Dear Teen Me, from Author Kimberly Pauley (SUCKS TO BE ME)

Dear Teen Me:

If you take away anything from this, keep this to heart:

Tell someone.

But maybe I should start over and tell you the why and the how. You’re not terribly trusting and I know you’re looking at me with suspicion right now.

First off, I’m sorry.

I know right now is a really bad time. Your father has just died of cancer and on Father’s Day, no less. The empty hospital bed in the living room is a grim reminder. The not-so-well-meaning wishes of your pious neighbor aren’t helping either. (Really, Mr. Finch? You think the morning of her father’s death is a good time to tell her that her dad is going to Hell because he didn’t pray and didn’t belong to your church? You should be ashamed.)

I hate to tell you this, but things are about to get worse.

You can’t see it right now, but your mom is reeling. Sure, she’s an adult, but she’s also a widow with two daughters at home, one of whom is only seven and the other a teenager who would rather read than help out (let’s be honest). She’s a self-employed crafter. You know what that means? It means that we’re poor. We’ve always been poor, but now things must seem to her like they are turning to desperate.

But that’s not the bad news. The bad news is that she’s going to meet another guy after awhile. You can’t see why she likes him, but he charms her. She can’t see through his smiles and jokes to what lies underneath.

And what’s underneath is bad. The alcoholism is the obvious flaw, but it’s what comes later, after he’s talked your mom into selling your house and moving the entire family to Mississippi, that’s really bad.

It starts even before you move, though you don’t realize it at the time. It’s the compliments that make you a little uncomfortable. The times you catch him staring at you when he doesn’t think you’re looking. The smack on the butt when he’s joking around.

In Mississippi, the four of you are stuck living in a fifth wheel trailer (it’s one of those pull behind a truck trailers and yes, that’s got about as much room in it as it sounds like it does). You and your little sister sleep in the same bed, which becomes a couch during the day.

And here’s where it gets bad, but not as bad as it could have been because, you see, he’s ultimately a coward. The inappropriate touching starts, the “accidental” opening of the bathroom door, and always the comments and the stares. But he’s too big a coward to do the worst.

You start to wear a bra to bed, plus a t-shirt, maybe two, because you never know if you’re going to wake up with him there staring down at you or worse. You make sure your little sister is sleeping against the wall, because you don’t want him touching her. The worst night, perhaps, is when you have to take the SATs in Sarasota and it’s him who drives you. He gets a motel room with just one bed (only one they had, he claims, but you know he’s lying) and when you refuse to let him in it, he spends the entire night standing in the doorway in his underwear, begging. You don’t give in, but you don’t sleep either. Amazingly, you still manage to get a National Merit Scholarship (and thank heavens for that, otherwise paying for college would have been nearly impossible), but to this day I don’t know how.

Here’s the thing. You kind of try to tell some people. But you don’t manage to do it. You’re ashamed. You’re sure it’s you, that somehow it’s your fault. His constant refrain is that he just can’t help himself. That it’s you.

Well, let me tell you something. It’s NOT your fault. It’s not you. It’s his problem, not yours. And like I said before, if you take away anything from this letter, take this: TELL SOMEONE. And if they don’t listen, tell someone else.

Because, let me tell you, not telling is one of your biggest regrets in life. I know, this isn’t the kind of stuff that anyone likes to talk about. And that’s why it’s important to do so. Because, let me tell you, once you get older and start talking to the women you know? You’ll be amazed and dismayed at how many have similar stories. And if we’d all told, who knows?

I feel like I should leave you with some good news. You don’t let these experiences define who you are as a person. You marry a great guy and have a beautiful kid. And all that writing you did? Pouring out all the bleakness inside you? Well, it was good practice, even if your first two books are funny. But hey, keeping your sense of humor is one of the only ways to stay sane.

 

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Kimberly Pauley was born in California and has since lived all over the place. She now lives in London, England with her husband and adorable son, The Max. She majored in English at the University of Florida and loved rubbing it in to her then-boyfriend (now husband) that she got to watch The Terminator in her Science Fiction classes while he was studying Differential Equations. She’s also the founder of YA Books Central, one of the largest teen lit sites on the Internet. Sucks to Be Me was her first novel. To find out about more of her books (both current and upcoming), you can visit her website/blog, follow her on Twitter for complete randomness, or check out her Facebook fan page.

Tags: Mirrorstone, Random House, Wizards of the Coast, YA, YA Books Central