Thirteen

[shadesong]

Here's what Adam and I are giving Elayna for her thirteenth birthday on Saturday - a custom necklace by kythryne, with thirteen leaves and thirteen flowers.

Thirteen is a big birthday. A big year. A big change.

So tell Elayna - what was thirteen like for you?

Comments to this post will be presented to Elayna bound in the best format I can manage on short notice. :)

Comments

[feste-sylvain.livejournal.com]

For me, thirteen was just Hell. I am trying to remember something positive, anything positive, about being thirteen, and I'm not coming up with anything.

If you think that a detailed description of Hell would be useful for the bound comments, I can try to depict some of it.

[shadesong.livejournal.com]

Erm. Something along the lines of "Thirteen sucks but I lived through it" would be better than graphic descriptions of Hell.

[feste-sylvain.livejournal.com]

When I was thirteen, I found myself on the receiving end of a gigantic number of expectations, from my parents, from my peers, and from myself. I was now supposed to be old enough to deal with it all. I was now old enough to know better.

The problems were many, but they boiled down to this: the large expectations contradicted the others. It was literally not possible to live up to them.

Penalties for failure were many, delivered mostly by my peers, but often by myself. Many times, I just wanted to give up.

Never give up. It all gets better, even if not immediately. Survive to tell the tale, and one day, you'll find yourself not just surviving but really living.

[felician-logic.livejournal.com]

When I was thirteen - my mom let me walk into the world o' woman by doing the following -

She let me cut my waist length hair into a short boy cut (which suited me better, tomboy that I am).
She took me to get my ears double pierced (all the rage at that time).
We went to see Cats at the Shubert in LA.
We had a spa day on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills.

All of that was fun. But the best part of the day was when she included me on a conversation with her sisters (my aunts - eight total) about organizing the family Christmas party. We drank wine and ate good Mexican food and discussed all the deeper family business that I hadn't been privy to. Not all of it was fun and games - serious business was discussed. It was being welcomed and respected as one of them instead of as a child to be watched.

I would have missed the spa day, the haircut, and Cats if it meant I could have spent more time with them.

The earrings though were not negotiable. :)

[robyn-ma.livejournal.com]

When I was 13, my parents split up. Kinda traumatic at the time, but in retrospect I see that I really threw myself into doing writing and art. It all kind of shaped who I am today.

When life hands you lemons, make comics.

[rain-herself.livejournal.com]

When I was 13, I had an autograph book, and my dad wrote something in it that I read again and again until I was probably 22 or so. He was absolutely right.

The years between 13 and 21 are the best and the worst of your life. The most difficult and the most rewarding, the most confusing and the most enlightening, the most frustrating and the most fun. The times when you have no idea who you are will help you decide who you want to become - and it's entirely up to you. It will be scary sometimes, other times you will feel invincible. Be careful during both.

[marnanel.livejournal.com]

I had heard grown-ups say rude things about the behaviour of the teenagers these days. On the morning of my thirteenth birthday I realised that I was now one of the teenagers these days, and I hid under my blankets. But it wasn't as bad as they'd made out, and in the end I found that nobody dictated my behaviour except me.

[e-scapism101.livejournal.com]

Thirteen...I got a Labradore Retriever puppy (chocolate colored) for my birthday...I was on crutches after having minor surgery on a toe...I still played with Barbies when no one was looking...I was obsessed with Trixie Belden...I was still some time away from my first kiss, first boyfriend, first real heartbreak, but I couldn't wait for those things to happen. It was a frustrating time of being both a girl and a woman, and being neither, too, and wanting things I didn't know how to name.

I'm glad I did it once, but you couldn't pay me to do it again.

Good luck, Elayna!

[lawbabeak.livejournal.com]

Thirteen was a terrible year for me. I was already well into puberty, but my body went into overdrive - I think my boobs went up a size-and-a-half overnight. I had yucky pink and purple stretch marks. My emotions were all over the place. My heart got broken. Thirteen was the closest I ever came to attempting to kill myself.

BUT! I did some really cool stuff in the church choir that year. I started going to youth retreats, which led me to actually investigate my faith. Many years later, I determined Christianity just wasn't for me (probably not the intended results the planners of the retreats had in mind).

I grew into the boobs, and the stretch marks faded. I finally found a deodorant that worked. The powers of emotional introspection that were overwhelming at 13 have served me quite handily since.

