December 7th, 2012

Dear Me,

It's happened, I'm fifteen- finally. I've been on the planet for fifteen years, now; and I'd like to think I'm a little smarter, a little prettier, a little wiser and a little bit more eloquent than when I appeared.

I think I've grown and matured into someone my parents can be proud of, someone whom I'll never be ashamed to be.

Feminist. Not surprising, is it; considering Butler and Jaggar and Menon are the recurrent names on Ma's huge bookshelf?

I've learnt that while I'm not going to quit waxing or stop using (copious amounts of) eyeliner or completely disregard what's in and what isn't; I'm never going to become a self-absorbed bimbo who won't step out of the house unless she's a walking talking Revlon advert.

Potteradict. Lived it, loved it. It meant (and to a certain extent, still means) the world to me. The people inhabiting the Potterverse played an absolutely ginormous role in shaping who I am today. They've lent themselves to my early experiments with words on FanFiction, and they've always Apparated to my side to offer themselves to my essays in my Language papers.

Topper. Weeellll… Maybe not always, but I'm there- if not in the top three, at least the top five. It's an important part of who I am and who I aspire to be. Euphoria, to me, is looking at those test results and feeling numb with… with relief? With a feeling of completion?

It's that tranquil numbness that settles in my stomach when I glance back through my exam papers and see the fruit of my labours that I often look forward to. Call me crazy, but I enjoy the process and I'm not apologising for it.


Guilty secret? No. Not really.

I prefer speaking on the landline than on my mobile, e-mails over chat… but I'll make an exception for texting- I mean, Sherlock texts, so I can, too!

I spend hours on Fiction Press trawling through one shots, sobbing over the clichés and loading up on Snickers and Nutela. My poetry, too… it's sappy; strong, powerful sometimes, but definitely penned by a lovelorn fool!

I like watching winter sunrises and sunsets, when the Sun dyes the clouds a soft fuchsia and the namaaz is called out in the near distance. I like clear nights, when I can see Orion's twinkling belt, and I wish on Venus that someday I'll get to watch the stars with my knight in shining armour…

…But I am no damsel in distress. I'm strong, independent and I most certainly do not need a boy to make me sublimely happy… although, having one around might not be such a bad thing!

Some days, I'm driven absolutely mad with jealousy (and I don't even think the emotion is necessary) when it comes to this boy who means so many different things to me. In all my fifteen years, the only time my stomach has actually flipped was this morning when he wished me 'Happy Birthday' with that impish grin in place. It's a delicious feeling, your stomach turning and the heat rushing to your face. I want to be able to feel it everyday for a long time to come… and he doesn't even know that he's the cause of it!

I love me, I'm one of my favourite people; and I think that that's important. But I see my flaws- even a microscope couldn't make them any more obvious. I know my faults, and I accept them- and, on good days, I do try and work on them.

I'm proud of what little I've accomplished with myself so far, and someday- I hope to do something that I can absolutely cherish.

I may not realise it, but I have watched myself grow and learn and stumble and pick myself up again. And I think I like what I've seen.

So- happy birthday to me!



Author's Note: Published on two accounts- AFractionOfMySoul as well as FromMeToYouOnYourBirthday… whichever one you're reading this on, check out the other account as well! You may like what you read- plus, it's my birthday today, so do it as a favour?