If you could speak to your teenage self, I don’t know lets say 14 years old, what would you say? Would you look at her how you look at other 14 year olds? Would you see her as a child or an adult? Would you feel like you wanted to protect her and warn her, or would you pity and judge her?

I’m going to have two 14 year old daughters one day and the thought fucking terrifies me! I was horrible at 14, I don’t mean I was a bit cheeky and sassy, I mean I was fucking vile. I’d throw chairs at teachers, smoke and bunk off PE on a Tuesday afternoon, and that’s the stuff I’m only a little bit ashamed to tell you about. There was so much more.

I don’t like the 14 year old me, I think she’s a bitch and if I met her again….well I don’t want to meet her again. She’d probably spit at me and tell me to fuck off.

What’s odd is other 14 year olds I see just look like children. I can kind of hold them accountable for their behaviour, but ultimately they are children. I can’t really judge them. I’m not sure why I don’t feel that way towards the 14 year old me – I still totally hold her accountable of her actions.

When the Beans are 14 I know I’ll still see them as children. It’ll piss me off when they’re late home or don’t clean their rooms, but the decisions they make will be from the mind of a child, not an adult. You can’t apply the same rational to the decisions of a child.

Though I do have male friends, my girl friends generally talk about the same things so I can only apply this thought to them. We tend to beat ourselves up for not being able to manage the world. We expect ourselves to be great mums, work all the hours we can, stay on top of the housework, eat healthy food, exercise and take care of our appearances. It’s bat shit crazy really.

As I would still judge my 14 year old self so harshly, is this why I judge myself so harshly now? If we could look at ourselves as humans, as we do everyone else, would we still be so hard on ourselves? If we go to a friend’s house and there is a pile of ironing on the side, do we judge them? No, we don’t.  So why do we judge ourselves for the same thing?

I get annoyed really. What do we achieve by beating ourselves up all the time for not being perfect? Who wants us to be perfect? Why the fuck does it matter if we’re not perfect?

I don’t wanna be perfect, I like that I’m rough as arse holes and still have a slight dirty southern accent. People don’t like that I swear and some think I’m crass, but what actual impact does that have on life? I’m raising my children with values and self respect. I’m teaching them right from wrong and they will always know they’re equal, so why does it matter if I drop the occasional eff bomb?

Anyway bringing this random ramble of words to a tidy ending, my theory is that if we can look back at our younger selves with kindness, love and understanding, maybe we’ll learn to look at our current selves that way. Then we can stop beating ourselves up for not being so fucking perfect.

The washing, empty fridge and deadlines will still be there tomorrow. Go give your kids a cuddle, poor yourself a large glass of wine, eat something filthy and tell that judgey voice in your head to go fuck itself.