Among my friends, the early teenage years seemed to be stories of extremes: either really, really good, or really, really awful. I think my male friends had a harder time of it than female friends.

Elayna, you will be OK. You are entering into the roller coaster of young-adultdom. Stay safe, and have fun.

[blergeatkitty.livejournal.com]

Weirdly, I always think of my teenage years as traumatic, but thirteen was not a bad year for me all things considered. Fourteen was awesome too, and it all started to go pear-shaped when I went away to school at fifteen, but that's another story.

Now, granted, I have fifteen years of hindsight between then and now, but here are the major things I remember from that year:

• Placing at the state geography bee because I knew what a "megalopolis" was - History and Geography are still my favorite subjects.
• Getting my period, being pretty much the last girl I knew who hadn't had it yet, and being tremendously relieved.
• Listening to the 10,000 Maniacs album "Our Time in Eden" nonstop, and campaigning hard (but unsuccessfully) to have "These Are Days" be our eighth-grade graduation song.
• Taking cello lessons and thinking that was pretty badass.
• Being the president of the Computer Club and playing hours and hours of Zork and Oregon Trail, then going to my friend Katie's house afterward in hopes that I'd run into her older brother Ray (he and I crushed on each other mutually from roughly 1991 to 1998...and knowing that someone I liked actually liked me back, even though we never really dated...that was the best feeling ever).
• Prank-calling Ray at my friend Jessie's sleepover. I think he knew it was me.
• Wearing a button on my jean jacket that said "Hillary's Husband for President" and having lengthy arguments with my scarily-religious friends about why Clinton was the best. (Who knew I'd be an Obama girl in '08?)
• Being in eighth grade, which meant generally ruling the school...okay, I was never popular by any definition, and yeah I got made fun of for being brainy, but I still felt pretty close to the top of the heap. And right there in front of me where I could see it - high school, and all the promises that held. At the time it seemed like it would be pretty sweet. Freshman year totally was, too.

[lootsfoz.livejournal.com]

Thirteen is when I paid a price for trying to be something I'm not. I was convinced I'd be happier and more popular as a blonde, and tried using spray-in lightener to help achieve a lighter hair color. My mom gave me a hair frosting kit for Christmas, and we used it in January, with terrible results. My hair, which was past my shoulders, wound up as over-processed mush, and most had to be cut off. What was left had no color, so I looked 40.
At 13, I had several un-requited crushes, and felt like my lack of a boyfriend defined who I was. I'd love to go back and time and straighten myself out.
Thirteen means going through a lot of changes, mentally, physically, and emotionally. Keep a journal and stay true to yourself.

I posted the column I wrote about that traumatic event here...
http://lootsfoz.livejournal.com/1398.html#cutid1

[dulcinbradbury.livejournal.com]

I'm with you there. I came close to a much more serious problem due to trying to be something I wasn't at that age, but, I had my share of "what was I thinking?" moments. (I know exactly what I was thinking. I wanted to be liked and to fit in.)

[dulcinbradbury.livejournal.com]

When I was about twelve, things started to get *better* for me. I'd been picked on and reviled before that. Oddly enough, it stopped around then. But... I can tell you the hardest parts of being thirteen itself is that everyone "grows up" at a different pace and not always as much as they think.

I remember meeting a boy who gave me his phone number. My best friend told me to call him. She was boy crazy at the time. I wasn't. While he seemed nice enough, I was afraid he was just teasing me and would laugh at me if I called. Looking back at it, I'm pretty sure I was wrong.

My best friend & another friend were camping with my parents that summer. We met a few boys who were older. My friends wanted to lie about their age and I didn't. I still regret not standing up to them on that one. My parents fortunately were brilliant. They invited the guys to come over to our campsite. One of the guys finally asked "So how old are you anyway?" The three of us went silent. My father cracked out with "Apparently not old enough to count." And that was the end.

Afterwards, my parents explained statutory rape to me. I felt *terrible* on multiple levels. One of which was that I just wasn't interested and wasn't remotely ready for these things. Now I look back and I'm fortunate for the fact that my parents were fairly strict. I could always blame my parents for not letting me do something that I really didn't want to do anyway. It took off a lot of the pressure from other people.

