Why Me, Why The Clique, Why Now?

While promoting The Clique, readers often asked how I managed to connect with twelve-year-olds when I was in my thirties. The answer was always: My dress size may have changed, but my insecurities, desires, and demons are the same.

In middle school, I was afraid the wind would blow my bangs aside and expose my forehead zits. Now, I pray the sun doesn’t reveal an errant chin hair. Back then, my stomach sank when friends came back from summer camp with new inside jokes. Now, it sinks when happy families return from group vacations, while my divorced ass sits home alone. I wondered why some girls were ready to date, and I wasn’t. I wondered the same thing when my friends started getting married and having kids. Shouldn’t I want that too? In middle school, popularity fluctuated more than our hormones. Trust me, mom culture is worse. “The only thing harder than getting in is staying in” was printed on the cover of every Clique book for a reason.