In most cases, I forget about throwback thursday. I do however, love seeing people’s pictures and participate occasionally. Well I was at my parents on Sunday and spotted this gem. The above exhibit is me. In all my Senior picture glory. I posted it on Instagram and Twitter and had friends and family and high school friends I still keep in touch with comment on it. It’s not a bad picture at all, I think it’s just striking to see the girl I was and the woman I became. Above, Catholic school, probably 17-year old Lauren thought sitting in some leaves in khakis and lavender was a great idea. I would also like to remember the who cut my thick ass hair into a terrible bob. HELLO NO. Not pictured, my rose gold butterfly necklace from my high school boyfriend Dan. SERIOUSLY. I look, and no offense to anyone, that I am ready for a life of 4 kids before 30, a Republican voter registration and an active participation in a Church group. None of those happened. Thank god. And then I sit and wonder. What changed all that? Did anything? My friend Nick informed me this is “vintage prepster Lauren”. This would effectively, never happen again. I CRINGE AT THE VERY THOUGHT OF KHAKIS. And turtleneck sweaters? Not happening. Okay so let’s do a quick then and now:

Then: 17, Catholic School. cheerleader, matched my eyeshadow to my knee highs to my sweaters at school, smoked, liked mikes hard lemonade, believed all in organized religion (this would change soon after), wore khakis and lipsmackers, saved lunch money for beer, drove a red escort (suzy speedracer), was probably surface, surface surface.

Now: 29, don’t smoke, do not practice Catholicism, despise khakis and pastels, have tattoos, interested in books, music, art, cheese, champagne and wine, life, travel and fun, love sports, have a big mouth and a lot of opinions.

I don’t think I can say any one thing made any of these things change or happen or anything. I think, just to me, the contrast of who I was and who I became is striking. Did I like country music then? I know I liked rap, Tupac hung up in my locker. What did I even want to be when I grew up? I don’t know if I knew that then. I don’t know if I know that now. I still can’t do math, I still cry over dumb shit, and I still would do anything for the people I love with the bleeding heart of a kid. I remember going through a brief mean girl phase in high school. I didn’t stick with that. That’s not my nature. And I’m glad I learned and embraced being friends with everyone of all sorts. In a private school that’s not always easy to find and public school education earlier in my life, paired with my friends outside my school, helped as well. I think in a way, when I left high school and didn’t go away to school but went locally and worked and partied and met new people and got more into music and art and writing and thinking, I shifted. And I think when Amanda passed away, that was it. Life is short. And that’s, effectively when I stopped caring what anyone thought. I bet I always didn’t care, but my inner people pleaser, didn’t know how to say it. Now I do. And I think we all have a bit of the inner banker and the inner rockstar. As I sit in my office right now, I am looking at a picture of me and Amanda, she’s in a Marilyn Manson tank, I’m in an Ambercrombie tee. But I’m wearing a beaded necklace, not a rose gold butterfly. The shift was happening. So I look at the picture above, not as a what I could of been or what I should of been, but rather, just a wow. I’m cool with me. I’m comfortable in my skin. Dress me up or dress me down, I can find my place. I used to say I have a bent image of what I imagine to be a perfect future. Selling seashells on the beach, barefoot, tan, in a dress and tangled hair vs. a power lunch in Chanel, with martini’s and a active membership in the United Club and a Black AMEX card. I’d be fine with either. The girl above probably would be too. Life is a funny thing. For some people, it seems that their life is mapped out step by step. And often, those very carefully laid cobblestones are followed, with nary a toe ever touching the soft grass beneath. For others, we bend, we grow, we shift or we stay. There is no true way, no true way but you. If people wanna come along with you, great, if not. Go alone. And if you want a mushroom haircut and a khakis to go along for the ride. Why not.

xoxoxox