This is the night you’ve dreamed about for months. You’ve pictured it in your mind a thousand times over, imagined your dress, the way it would twirl around your legs when you spun in the mirror, the gentle warmth of a hand on your back for pictures, the bubbling excitement you’d feel stepping into the limo or onto the dance floor.
This is the dream night, the night that culminates your high school experience—the night that will forever be a hazy, beautiful dream you’ll carry in your memory.
I hope it’s everything you’ve imagined.
I hope your dress fits just right and your smile stretches across your face effortlessly in every picture. I hope you find a date that makes you laugh, or if you don’t, that you surround yourself with friends that make you forget about feeling alone.
I hope your makeup brightens your face just the way you want it, or that you decide to embrace your natural beauty. I hope your hair falls perfectly, and that the curls frame your smile.
I hope that as you’re getting ready, you feel beautiful, inside and out.
But I hope you know that this night isn’t everything.
Yes, this is the night glorified in every high school movie. It’s the precious night, the special night, the night that’s supposed to be all you’ve ever wanted. And for you, I hope it is.
But it’s okay if your prom night isn’t perfect.
It’s okay if your date steps on your train or if you make a silly face in one of your pictures. It’s okay if you found your dress on the clearance rack, okay if you didn’t get your makeup done, and okay even if it’s raining and your hair gets a little frizzy.
Sometimes imperfections, sometimes the things we can’t plan for are the things we remember the most.
Not because they were terrible, not because they ruined our plans, but because they gave our night some character.
Because they became the things we will never forget.
So I hope you learn to laugh on your prom night. I hope you don’t take things too seriously or stress yourself out trying to have a flawless, picture-perfect evening.
I hope you eat and don’t try to starve yourself into your dress. I hope you take a bunch of pictures, and some of them goofy just because. I hope you don’t keep yourself from dancing like a fool because you don’t want to look disheveled.
I hope you learn how to walk without wobbling in your heels, and I hope that you eventually take them off and dance dance dance.
This is a night that yes, you will always remember.
But you’ll remember it for the way you laughed, for how messy your hair got from dancing, for how tired you were from jumping and shaking your butt all night.
You’ll remember it for the kisses you shared with people you care about, for the way it felt to have someone’s arms around your waist for a slow dance.
For how it never really was about this one night, but about the celebration of who you’ve become and the people around you.
And so I hope you celebrate it, and celebrate it well.
Every imperfection, every smudged line of mascara, every tongue-out photo, every stepped on hem of your dress—I hope you enjoy all of that. I hope you remember it forever.
Having a perfect night is overrated.
So I guess I don’t hope your night is everything you imagined.
I hope it’s even more.