So there I was in a room with 80-some-odd Jewish mothers…

No, not launching a joke or recalling a bad dream. My organization has been hosting these Think Tanks, where Jewish women get together to talk about their kids (what else?). Actually that’s the whole point: To discuss the state of Jewish girls today and how we can help them grow through their issues and obstacles into confident women.

So there I was in room full of women – mostly mothers, mostly Jewish – and I’m dutifully typing snippets of their conversations so I can write about them later on. But my mind is not on my notes; it’s on the Jewish girl I was 20 years ago. She would have benefited greatly from the fruits of this discussion. It’s hard to imagine my mother’s peer group, as they were then, engaged in a project like this: Of course they wanted the best for us but they worried more about who their daughters would grow up and marry than who they would grow up to be. So instead of a report on the D.C. Think Tank, I wrote a letter to my 13-year-old self.

* * * * *

Oh, Danielle...

What an awkward gosling you are. Those braces will come off soon, and you’re going to grow up alright, but you’re in for some bumps. Let me tell you a few things that might help you through the next 20 years.

Number one: Go out and make some small mistakes. Right now, before you have a chance to make big ones. Mom is not doing you any favors keeping your strings attached, my little puppet. If you don’t seize control of your own decisions and take a few risks you will enter the real world deaf to your intuition. Trust in your own judgment will be hard-won and easily broken. Save yourself a lot of grief and start your training now.

Number two: Crazy is contagious. If someone is making you feel like you’ve lost your mind, or if a challenge causes you to doubt your competence, stop, step back, and look at things from a distance. I guarantee you’ll see that the crazy-maker was the one who’d gone off the reservation, and the task that stumped you was itself fundamentally flawed. Learn to spot this early and you won’t exhaust yourself trying to please the unpleasable, reason with the unreasonable, and achieve the impossible.

Number three: There will always be mean girls – at 13, 33, 53 and 83. A few to watch out for in the next 20 years: Rena, that girl in your class who’s fast becoming your BFF – Rena is only interested in one person: Rena. You are but a satellite to her, and you will learn this the hard way. Christina, the charming Bolivian transfer student who will take you under her manicured, designer-clad wing – she will ditch you on grounds that you’ve “let yourself go” when you gain five pounds freshman year. (If it’s any consolation, she’ll graduate high school friendless, and your class will unanimously vote “Christina and Herself” as Best Friends in the senior superlatives. Actually, there’s no consolation there; schadenfreude is not your style. Go look that up – it’s a great word.)

Also beware of your college roommate – knowing her since high school doesn’t make her a good friend; LiseAnne at your second ad agency job – she is NOT as sweet as she will seem on your first day; and keep your guard up around Grandma.

Yeah, I know, that’s a weird one. She and your mother are going to say (and occasionally shout) some very hurtful things to you in the future, mostly to do with your weight, and those wounds are going to stick with you for a long time. Understand that (a) they really believe they’re helping you, which is why (b) you will never hear an apology on this matter, and yet (c) you will choose not to return the favor when the opportunity presents itself years later. So feel good about being the bigger person. Figuratively speaking. For what it’s worth, they’ll be equally tactless when you become too thin for their liking. My point is, you have a tendency to hold on to pain, so now’s a good time to start learning how to let things go. Which brings me to…

Number four: Behold, one of your favorite nuggets of wisdom: “You are what you can’t let go of.” Since you won't crack that fortune cookie ‘til you’re 31, I'll give you a head start: If someone bullies, belittles, manipulates or alienates you, and you cannot get past it even after he or she is gone from your life, you will – I swear – find yourself doing unto others (and sometimes to yourself) as that abusive nutjob has done unto you. Erasing those people from your mind may seem like the best way to heal, but you have to be brave: Face your experiences, examine your wounds, and take care not to punish the innocent around you. Most of them won’t understand where you’re coming from, they’ll just think you’re a jerk.

Number five: Don’t be afraid to walk away from a relationship. You’re still too young to distinguish between a strong want and a justifiable need, so I understand why you're quick to bend over backward for the acceptance of guys and friends. Of course you deserve their attention, but you should never have to work for it – especially not at the expense of your self-worth.

Remember this; write it down: The ONLY acceptable requirement for the affection of another human being is that you BE YOURSELF.

Friends and boyfriends who build up your self-esteem with one hand and tear it down with the other are feeding their egos with your adoration. You’ll work hard to please them, because you’ve been conditioned that way, but those relationships – like the Silver Diner chili cheese fries of which you are so fond – invariably leave you sick to your stomach and hating yourself. You will have true friends. (Be on the lookout for Catherine, Leslie, Ron and your little sister, who hasn’t been born yet.) Note the differences between them and the bullies in friends’ clothing, and therein you will find the meaning of a healthy relationship.

One more thing: Your Dad really gets you. It’ll be a long time before you figure this out, but here will be your first grown-up clue: When you’re 19 and about to board the plane for your junior year abroad, and you’re feeling terrified and shy, and your mother is badgering you to “put on a little lipstick” (sorry, she’ll still be harping on that in 20 years)… Your father will look you in the eye and quietly say, “Don’t worry. You can make it on your merits alone.”

And he will be right.