Having freckles.
Not being popular.
Having a slight indent at the top of my upper thigh before my hip that made me think my legs looked bulgy in my size 2 bluejeans.
Not having any guys "like" me.
Not getting to go to my very first boy-girl dance in seventh grade because I was grounded.
Not being the center of attention.
Not getting tons and tons of presents for my birthday or Christmas.
Not getting to go on the 9th grade class trip to Washington D.C. because my mother was afraid we'd be hijacked by terrorists.
Having a zit.
Not being perfect.
Here's me in 1978 getting tons and tons of presents, including a "My Friend Mandy" doll that now belongs to Keelin.


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