When I Was Fourteen

At fourteen disco was all the rage on the radio
Saturdays spent skating, waiting for the songs that are slow.
All week I'd dream in my room that he'd ask for me that night.
My heart would race, my throat went dry when he was in my sight.
Much care was taken to choose the jeans and shirt  that I'd wear.
Kristi had the look I'd want, I copied her feathered hair.
Eyelids blue, lips shining glossy, tasting of sweet cherry.
Conscripted in conforming style but not ordinary.
To be popular you had to look like everyone else.
Struggling in a time when you are trying to find yourself.
So much energy spent to only be part of the herd.
Thinking of being fourteen now I can see how absurd
I acted to fit in with people who stayed stuck in ruts
In truth, I was never like them, they all think I am nuts.
That guy I hoped would ask me out, turns out that he is gay.
He's been my close friend and confidant since we broke away.
At fourteen all you want to do is to find acceptance.
You strive hard for approval from every acquaintance.
Dear fourteen year old me, you are perfect at being you.
Accept yourself and your flaws and live a life that's true