Hey there, fabulous friends! It’s Tina here, your friendly neighborhood storyteller, with a new adventure (or should I say, “self-reflection”) to share. Settle in, grab a snack (preferably something that makes you feel like a kid again, like Fruit Roll-Ups or a cookie or two), and let’s chat about the wild ride known as “growing up” and why I’m beginning to think I don’t know my younger self at all.

So, picture this: Young Tina, roughly age 12, sporting butterfly clips and an ever-present grin, convinced she would be the next pop sensation. I was obsessed with making my mixtapes, convinced that if I just put together the right combination of Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls, and some Disney songs, someone would discover me and whisk me away to stardom. If only I’d known that fame actually involves having your life scrutinized, wardrobe malfunctions, and hair gel accidents every single day, I probably would’ve reconsidered my aspirations.

Growing up, I was the champion of “What’s Your Best Dance Move?” competitions, which, let’s be honest, were mostly staged dance-offs in our living room with my trusted sidekick (hi, Mom!). I vividly remember breaking out my best ‘90s moves while my parents looked on, cheering like I was on the verge of winning a Grammy. Ah, the days of living without fear of judgment!

Fast forward to today, and I find myself scrolling through social media and watching various dance challenges, all while sitting on my couch, snuggled under a blanket like it’s an Olympic sport. (I’ve trained hard!) What happened to that fearless young girl who busted out the worm like it was no big deal? Somewhere along the line, I swapped my dance floor confidence for couch potato finesse. Who knew that adulthood would come with so many snacks and so few dance-offs?

Can we also talk about fashion? Young Tina had the audacity to juggle a colorful wardrobe that looked straight out of a Lisa Frank dream. Glitter, rhinestones, and a serious collection of chokers adorned my outfits. I was a walking, talking rainbow on any given day. Flash-forward to now, and my wardrobe consists mostly of oversized sweaters and yoga pants—because who doesn’t want to look like a cute, albeit slightly confused, potato? Somehow, I’ve ended up dressing in a way that prioritizes comfort over creativity. Honestly, if I could wear pajamas to work and convince everyone it was a “chic” look, I’d be wearing those “I woke up like this” pjs 24/7.

And let’s not forget relationships. Young Tina believed that everyone was only ever this great, warm, gooey cookie waiting to be discovered. Every new friend was a potential best friend, and every giggle at the lunch table promised a lifetime bond. But as I matured, I learned that friendships can be fickle like a toddler’s attention span. I’ve lost friends over silly disagreements and witnessed the horrifying effect of social media on relationships. It’s a brutal reality that sometimes the people we thought would always have our backs—like those karaoke nights in our parents’ basements—turn out to be like pop-up ads: annoying and entirely untrustworthy.

But here’s where the plot thickens: as I look back, I’m starting to appreciate my younger self’s boldness in a way I hadn’t before. Sure, I’ve traded my glamorous dreams of stardom for a more practical life, but I’m realizing that I still have that same spark within me. It might not manifest itself in the same way, but it’s there—a resilient flicker that refuses to snuff out even when life gets overwhelming.

There are moments when I catch a glimpse of what Young Tina would think of my current self. Would she be disappointed? Would she chuckle at my “adulting” attempts? Probably both. But you know what? She would also be proud of the growth I’ve made. I’ve tackled curves life threw at me—like learning to cook without burning water and successfully fending off those pesky adult responsibilities while still managing to have some fun.

And hey, I’ve also figured out that there’s something incredibly empowering about being an adult, messy socks and all. Sure, my dance moves may be questionable now (a real “dad dance” situation), but the laughter and appreciation for the little things remain. I’ve learned resilience, patience, and how to hold my own, even when the world around me is spinning faster than a TikTok dance challenge.

So here’s to the fabulous, silly, awkwardly charming experience that is growing up! Whether you’re still wearing butterfly clips or rocking oversized sweaters, own your journey, friends. Lean into your weirdness and embrace the changes. Our younger selves might have been fearless, but let’s not underestimate the strength it takes to navigate life as us today.

Until next time, keep shining bright! ✨

Much love from your pal,
Tina 💖