Standing up to your peers is hard at the time, but, you'll be glad you did in the long run. Your friends may change because you're no longer interested in the same things. That is *really* hard at the time, but, it will work out. It's okay to be a "late bloomer" or an early one -- as long as you're doing what makes *you* comfortable.

MizA rambles....

[mizarchivist]

13 was a radical time of transition for me. At 12 I was in 7th grade, the first year of junior high in my town. I went from a small, friendly school to a big and mean one that required lockers and timed room changes (aie!). My tomboy appearance was not acceptable anymore and it was time- according to my classmates- to CONFORM. So I grew my hair out that year.
By 13 boys were suddenly my focus. I had a total of 3 boyfriends in succession in 8th grade, which was a record until late college. The first 2 boys were not a good match. Really really. The 3rd was the best and yet I was most reluctant to ignore peer pressure that argued he was a dweeb. Since then I've embraced my differentness with great abandon.
I remember loving choir. I drew and did art on my own; made horrible proto-emo compilations on cassette tapes; taped pictures of hair bands on my walls; did track & field; and hung out with my girlfriends incessantly. I still talk to the two closest ones to this day on a fairly regular basis.

Being 13 was intensely difficult. My body was a war zone of hormones and I was entirely unprepared to adapt to a much more antagonistic school environment. I got through it and learned really important things from my experiences. Would that it didn't have to be so hard, but that's what makes us adapt and survive, I suppose.

Good luck, chica. You'll do great.

[amenquohi.livejournal.com]

Elayna -

Thirteen was a door wide open, and a world of endless possibilities. Then along came high school, college, job(s), marriage, more jobs, mortgages, car payments, babies....somehow, life got kind of closed in and narrow. I became focused on better jobs for more money and 'I need this' and 'Why don't we have that' and it spirals and spirals ever inward. If I could wish anything for you, it's that you don't grow up - grow back. Remember that every day is wide open, and the world starts over every single morning when you open your eyes. Keep that, Elayna. You've got it now, in spades. Hold it tight to you and wear it like a cloak. It'll see you through whatever follows thirteen, I promise.

dear elayna:

[sdn.livejournal.com]

happy thirteenth. mine was one of the worst years ever in my life (twelve was bad, so was fourteen); from talking to you i know you're already way better off than i was. keep moving; all things will change and pass; remember you are not your emotions (you have them, if you know what i mean).

sdn

[ringrrl416.livejournal.com]

When you are 13 you might feel awkward, or like a weirdo. But everyone, even the most confident looking people, feel awkward, or like an outcast. Those confident looking people are just really good at faking it. Everyone has awkward days, and every one has days when their hair falls just right and everyone has days when they feel like they could take on the world, and everyone has days when they feel like they are drowning in the things they have to do.

When you are 13 you also have some of the best times of your life, with great friends, and by yourself. 13 is when you really start to find yourself.

You will grow physically and mentally. And at times some of this might seem like the worst thing in the world, but I Promise its not. Everyone has an awkward stage. Everyone gets overwhelmed. But everyone also grows out of the awkward. and everyone always pulls through the overwhelming times.

When I was 13 I went through a period of about 2 weeks where I would cry hysterically everyday. For no reason at all, other than I felt like crying. My mom was convinced that something was going on that I wasn't telling her about, but I promise there was nothing going on. But you know what? its ok to cry sometimes. Sometimes you do not understand your emotions, you do not understand why you feel a certain way, and if crying helps make you feel better, then cry. Just don't let it consume you.

I think the best advice anyone can tell a person turning 13 is the following: Just be yourself. It might seem like being you is not good enough at times. but be yourself and your life will fall into place

Happy birthday Elayna!

[fmh.livejournal.com]

I can't remember. I wish I could but almost everything before I came to live in the States is sort of fuzzy and getting vaguer every. Part of the memory destroying damage I caused with my painkiller abuse I suspect.

[rubian77.livejournal.com]

Thirteen would have put me in 7th/8th grades...eep, it was a hard time for me -- not the age itself, it's all from stuff that started when I was 11 (moving to a new town, being "the outsider," etc). But in retrospect, there were some good things that happened. Happy memories, such as the following:

* I sat in the back of my American History class and flipped well-sharpened pencils into the acoustical tiling on the ceiling. The longer ones seemed to have better aerodynamics than the shorter ones, and I ended up with quite a collection up there by the end of the year because no one noticed they were there, or couldn't get them down.

