Thursday, March 28, 2013


I know it's been two weeks since I've written.

I just posted and removed a post about a crazy girl I met at school. I thought it was pretty funny, but I guess it's potentially offensive. So I don't really have anything else to write this week, but if you are extremely bored and want to read the post you can give me your email and I'll send it to you.

I'll come up with something interesting  to write later.

Friday, March 15, 2013

I'm the One

Sarah's mom called Sarah, Ale, and I down for scripture time before dinner. When we came downstairs to find the table already surrounded by their big family, Ale and I leaned up against the back of the couch. A moment later, Sarah's 9-year-old brother noticed that there was one empty seat next to him. He wanted someone to sit by him, but he couldn't remember our names. "Come sit by me!" he commanded. His mother asked who he was speaking to.
He pointed at Ale and said, "the skinny one."
The world froze for a moment. I'm the fat one. I didn't know how to react. This was a family full of dietitians, all obsessed with being healthy, and there I was, the fat one, just standing there trying to figure out how to react. "HA HA", I laughed a little too loudly. I pulled out my phone, fumbled with it, and put it back in my pocket. The skinny one. The fat one. "I'm sorry, excuse me," I said as I stumbled out of the room and around the corner into the hallway.
I sat on the stairs, breathing deeply and trying desperately not to cry. I just stared at my phone, not knowing what to do or say or where to go. Ale rounded the corner and found me on the stairs, "Are you okay?"
I was clenching my jaw so it wouldn't tremble. "Can we go out onto the porch?" I whispered.
But before we had the chance, Sarah's mom appeared, holding her 9-year-old by the arm. She pulled the three of us into a room and closed the door. "What do you have to say to these girls?" He had nothing to say at all. He didn't lie. He wasn't trying to be rude. She forced an insincere apology out of him while I stood there rubbing my hands together and taking more deep breaths.
Once we were released from the room, I burst onto the porch, Ale close behind me. We sat on the chairs. I covered my face as big rolling tears leaked uncontrollably out of my eyes. I tried so hard to stop them and to breathe normally, but my struggled attempts just made me look even more pathetic. I heard the front door open. I sighed in embarrassment and frustration as I quickly wiped my face the best I could. Sarah's mom came out and tried to comfort me by telling me the story of how she used to be "chubby like me" but now she works out 6 days a week. The whole thing really just made me feel worse. Sarah had plans to go to dinner with Jordyn and Tasya anyway, so I went home and Ale came with me.
We watched silly YouTube videos and talked about boys for a while. Sarah called us when she got home from dinner and invited us back over for a movie night. I didn't really want to face her family again, but I needed to be with my friends, so I walked back over.
The entire afternoon I felt so down on myself, but something changed that evening in the car ride home. Sarah's 17-year-old brother gave us a ride home in his car. And for some reason during those few minutes, I forgot about the day's rotten experience. We saw a bunch of teenage boys hanging out outside, so we rolled the windows down and blasted Taylor Swift's "Fifteen"  while singing yelling along to it. They all stared, but we didn't care. I stuck my hand out of the windows to feel the wind, laughing and smiling at the tone-deaf yelling and everyone's crazy commentary about how "rebellious" we are. The song said, "I've found time can heal most anything, and you might find who you're supposed to be." Then I had a thought.
it doesn't matter what size I am.
I can be happy just being myself.
Because there's no other Tessa Hatchett quite like me.
I'm the one ME.

Monday, March 11, 2013


One day, at the beginning of my sophomore year, a guy in my Biology class copied off of my paper. He had been absent, and it didn't seem like a big deal. I watched him soak up my answers I had so carefully written in mechanical pencil, just to spit them back onto his own page. He didn't look at me, and he didn't even see what he was writing down. He was just copying. And I can't find the right words to describe how horrible I felt in the pit of my stomach. I was being used. This wasn't the first time, but it never feels any better.
He has asked many times to copy my answers since then. Not because he needs help, but merely because he learned that day back at the beginning that he can take advantage of me. But he is wrong. I have never said yes since that day. It may not seem like a big deal to you, but it stings every time he asks. It is a constant reminder of not only that stupid mistake, but of how wrong people are about me. Of how many negative things run through their heads when they see me that aren't even true.

A few days ago in my last class of the day there was a different boy I have been talking to. I was checked out from school a few minutes early, to which he reacted with, "Don't leave me!" As I left the school, I thought that maybe I finally met a boy that cared more about getting to know me than reading my notes. The next class period, just 48 hours later, we were filling out a worksheet. It wasn't long before I heard the familiar words, "What's the answer to number 1?" I covered my answer and showed him the paragraph in the assigned reading where he could find it. "Number 2?" I showed him again. But after "Number 3?" I was done.
"Just read the page!" I said, irritated. "You're not illiterate."
Then he smiled that smile. The one that they all form when they want something from you. It doesn't work on me because of how much I have grown to resent it. I silently boiled for a moment before turning back to my worksheet, working quickly and covering my answers as he tried desperately to see them. He was just like every other boy in my high school.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
My scores are decent, but not 100%. So is it because I'm ugly that people treat me this way? Is it because I'm quiet that people pretend to be my friend, and then treat me like an iPhone app that's supposed to answer all their questions? Is it because I'm weak that I've become so used?
Am I weak?

