall of 1984,

You are so dang cute sitting in the hallway waiting to go to your first grade classroom.  You made it through kindergarten and you are about to have the nicest teacher you will ever have, and the whole elementary school is ahead of you.

Here's the deal …. those two fifth grade boys that just walked by and made fun of your new hairdo are douchbags and you shouldn't even give them another thought.  What kind of fifth grader makes fun of a first grader sitting alone in the hall waiting to go to class.  You have to be a really lousy person to do that.  Dry up your tears and don't let them get to you.

Although I know that you will not remember much about your childhood, but you will always remember this, I want to tell you that you will not be defined by this.  This may end up becoming one of those funny stories you tell around the table each year at Thanksgiving, but that's all it is.  A funny story.

Pick yourself up and be proud of that perm your mom had the beauty school ladies put in your hair.  No one needs to know that it took 5 hours and they burned most of your hair off.  Also be proud of the big gap where you took matters into your own hands and cut some bangs for yourself.  Girl, you look good and you are learning how to express yourself.

Also listen close as I whisper this in your little 6 year old ears, this will not be the first hair drama you endure in your life.  In fact this will be the least hair drama of your worries.

Now carry on and go learn how to read.  First grade rocks.  Those beauty school ladies did you good, and those fifth grade boys are so lame to pick on a first grader.

Love,

Jamie in 2013