* The boy who was my worst enemy from 5th-6th grade became one of my best friends (we still talk from time to time). At the time people accused us of having crushes on each other - which we did, and we sent a few letters back and forth, but never dated. I danced with him at my senior prom... I found out a few years ago he was gay.

* There was a boy in my homeroom who would greet me every morning with an insult. One day, I had had enough and finally found a retort that shut him up for good. He actually wrote something quasi-witty in my yearbook when I wasn't looking.

* I impressed my reading teacher by going to the X's in the dictionary when he gave a verbal order to find the word "Xanthippe" - everyone else started in the Z's (since it's pronounced "Zan-tippy").

* I learned a little bit of French. Not enough to remember, but a little.

* I crawled over a fence to get to the grocery store because I tried to get there "the back way" - this was in the course of shopping for Home Ec Class.

* My world history teacher laughed and said, "I figured you would," when I told him I was going to do my report on the Black Death. He was my favorite teacher, and I was lucky enough to have him for Civics in 10th grade and Psychology in 12th grade.

* I sculpted a tiger out the 10" of snow we got one day. My father called the newspaper and someone came out to get my picture - my science teacher posted the clipping on his door.

* I think 13 was the age I stopped plucking out the gray hairs I was finding and decided to just let them grow, hoping they'd make a sassy blaze that I could braid together. :)



Of course there are ups and downs - that's life, on the whole. But the most important part of any age is to have fun and to do something just for yourself every day, no matter how small it may be.

[blergeatkitty.livejournal.com]

We had that same tile in the ceiling of the band room, and we used to do that with broken drumsticks!

[ianhess.livejournal.com]

Thirteen is the year I finished growing at 6'3" 250 pounds. That left me very much outside the framework of most of what was going on in the social side of school, but in a way where I didn't get picked on much. It was the year I started really to learn playing music, and its the first year I did much writing, both of which are still important parts of my life. It was the year I had my first girlfriend, but I completely lacked the words to say things right. It was a good year.

[spoothbrush.livejournal.com]

I was 13 in 1993, and 13 was one of the most confusing years I can remember, looking back.

It was a great year for music and the most hopeful “things are looking up” year on the political front that I can remember -- the Clintons had just moved into the White House and they had a daughter about my age and I thought that the country would only get better from there.

It was a great year for me academically (I had some really interesting classes and some great teachers) and socially (my group of junior high friends I still remember as being pretty awesome). It was a year when I was really able to stretch out and start finding out who I was and not have my classmates give me a hard time for whatever happened to surface in any given week. (The teasing and the pressure to conform, for me, were much worse in elementary school than in junior high or high school.) I got to play a pirate queen in my school play with a lobster on my shoulder instead of a parrot, which was one of my favorite things ever.

I had a couple of huge, simultaneous crushes on classmates, which was part of the confusing but also part of the exciting. I was in that stage where you talk about sex a lot with your friends but never have to worry about it becoming anything more than talk or causing problems or drama, which is a huge luxury that not all of my classmates had.

But at the same time, the depression/self-loathing/hurtingsomuch that I’d been dealing with since I was in third grade was almost as bad as it ever got, and I was scratching and cutting myself on about a daily basis and spending half my time in this closed world of suicidal ideation and writing some really, really awful poetry.

So I look back on 13 and I see all of this great, awesome stuff that was so much fun… and I see myself vibrating between the awesome and the abyss. And honestly, I don't think that I could have had one without the other -- I threw myself into so much to get away from hating myself. The good, the bad -- it's all stuff that you can grow from, if you can just get through it.

If I could give you one piece of advice on being 13, though, it would be this: Don’t join the BMG Music club or Columbia House (if they still even exist). It sounds like a great idea, but, so not.

[dustyskinandall.livejournal.com]

Dear Elayna,

When I turned thirteen I was SO HAPPY to be able to refer to myself as a teenager. When I wanted a little more responsibility or freedom from my parents and they were reluctant, I'd say, "But MOM, I'm a TEEEEEENAGER now!"
It didn't usually work, but it was fun to try.

I learned a lot about myself at thirteen. I learned that I didn't really care that much if people thought I was weird. I started doing theatre, and never stopped. I learned that when I sang, people liked it.
I spent just as much time on my own as I did with my friends, and I didn't mind the alone time. I started writing in a paper journal every day.
I had crushes on LOTS of boys, but they only lasted for a few days or weeks and I never had a boyfriend until much later. I was ok with that.