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Wednesday's Life Lessons

"We're going to the temple tonight, can I pick you up at 6:30?" read the text message.
I must admit, for a moment I briefly hesitated. After all, I was having a fabulous hair day and had no desire to mess it up. Despite that, I decided to go. I put on my blue skirt and a black cardigan before I packed up my purse with a comb and hair ties. I was happily clipping my hair back when I realized I had forgotten to pack my recommend.
I looked in the special pocket in my wallet. It wasn't there. I checked my purse. Not there either. I checked my cinch pack. No recommend. I checked my Brtitish day bag, my old jean purse, the shelf by my bed, my desk, my chest of drawers, my side table, and all of the drawers in my bathroom. I checked the kitchen, the living room, the coat rack, my bedroom again, and was then officially frustrated. I quickly pushed my worry aside and folded my arms, there in the middle of the hallway. I prayed that I would find my recommend and have the opportunity to go to the temple that night. After 'amen' I prayerfully searched all of those places again. And again. And again. 
My Young Women leader pulled up in my driveway. I sulked down my porch steps and over to her car window, which she promptly rolled down. "I can't find my recommend anywhere," I said, my head held low. I couldn't tell if she was upset with me or not when she said, "Oh." She called a  few people while I stood there on my driveway, trying desperately not to cry in front of her. Why would Heavenly Father not want me to go to the temple? 
Eventually my leader arranged for me to have an interview with the bishop right before we left and I got a new recommend. I was able to make it to the Timpanogos temple with my YW group.

When we got inside, I changed into my white clothes and looked in the mirror. In my eyes, I looked really ugly with my hair pulled hastily back, my make-up washed off, and wearing an ill-fitting jumpsuit. I felt subconscious as I left the dressing room, but tried not to think about it too hard. We did baptisms first. We had to wait for really long time, but after I was done and back in the dressing room, I felt different. I changed into a new jumpsuit for confirmations. But that time, when I saw myself in the mirror, I didn't look ugly. my hair was wet, my apparently poorly washed off mascara now formed dark circles under my eyes, and I was wearing another ill-fitting jumpsuit, but for a moment, it was as if I was seeing myself through God's eyes. It didn't matter that I was fat or pale or had split ends or stubby fingers. I was doing the Lord's work, and I looked beautiful. I don't think I will ever forget that moment, because I have never felt like that in my life.

I know that God loves us very much and knows we are all beautiful and have divine worth and he rejoices when we are in his service. He does answer our prayers, even if it's in an unexpected way. I'm so grateful for my knowledge of the gospel and the opportunity I have to have so many temples nearby. I hope I can remember those things forever.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Definition of Peace

I think my all-time favorite moment in daily life is going to bed. On nights when my homework is done early, I let my hair down, slip on a clean nightgown, and slide into soft, freshly washed, evenly tucked sheets. Those first few minutes in bed before I start thinking about my life are always bliss. That's my definition of peace.

Friday, March 1, 2013

He Is Totally Reading This

Dear Ale, I typed into a new email.

I'm in Digital Photo right now. I finished my assignment... this class can be super boring sometimes because 75% of the time we're not even editing pictures. We mostly just take notes and quizzes. Kinda lame.
I'm extremely pleased with the fact that it's Friday. This has been the longest week of all time.

briefly paused my letter-writing to check my grades, but then returned to Gmail.

So I was checking my grades just now, and the guy next to me (who is clearly very bored) was watching me. "YOU HAVE A C+??" he teased in a surprised voice. "Yeah, I'm not very good at math..." I said. He retaliated, "Psh, but you're a sophomore in Pre Calculus " I told him that was totally beside the point. It wasn't a big deal to skip Pre-Algebra in 7th grade. It doesn't mean I'm good at math. I think that's the longest conversation I've had with him all term.
Fifteen minutes left of class... I'm dying over here.

In the corner of my eye, the boy next to me was... doing nothing... which was suspicious. Earlier he had been  looking at photoshopped pictures of Obama riding dinosaurs on the internet and making them the wallpaper of his computer. Now, he was just sitting. Most boys are WAY to A.D.D. to do nothing but sit still.
He was definitely reading my email.
I chose to take advantage of the situation and mess with him a bit.

Remember that one time we killed that guy and hid his body under your porch? That was so funny! Great times.

I paused, listening for a reaction. He said nothing. Maybe I needed to sound even scarier. Crazy Teenage Girl Mode: Activated.

My life has been pretty boring without a crush. Like, I basically have nothing to daydream about anymore. I just think about nothing and/or the present moment. Which, we all know, is not nearly as fun as making up scenarios that will never happen. Like the one where he and I sit in the movie theater together and share popcorn and during that romantic scene we look at each other and--
Okay. I'll stop. I'm probably killing you right now.

It took every ounce of self control in my body not to laugh. But still, no reaction from him. He was a nut that was tough to crack, but I was determined to break him.

I'm pretty positive the kid next to me is reading this email. So IF HE IS READING THIS HE SHOULD TELL ME RIGHT NOW.....

"Heh heh." IT WAS A LAUGH. I distinctly heard it escape his lips. I smiled. Cracked.

He is totally reading this.
Hahahahaha oh man... I have a story to tell you later.


I signed out of my email and turned off my computer, three minutes of class left. I sat in my chair for a moment, silent. The boy next to me sat there in silence too, perhaps in anticipation.
"How did you know I was reading it?"
I laughed and we smiled at each other. "I just knew."

Song Obsessions: February

I don't know if anyone cares anything about these songs posts, but I enjoy making them, so...

I want to hide the truth,
I want to shelter you,
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide.
~Demons by Imagine Dragons~

Don't say goodbye, keep us alive,
Cause my world would stop if we didn't try.
Can we pretend, just for tonight?
Cause those words would tear the stars from the sky.
Don't say goodbye.
~Don't Say Goodbye by Olly Murs~

I usually hate Rihanna songs, but I love this one.
Funny you're the broken one,
when I'm the one who needed saving.
Cause when you never see the light,
It's hard to know which one of us is caving.
~Stay by Rihanna ft. Mikky Ekko~

Untouchable, burning brighter than the sun,
And when you're close I feel like coming undone.
~Untouchable by Taylor Swift~