Rookie is a website for teenage girls. With monthly-themed content, we update three times a day, five days a week, and are happy to offer you millions of bad puns.
Tavi & co. are off to an excellent start. I've been enjoying reading their first offerings, and have high hopes for things to come. At times I think, "my goodness those skirts are short!" but then again, if I had known how awesome my figure was when I was 16, I would have taken WAY more advantage of that.
I want to specifically shout out to this post on getting over girl hate, because YES. I'm not exactly on board with Tavi's flowchart tracking girl hate back to boys feeling inferior, because it's a bit sexist and presumptive, but there are much better bits in there. To wit:
The bad news is that sometimes jealousy is more personal than that, and really does have to do with just you and her. You probably feel a little threatened by her because you two are so similar, but you’re afraid she’s an even better version of you. Here’s the thing—the horribly, eye-rollingly cheesy thing: no one can be a better version of yourself than you. And becoming the best possible example of your you-ness does not include focusing on how much you dislike another person.
This is actually a good reminder for this 31 year old woman. There are a couple of specific women in my life toward whom, through no fault of their own, I feel competitive. And I hate that! The competition in and of itself makes me feel small and stupid. I'm trying to get over these sorts of things to be a better person. I suppose sometimes it takes a high school sophomore to remind you to check yourself.
I wish I had something like this in middle school or high school. All I had was Seventeen Magazine (I wasn't clued in enough to know that I should be reading Sassy). And what did I learn from Seventeen? That I should always be embarrassed about getting my period, that I don't have to and really shouldn't wash my hair until it squeaks, you CAN paint short nails bright colors (didn't know you COULDN'T but whatever), and that if I can draw this picture, I am an artist.
There's an entry on here on high school advice from "grown ups" - Dan Savage, Joss Whedon, Winnie Holzman - all the cool grown ups who were sort of nerds or outcasts long ago. (Once again with the reclaiming nerdiness...) They offer nice tidbits and advice and, though I am not famous, I feel compelled to offer my own little story of not knowing anything.
When I was in middle school there was a rumor that one of the eighth grade girls gave a boy a blow job at a party. SCANDAL. My best friend, Patty, and I were talking about it on the phone late one night, whispering because we thought we'd be in trouble if our parents heard us talking about it. We wondered to each other what exactly a blow job was. "Do you blow on it?" "I guess???" We were 12. Neither of us had ever kissed a boy and we were desperate to do so before getting to high school, figuring that everyone BUT us would have already had their first kiss. We were beyond clueless.
For me, my first kiss wouldn't come for another 3 years. I don't know about Patty; I always assumed she got her first kiss before me. She has a husband and a beautiful family now. I don't know if she ever found out what a blow job was. My mom reads WTS (hi Mom! love you!), so I will tell you this: I certainly never found out. I guess you blow on it?