In a lot of ways, I think I am fundamentally still the same girl I was at 13, because I still do most of the things I loved to do then.

I hope you discover lots of new joys this year and that you carry them with you for as long as they bring you happiness.

Congratulations on being a teenager!

[shaeberry.livejournal.com]

Thirteen was for me what it is for so many--all about finding myself. I had a boyfriend because it was "cool", but conveniently he lived quite a few states away (we met at a summer camp) so my very definite, very strong on my very female English teacher posed no problems for our adolescent love. :P In my Unitarian Church, I was learning all about sex and sexuality in our wonderful class on human life. At times it overwhelmed me, but I took pride in knowing far more than my peers about what it meant to be a sexual being. Educate yourself. It feels wonderful to be knowledgeable, rather than confused and suffocated by expectations.

I learned what it meant to be accepted into a community. I tried too hard to be preppy. It failed. I learned then that being myself was far more effective in terms of existing happily. I also learned what true betrayal felt like--it hurt harder than I could ever imagine it would, but it made me a stronger person, and a stronger friend.

Thirteen was one of the most confusing, tumultuous, dizzying, overwhelming, crazy, and beautiful years of my life. I went through more changes as a person that year than in many other years of my life--and I'm still young. I hated it, I loathed it, I wanted to get out, but the view from where I am today is wonderful. I know I treated myself in the most respectful way I possibly could, and that's what's important. Don't judge yourself or malign yourself in order feel like you fit in. Just be open to whoever you might want to be at any given moment; it will give you life experience and understanding like you've never dreamed.

I hope you have a wonderful birthday, and a wonderful year!

(Also, keep reading. Read voraciously. Books can get you through absolutely anything. It's kinda freaky.)

[shaeberry.livejournal.com]

*very definite, very strong crush

Sometimes, I forget to write words. :P

[jenstclair.livejournal.com]

I wrote my first novel when I was thirteen. It was a good year. :)

[rosefox]

Twelve was the big divider for me, because the end of elementary school and the start of high school was huge huge huge. (My high school went from 7th to 12th grade; no middle school.) Being 12 was all about throwing myself into the new social opportunities, making new friends, exploring this world where suddenly people of different ages--people in six different grades!--could all talk to one another and join the same clubs and work on the same magazines. I'd never had so many friends, so many friendly acquaintances. It made me giddy.

I soon realized that thanks to being an outcast for most of my life, I didn't know how to be a good friend, and that I had better start learning if people were going to be good friends with me. And I watched people around me, and I learned.

Being 13 was about learning how to figure out which friends are worth keeping, which friendly acquaintances are worth pursuing, which arguments are tiffs and which end friendships. I learned who was likely to be bluntly honest and who was likely to badmouth me to other people. I started absorbing all the subtleties of human interaction that had escaped me before, when I was completely shut out by most people my age.

I also started learning how to shift out of the chase-around-the-playground style of courtship and into actually talking to people I thought were cute. I learned that it was good to make friends first and see if dating happened after that. I decided that I might be bisexual, but that I'd better kiss some guys and some girls just to make sure. (It took another year and a half to find a guy to kiss, and a little longer than that to find a girl, but the thought was there.) My body was changing, and I tried to keep up with it, though I didn't always succeed. Other people's reactions to my body were also changing, and I slowly figured out how to deal with that.

Really, the most important thing was learning how to talk to my peers. I knew how to be a child showing off to adults. I never learned how to be a child talking to other children. This was my chance to start over, to be a teenager talking with other teenagers. I seized the chance and ran with it, and I've never regretted that for a moment.

I hope it's a wonderful year for you, Elayna.

[emilytheslayer.livejournal.com]

I don't remember much about 13. It wasn't the worst year of my life, that was 6th grade, when I was 10-11. So hey, no matter how frustrating teenage years can be, who cares once they're over? I also chopped all my hair off at some point that year, and started high school, got into competitive drama and debate, and a bunch of other stuff. But mostly it didn't feel that different to me. You're going to be fine.

