How bad it feels, when you embarrass yourself, but what happened was not under your control? Pathetic, yeah. Horrible, h*ll yeah. Depressed, definitely. ‘Why me??!!’, oh of course. But does that undo what has happened? Nope. But will your inability to change that make you stop thinking about it? Nopedy nope. Our mind is a b****, guys, a big bad b****.

A sixten year old hot mess does not realise that she’s mega-stained her jeans on her fourth day. Oblivious to it, she visits her tutor’s home, and guess where she finds a seat? On the tutor’s strict, elder, cleanliness-obsessed brother’s pristine white bed. Do I need to say more, girls? And when she reaches home and discovers the stain the size of a Pokemon tazo, and quickly realises that a twin must have been left back on the white matress, she melts into a puddle of ultimate embarassment. No, she didn’t get irregular periods. No, this had never happened before. No, she’d never bled so much ever in her life. Was this her fault? Of course yes! Who else can you hold responsible for this major goof-up? Your uterus? The sanitary pad company? The fact that you were the fastest sp*rm? No matter who’s held responsible, two things were stained for life. The bedsheet, and the girl’s self-esteem. And I’m not sure if the bedsheet stain will stay there for long, but the self-esteem stain, oh boy, it’ll be there for a lifetime.
I always wonder why is nature so unjust to teenagers. A rebelling mind, uncontrollable hormones, not an ounce of maturity, and above all, this. MESS. And oh, regrets. Regrets, a variety of them to choose from, to screw up every happy moment  in your adult life with a momentary recollection of it. I’ve already added this one to mine. What’s yours?