Regular Girls

On a recent summer vacation I found myself sitting on a dock watching boats coming and going. It seemed every other boat was a pontoon boat and it was filled a dozen teenagers. They would pile out of the boat, like clowns out of a Volkswagen at the circus, and I would catch sight of them, the regular girls. There they were of all shapes and sizes wearing bikinis, giggling, taking selfies and nudging each other. Tagging behind would be parents or several boys that may have been relatives or even boyfriends but it was hard to say. I watched them with a sigh and thought about how wonderful it must be to be one of them, one of the regular girls. They appeared so normal and girl like. They pulled their hair up into pony tails as they approached the little store that sold ice cream and continued the giggling. Who are these "regular girls" that I mention? If I was my 15 year old self sitting on the dock in my shorts and my "I'm with stupid" t-shirt, I would have scoffed at them. I would have thought they were just some mindless idiots who were pretty and popular or at the very least fit in. I thought that about my classmates in high school. The ones who talked about make up and who tried to get away with wearing nail polish or the wrong shoes with the their uniforms. They would get detention for such acts and I thought they were stupid but really they were asserting their individuality more than I was. I really wanted to fit in and be one of them. I suppose I owe them all an apology. They are all remarkable women.
Now, I watch and envy the regular girls. I envy their youth and lively beauty. That is not saying they are all classically beautiful or all should be wearing bikinis but they are young and hopeful. That is more than I can say I am or maybe more than I ever was. I think about what I would say to my 15 year old self if she were sitting next to me watching those regular girls. I would be looking at my sulking face and know that I was thinking of the unfairness of the world. I would have been thinking about how skinny and awkward I was and how I could never be one of them. I wish I could say to myself that it is going to get better and that those regular girls have the same fears and doubts that I do but I doubt I would listen, even to myself. As I watch the regular girls go by I want to shout to them that they have their whole lives in front of them and it can be spectacular. I watch my own daughter fishing off the dock and tell her she is beautiful. She responds, "I know, Mommy." But does she really believe it? I never thought I would want my children to fit in and be like everyone else but I do. I suppose that sounds awful but I want them to avoid the pain of not fitting in. I know they will be fine because they are a lot more well adjusted than I was as a child and maybe even more than I am now.
The regular girls giggle back to their pontoon boat and swing their hair over their shoulders and smile. I wave and they wave back.