[eilonwy.livejournal.com]

One of those in-between years is going to be difficult, be it 12, 13, 14... And I think lots of us like to blame 13 because the change in numbering matches with the changes in our worlds and our bodies and our minds. My parents and I still joke about how awful I was at 13, and mainly I remember storming up the stairs after fighting with my mom, making as much noise as possible, and then slamming my bedroom door shut.

But 13 makes you stronger. The world begins to blossom for you, at 13, and sometimes its the frightening, wonderful, awful, fascinating sight of the future that makes 13 so difficult-- do you rush forward or hide?

Your 13, Elayna, will not be my 13 or anyone else's. If your 13 ends up being tough, know that not only will you get through it, but you have most amazingly wonderful parents to help you. And in the dark moments of 13, or any year, remember that you are a strong, incredible young woman surrounded by a world of possibilities. 13 is just another beginning.

May 13 bring you joy and happiness, and a filling of your life with even more love than it has now.

[mydochas.livejournal.com]

Hi Elayna,

You don't know me, not a little not at all :P So when your mom posted this I thought there was no way it was my place to put a comment in cause, hey, how weird would that be? But the truth is ever since I read the post I can't stop thinking about what it was like to be 13. I actually remember the birthday itself quite well; it was the year that my father didn't call, that my friends filled the living room with blue and green balloons and a cardboard cut-out of dracula after convincing me that they, too, had forgotten what was meant to be such a monumental day.

Year 13 brought a lot of things into my life; my parents divorce, a falling out with my best friend, a fantastic trip to New York, another set of pounds that brought me further from popularity, a trip as my school's rep to Connecticut... So there I was, finally a teenager and I was, while not miserable not exactly happy. I lost school elections that year, got hate notes in my bag stating that "you're too fat to ever be popular and even if that wasn't true, you're too weird". I cried myself to sleep a number of nights and lost myself in books the others.

Why, you might wonder, is a complete stranger telling you all these depressing things on your birthday?! And it's true, most weren't the happiest memories. But what I learned from them was. And here I have to thank your Mom for asking us to post because I sure as heck hadn't thought about being 13 in a long, long time. When I was 13 I didn't think the world would end. But I was afraid that I would spend the rest of my life like that year: mostly alone with no one but my books and writing to keep me company. I didn't. I look back now and think that I can barely recognize the girl that I was--but that's not true. I know exactly who she is because that girl, the one who cried herself to sleep, who was on the soccer team but never really felt close to anyone despite having friends and going to sleep overs... that girl is still very much a part of me. That year, lucky number 13, was the year that I started to learn and accept the parts of me that had previously caused me so much distress.

I like books. I like my own company. I like to go out and dance in the rain (even if, as it did at 13, I get in trouble for coming back in soaking wet with 'no regard to your own health!' ^_-). I don't mind not having a bunch of friends because the ones I have are so much more than a roomful are worth. I can look back now and give my 13-year-old self a thumbs up and mouth 'It's okay' because it really is. Even with all of the bad stuff that still happens things are okay, better then that most days. I'm happy in a way that 13-year-old me could never have imagined.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is this. The year ahead? Might be the best of your life, might be the worst, might fall somewhere in between. The extra responsibilities and extensions of rules are going to be both a trial and just awesome. But the fact is, good or bad year? The person you are today, the one that is constantly shifting and changing? That person with all of her humor and beauty and that absolutely joyous smile you have is one day going to look back at your 13th year through different eyes, a slightly different face and a grown up body and recognize that whatever kind of year she had, it was the start of something incredible.

Happy 13th, Elayna. And congratulations on starting the rest of your life. Sounds like you have an fantastic start on it already.

[queenbookwench.livejournal.com]

Thirteen was the year that my family moved back from Germany, where my father had been stationed as a librarian at a military base, to the same town in South Carolina that we had left 3 years earlier.

I loved Germany--I loved the history and the care that went into making the city beautiful, I loved riding my bike all the time, and being home-schooled, and enjoying all the freedom that teens have there because crime is so low (or at least it was when I was there). I loved the food.

This was in '92-'93, before the internet was widespread, so those of us who were stationed over there were really isolated from American pop culture: our family didn't even own a television, there were only 2 English radio stations, and the one English movie theater showed "new releases" that were months old. I didn't mind--I was happy reading and biking and traveling and being involved in my church youth group.

