If you could go back in time exactly 10 years and give yourself some advice, what would you tell yourself?

The truck door slams as I pull it closed behind me. The lifted, white Ford diesel pickup was harder to get into than I thought, especially with my tight jeans. I wonder if I ripped a hole in them from the climb. I quickly check while my date rushes around to the driver's side. Nothing like making a first impression with a huge hole. Thankfully, the seams are still stitched together. Barely. Guess my social life isn't the only thing hanging by a thread.
Finding something suitable to wear was hard. I have to look just right, and it's been a while since I actually cared how I look. Dressed to impress, but not overly so. Not casual, but casual enough to be able to be prepared for anything the date could include. It's like a dance, trying to guess the move of your partner before you know what it will be.
Tonight is another one of those for me, another first date. Even though I'm only twenty years old, I've had so many first dates, I've lost track. I really wish they were over. I am ready to be done dating. My soul is ready to settle down with someone I love and who loves me in return.
A surge of anticipation and adrenaline races through my system. What if he doesn't like me? What if I do something stupid? Do something wrong? How many more of these dates can I take? I shove down my worries and paste on a smile. 
My date, Steve, jumps into the cab. He makes it look effortless. Must be because he's got about ten inches of extra height than me.
As he shifts the truck into drive, I take a moment to check him out, because come on, let's be honest, physical attraction is a big part of dating.
He's cute, in a non-assuming type of way. Athletic build. Broad shoulders. A total cowboy, complete with Wranglers and a plaid shirt.
I've dated a cowboy before. I didn't think I would do it again, especially since a true cowboy only has one thing on his mind: When's the next rodeo. Guess I will have to find out if he's a cowboy or farm boy. The two can sometimes be hard to discern from each other at first, but there is a huge difference.
His side profile is like a portrait. I want to paint it, capture how perfect it is, even though I'm not an artist. A pang of insecurity pops in my belly. My side profile is something I don't like about myself. I concentrate on keeping my gaze toward him.
He turns to look at me as he asks me where I want to go for dinner.
I can't help but add his gentlemanly manners to his good qualities. The fact that he opened the truck door for me, and how he's asking me where I'd like to eat instead of just deciding for me. I like a man who has respect and consideration for those he's around.
I ask him what he feels like, hoping that he will give me some sort of hint. I hate making the date decisions all on my own. If I am to end up in a relationship with this guy, I want it to be a joint thing, not one sided, where he or I make all the decisions. Been there. Done that. Not going back.
He takes a few moments to think before he suggests a great pizza place in town. I love the idea, and quickly agree. 
As we get into the restaurant and take our seats, I make sure to sit up straight.
My whole list of things to make sure I do on a date pops into my mind. A checklist, if you will. My date doesn't have to be perfect, but I do.
Sit up straight until conversation begins. Then lean in and engage not only with words, but with eyes, facial and body expressions. After all, body language makes up for a lot more than words.
Listen. Don't dominate the conversation. If anything, ask most the questions and then pay attention. The details are key. And stories. You can learn a lot about a person with the stories they tell.
Be polite. Thank them for their good manners. Everyone can use a little appreciation now and then, especially if they deserve it.
The list goes on and on. I won't bore you by continuing. But it's perfection. Truly. I've gotten it down to a science. Most of my first dates turn into planning second dates before the night is over. It's not something I'm cocky about, it's just that I've been here so many times, I've got it down.
As I sink into my pillows later that night, I review my evening. My heart gives a little leap in my chest, because to be honest, I had a really good night. Not only did the conversation go well, I feel a great connection with Steve. And connection is everything. If you can't connect, then how are you supposed to form a relationship?
I run my fingers over the top of my comforter, wondering how my life will go. Will I be looking back in ten years, thinking my problems were small and insignificant? Will I be regretting my choices? Will I make the right ones? Marriage is such a huge part of my future. And I want my future to be filled with happiness and success. So the decision of whom I will marry is kind of a big deal. In order to find my Mr. Right, I need to be Mrs. Right. I hope that day comes sooner than later.
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Ten years later...
Life has turned out much better than expected. Not thanks to me, but to God and how He guided and directed my life. Not only did my Mr. Right find me, he is more than I could've ever imagined. The funny thing is, once I stopped looking for him, he found me. That's my first piece of advice. Stop looking for Mr. Right. You will find each other when the time is right. And no, my Mr. Right is not my date in this story. But Steve was a very nice young man who I am sure has made some special lady very happy in life.
Another thing I wish I could go back and tell myself is: to be myself. I tried so hard to be perfect and make everyone else happy. By trying so hard to please others, I lost myself in the mix. Forgot who I was. It wasn't until I began to just be myself that I found out who I was and what I wanted out of life, and in someone else (to love me for me, not the perfect person I was trying to be).
Lastly, I would say to hold your head high. This was an extremely rough time for me. I had just gotten out of an abusive engagement and I was trying to figure out what a healthy relationship was again. I had low self esteem, and thought that if I wasn't perfect in every way, then I wasn't worth even considering as a human being. But I realize now that no matter how beaten down you are, that you're still important. Still loved. Still have a purpose in life. Don't give up. Hold on. Life does get better.