Back to the Future, Patty Blount Style

 "Hello, Mcfly?" 

I laughed. "Yeah. That's essentially what's happening." We're in our old bedroom, in a rental unit in New York. A radio plays an FM station long since gone. 

The teen sneered at me. "Yeah, right." 

"Why would I lie to you? Look at me. Same nose. Same dimples, right here." I tapped her cheek. 

"But you're...old. And fat." The sneer turned to disgust and I sighed. 

"Yeah, well, that's your fault," I shot back. "If you'd taken better care of our health at this age, I wouldn't be dealing with things like an entire kitchen cabinet devoted to medications to treat diabetes, psoriatic arthritis, vestibular migraines, and hot flashes." 

"My fault!? How is it my fault? I don't even know what those things are."

Okay, that was a fair point. But still... 

"Look, my point is, right now, you have everything and you don't appreciate any of it. You're healthy. You're thin and still athletic. Why don't you dance anymore?" 

Teen Me turns her gaze away. "I'm not good enough." 

I made a sound of frustration, wishing I could shake sense into her. Me. "Says who? Some girls at school? What do they know?" 

"Uh, they know the committee, so..."

I swirled a finger in the air. "Big deal. Here's a news flash for you. Not a single one of those girls makes it to Broadway or Radio City in my time. Not one of them."

That snagged her attention. She looked back at me, a frown, THAT frown that began carving lines into my forehead before I was thirty, puckering her brow. 

"Stop that, you'll wrinkle."

The frown turned to another sneer as she examined my face from every angle. "Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. I have wrinkles. Again, your fault." 

She flung out both hands, let them fall with a slap. "How is any of this my fault?" 

"That's why I'm here! To explain it all. Look, you take everything in life way too seriously. That needs to stop. Those girls on the dance team? They're no big deal. It doesn't need to be the end of your life as you know it. So they said no. Find another team. Better yet, create your own team. Have fun with it." 

I...She stared at me and I didn't have to wonder what was going on behind those big brown eyes. I already knew. 

"I get it. I used to be you. I AM you. And I'm telling you, all these things that keep you awake at night? None of them matter. What matters most -- the only thing that matters -- is how you feel, what you think about yourself." 

Doubt puckered that brow so I reached out and smoothed the hair behind her ears. 

"You're beautiful." 

A snort. "My nose is humongous." 

I laughed. "Okay, it's not the nose of Hollywood, but that doesn't matter. You're going to catch a lot of guys' attention. A lot. They'll all tell you how beautiful you are, but that's not why they'll be interested in you." 

A smile revealed braces I remember wearing until I was twenty. "It's not?" 

I shook my head. "Nope. Most of them will appreciate how smart you are. And that you're nice and not phony. That you can laugh at life, at their jokes, at bad movies. But that's still not the important part."

"What's more important?" 

"Like I said, the most important thing is what you think about yourself." I lowered my hands to her shoulders and turned her to face me. "Listen to me. I have so many years behind me now, so I know what I'm talking about. Friends will walk in and out of your life too many times to count. Disappointments will stack up like piles of leaves and you have to stop believing they're all your fault."

"But--" 

"No. You have dreams. I know exactly what they are." 

"I want to get married. I want babies."

"That's only part of who you are. Who you will be. You want more. Don't be afraid to ask for it. To demand it." 

She bit her lip and I took her face in my hands, that face I wished I still had, the one I never believed was beautiful. "You want to write. You want college degrees. You want to dance. You want to work. Do it. Do it all."

"I don't know how." 

I nodded. "That's the fun part. Figuring it out. Your teachers, even Mom -- they want you to have it all mapped out and planned on some kind of blueprint, but the truth is, you don't have to have it all plotted out right now. It's okay to figure it as you go. To make new plans. Right now, you have more freedom than you know. Don't waste it or your time. Trust me, time is the only thing that matters." 

She laughed. "You said health."

I nodded. "Yeah. I did. Eat more vegetables and fewer sugary snacks. Put lotion on your skin every single day, even your face."

"But I'll get pimples."

I shrugged. "You might. But a few pimples are better than the psoriasis you'll get when you hit 40. And eating a lot less sugar now may delay or even prevent the diabetes you'll get when you're 50." 

She thought about that for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Are you...did you ever..."

"Yeah. I wrote a bunch of books. They're in bookstores and on Amazon."

The forehead pucker reappeared and I tried not to sigh. "Okay, I know you're not talking about the river, so what's Amazon?" 

"Oh, you know that computer you bought with your babysitting money?" 

"My Commodore?"

"Yeah. Keep up with the programming and computer skills. They're going to be a BIG deal. You'll be able to shop for stuff with your computer and have the things you buy delivered right to your door." 

"Like your books?"

I shook my head. "Like YOUR books. You're going to win awards for your writing." 

Both hands shot up to cover her mouth. "No way!"

"Swear it." 

"Why are you telling me all of this? Why did you come back for me?" 

I swung an arm over her shoulder. "You need to know I love you. I know you better than anyone, even Mom. So I know your fatal flaw isn't our big nose or how fat I got as I got older. The thing that holds you back is putting too much worth in what everyone else thinks about you instead of what YOU think about you. Do the things that make you happy! Dance if you want to dance, write if you want to write. Do not let anyone tell you that you can't." 

"That's...that's so weird." 

"What?" 

"You love me. You just said you are me. Old, fat, and no longer healthy, but you love me." 

I grinned. "Odd concept, isn't it? Loving yourself is the key to happiness. Right now, you don't love yourself."

"Yes, I do," she protested but I shot her the hairy eyeball. She couldn't fool me. "Oh. Right. You know all the things." 

"I do. That's why I'm here. You are the only person on this entire planet who can derail your dreams. Whenever you let someone else decide for you, another dream dies. Find your courage. Let people read your stories. What's the worst that can happen?"

"They hate them?" 

I rolled my eyes. "So what if they do? You'll learn and you'll improve and write a better book." 

A new song began and she leaped to her feet. "Oh my God, this song is so good." I watched her...ME... dance to THAT'S WHAT I LIKE ABOUT YOU, wishing I could still move like that, without pain.

Without fear.