Imagine my shock when I came back and saw how much influence pop culture had over _everything_ here. At the time it felt like all the girls I had been friends with when we were fifth-graders had turned into clothing-and-boy obsessed airheads. I still wanted to be a tomboy--I wasn't interested in dressing cute and wearing make-up; I just wanted to be left alone to wear my sweatpants and read my science fiction. Many years later, I discovered that "girly" things had their own kind of power, and that one could have a little fun with them and still be a geek. :)

But at the time, all my differences spelled "social outcast material" at the very small parochial school I attended. But all was not lost--I had my old best friend, R., who attended another school, and an amazing teacher, Ms. W.

Ms W was teaching English for the first time and several years later she admitted to me that she really hadn't known what she was doing that year. But she did one marvelous thing right--she allowed us to write whatever we wanted in our journals. I wrote long, complex stories, and poems, and she encouraged me enthusiastically. My thirteenth year was the year I became a writer.

It was also the year that I was a state winner in the National Geography Bee, and got to travel to Washington, DC to compete in the national bee. This experience was valuable not so much for the competition as for the chance to meet others of my tribe--smart kids who felt just as lost in middle school as I did. In a word, geeks.

This is a truth that I suspect you already know, Elayna, but just in case you ever doubt it--remember, your tribe is out there.

[belgatherial.livejournal.com]

13 was a watershed year for me. I left my big anonymous primary school (the system in SA was a bit different to the one in the US, I think) and went to a much smaller liberal arts high school. And suddenly discovered I wasn't alone.

Up till then my peers were all boy crazy, and... well, they were like something out of a pretty average high school film. Or at least, like they were trying to be. By the time I was 12 I had resigned myself to the fact that there was something weird about me and I'd never have friends. Then in high school I met people who liked the books I liked (long epic fantasy at that point), and could appreciate my joy of the stage, and who also wrote poetry. People who understood there was more to life than boys and make-up. People who didn't listen to NKOTB, but rather to Queen, and the Rolling Stones. People who scorned mainstream for alternative. (I later discovered that this was just another form of snobbery, but it was still a relief to find out there was more to music than Boyz 2 Men.)

I have since found that a lot of people have to wait until after school to find those people. I was lucky - I found them when I was 13. Some of the people who are still my closest friends are people I met that year. HOWEVER, some of them aren't. And looking back, I couldn't have predicted who would fit into which category back then.

When I was 13 I met the boy who for the next ten years I would believe was my soulmate. Ironically, we never quite dated, though we verged on it several times. He was the first boy I loved, and I really believed that I would never find anyone I could love that much. He broke my heart repeatedly. He was smart and creative, and very unreliable. :) I'm still in touch with him, but he is not the man I married. And I am now very very glad about that. I guess my point is, sometimes you meet someone who blows you away and you really believe you'll never find better, and it hurts when they leave. But it's not the end of the world. It may just be the beginning of a new one.

13 was a big year for me. I found my people. I learnt that, yes, I was a little weird, but there were other weird people out there too, and they rocked!

I hope you have a beautiful year, that leads to other beautiful years. Stay true to you. xx

[pbristow.livejournal.com]

Hmmm... 13... 1978... I think that must have been the year I moved up from primary to secondary school. A tough year, where I had to make new friends and figure out who were my new enemies. Sometimes I got it wrong, kids I'd trusted were mean to me... But I got it figured out in the end.

[amokk]

I don't even remember it, personally. There's more to life than years and dates. :)

[sarapada.livejournal.com]

In general, I tend to think of my junior high years as a tough - thirteen was the end of seventh grade and the beginning of eighth grade. I was very insecure - I constantly worried about what the other kids thought about me, and was always on guard for that hurtful remark of contemptuous glare. What I can see now that I couldn't then was that those words and looks almost never came - I spent way more time worrying about them than I would have had to spend actually dealing with them if they had happened. I wish I could go back and tell my thirteen-year-old self and tell her to chill out a little bit - tell her that all of those people that she simultaneously feared and sort of wanted to be weren't actually all that great, and that she was just fine the way she was.

Thirteen was also the year that I started finding out that just because I'd always been friends with the same girls didn't mean that they had to be my only friends, and you know what? Guys make pretty excellent friends. Sometimes way better than girls. I keep in better touch with the guys I knew when I was 13 than I do the girls.

[tenshikurai9.livejournal.com]

The last time my school years were manageable before becoming a ball of stress.

