1 week Ago By Kate Halfpenny
This time 40 years ago I was getting ready for my 18th birthday party. It was a joint do with my bestie Brigitte at her place in Mt Waverley and it was a banger. That night the first photo of me and my first husband was taken.
Still 17, Jay is in a grey Arnold Ross v neck jumper. He’s dragged a rubber glove over his face and is blowing it up with his nose. I’m smiling like I’ve won Super 66 instead of a boy doing a party trick.
What advice would you have for your younger self? Credit: Artwork: Jamie Brown Today the photo wouldn’t be Insta worthy. Jay looks like Foghorn Leghorn. My face is so chubby it looks like I’m on heart transplant anti-rejection drugs.
Still, it’s priceless, a snapshot not just of future parents of three but of a moment in time. Both of us on the cusp of leaving school, of adulthood, of decisions. Four decades ago.
I look at the girl in the photo and it’s like we’re not even the same person. She’s shy, studious, hasn’t met an exercise she liked since giving up synchronised trampolining. Is desperate for love, desperate to get out of suburbia and start life for real.
Sparked by time passing, I talk to my friend Katrina. Her youngest daughter Alice is finishing year 12, so it’s a big new world of opportunity for both (job well done to all parents in the same exciting boat.) “You have so much choice at that age,” Katrina says.
“It’s fantastic. What would you tell your younger self if you could?” Oof. You first.
“Lighten up and enjoy the ride,” she says. “And always have options.” What would my husband tell little Chris? “Stay in school.
Have a plan. Don’t root lunatics.” My mate Sam: “Don’t buy Wills extra mild cigarettes.
Always Kent soft packs. Never sell your first car. And never forget your first love.
Sometimes they’re the same thing.” This was fun. “Learn a trade,” says Jaydo.
“Travel wildly and widely.” My neighbour Bro is caught heading off to run her inner-north school: “Don’t leave Paris in 1986. Move away from your family.
Keep moving forward.” Everyone had something to say. “Wear more sunscreen, shag fewer losers, invest in bitcoins,” says Katy.
Mia: “Never stop doing handstands because you’ll lose your nerve and never be able to do them again.” Teddy loves the advice about doing one thing every day that scares you. Twenty-six years ago, that made her get in touch with a bloke she’d met at a party who said he’d call but didn’t.
Turns out he was waiting to be paid so he could take her out. They’re still together, their two daughters grown. “Never be afraid to get mad even if you might say things you regret later,” says my mate Ange.
Paula is wistful: “Start trying for children many years sooner.” Lou is thinking compound interest: “Start a small shares portfolio in your 20s. Pretend it doesn’t exist until you’re 60 when your nest egg will be a treasure chest.
” Back to the teenage me. What would I tell her? That happiness is a choice. Not to worry so much or let other people’s opinions of you be your opinion.
Say yes way more than no. Learn to run. And run towards things, not from them.
Pain is part of the deal. It’s not failing you’ll regret, it’s not trying. Get therapy.
Know it’s true what you’ll read one day: the two things you never regret are having a swim and having a baby. “Me” time is best with someone else. Kate, take dance classes, give up the booze and get a Mirena earlier, get the address of the fella you pashed at the Spanish train station.
Embrace chaos — perfection doesn’t exist. Practice, practice, practice. Start brushing your hair.
Important: save yourself. Nobody else is coming to do it. Also, at 18 you’re already more powerful than you realise.
Enjoy it all. As Cameron Diaz said, “Just live it, ride it out, do it as you want to. It all ends up good.
” Kate Halfpenny is the founder of Bad Mother Media. The Opinion newsletter is a weekly wrap of views that will challenge, champion and inform your own. Sign up here .
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