[ladyphoenixia.livejournal.com]

I guess i would say 13 was when i began to grow up. That was the year that I began to reconsider the blind beliefs I had always had, when i faced my religion and realised that i didn't belong there anymore. And 13 was the year when I faced the reality of my friendships, and realised that they were doing me no good. And so, the year began with a lot of thinking and unhappiness... but by the end of the year, by the time i turned 14, I'd begun to understand the way I thought a lot better, and found the people who are still some of my closest friends today.

[drwex]

As a Jewish boy, thirteen for me was a lot about the Bar Mitzvah ceremony. It's a big event, with lots of preparation. I had to learn a lot of things, such as prayers in the service, Torah readings, and so on. The ceremony is also one where lots of money and gifts are given, so I had to think seriously about money for the first time. I'd had an allowance and some babysitting money before, but the bar mitzvah money was a much bigger deal. In the end I got confused by all the options and just put the money in a bank account so I could deal with it later; I think that was probably smart of me.

I also learned about the traditions of the Jewish tribe in making the ceremony part of the transition from childhood to adulthood. Adulthood became (at that time) a set of rights and responsibilities that I had to sort through. Later it got more complicated :)

At age 13 I was also on the cusp of a transition from grade school to high school. This meant leaving a familiar place and teachers I'd known for some time and moving to a new building with new rules and becoming once again the youngest group around. And the ones who knew the least. I remember finding this very scary in theory but once it happened I found it wasn't as scary as I had imagined.

At age 13 things with my family were very bad. I spent a lot of time feeling like nobody understood me and I couldn't talk to any of them. I hid in my room a lot (reading, playing games, building models), or went over to friends' houses where we could hide out together. I felt like nobody but me had these problems with their parents. I found out I was wrong, but it didn't help me a lot - the problems were mine to work through and that took a long time.

As a male (boy) at age 13 I had a lot of physical changes going on, most of which led to feelings of awkwardness and embarrassment. My voice changed, sometimes quickly and unpredictably. My body seemed like it would NEVER do what I wanted. I'd do stuff like just walk down a hall and find myself banging into a locker. I had to re-learn a bunch of things like how to run in a way that worked for my new body. I actually found that fun because it gave me more feelings of control over what was happening to me.

Happy 13th, kiddo.

[fearthainnlent.livejournal.com]

Thirteen was the year we moved from Connecticut to Florida.
(Flipper did not live where we moved to)
We lost our boat in the move.
I lost the majority of my childhood toys.
My Father became human rather than god-like as he had been all my life when he had a heart attack at 37.
My mother entered the workforce full-time and I became the housekeeper and cook for my family of 2 bothers, Mom, Dad and me.
I encountered racial prejudice for the first time when a gang of girls told me who I could and could not be friends with. Being threatened with physical violence was new also. I remember being so frightened I told the girls I had been having lunch with I could not eat with them again. They understood, but it is my shame I was neither brave, nor strong enough to stand up to them.
My yankee accent was mocked and I was laughed at for wearing only a sweater in January (when it was "cold").
I was insecure, flat-chested, tall, skinny, had grown out of my clothes over the move.

At age 13 my world totally changed. I learned to survive.

[ysabel.livejournal.com]

When I was twelve, my Mom convinced my English teacher to fail me for not doing the work, so I turned thirteen while going to summer school to redo eighth grade English. You'd think that'd be a terrible thing, but I got so much out of that summer. I had to bicycle home every day, and I had a significant growth spurt that summer, and to this day even in as bad a shape as I am now, I can go out and bicycle a couple of miles without even trying. I loved my ninth grade English class, and I think that was the first time I'd enjoyed an English class in six or seven years.

In the spring, I went on a week-long Outward Bound raft trip, down the Yampa and Green rivers through Dinosaur National Monument. It was one of the coolest things I have ever gotten to do. The hike on Wednesday of that week was one of the hardest physical things I've ever done, but at lunchtime I got to stand on the edge of a (literally) thousand-foot cliff and look down at the river we'd navigated the day before, and that made it worth it.

Thirteen is also the year I first really stood up for myself against the bullies that hounded me through much of my childhood. It wasn't much fun, but it formed the foundation for my finding a way to be the eclectic one everyone liked in high school, instead of the weird one everyone picked on.

Thirteen wasn't easy, but all told it was a pretty good year.