Whether they choose to acknowledge it, every individual born in the '90 had an emo phase. It was inevitable. The mixture of hormones and the early 2000s pop-punk renaissance was more than enough to send every middle school in the United States into the deep, dark pit of it's-not-a-phase-mom-ness. Once you are done repressing those memories of Myspace and pants tight enough to cut off your circulation, there are five things that every middle school emo kid is sure to remember.

1. This Hair.

There was nothing more tragic than having to IM all your friends and tell them that your Mom said no again to letting you do this to your hair. Ugh, she just doesn't understand!

I thought I was going to wait until I was 40 to say this, but here goes: Mom, you were right. Thank you for not letting me do this to my head.

2. The Eyeliner — Oh God, THE EYELINER

Don't get me wrong, I'm always down for a solid cat eye look. But this was middle school. I had never picked up a makeup brush before, and I certainly did not know how to use it. But dammit, I did know how to try. On a good day, my eyeliner was a straight line from the corner of my eye to my temple, and on a bad day. Well, let's just say all of my pictures from these years have mysteriously vanished. What a shame.

3. The "LOL SO RANDOM XD" Humor

I have no explanation for what amused about this mid-2007, but there was something about misspelling things and adding in buzzwords like "cheese," "bacon," "narwhal," or "dinosaur" that tickled my funny bone. My humor, luckily, has evolved beyond this to the grammatically incorrect text posts of Tumblr and Shia LaBoeuf telling me to "Just Do It." Yes, I know that is a half step of improvement at best. Don't look at my shame.

4. Skinny Jeans And Black Tees For Days

If your jeans weren't so tight that you couldn't feel your legs, and your studded belt was not skewed just so, did you even emo?

5. Music Was Your Life Blood, And You Wanted The World To Know It

There is something about wearing all-black clothing that makes you have the need to be an elitist music snob at all times. None of that country or rap music for me, good sir! No, I will not disdain my ears with such filth -- rather, I will listen to the loudest, screechiest music that has ever graced the Earth. Yes, that is the quality content I wish to place within my brain.

Dear Ghost of Emo Past,

I'm glad you have music that you enjoy listening to, but no one wants to listen to your opinion on their music taste, nor does anyone want to listen to your aforementioned screechy, nightmare-inducing music, particularly your mother as she is driving you home from middle school at three in the afternoon. However, she will love you enough to let you play it anyway. Thank her.

Love, Your Future Self.

However, elitist snob nonsense aside, this is the part of your inner emo that you'll carry with you for the rest of your life. It doesn't matter how far from the stereotype you run, at the end of the day, if the first note of "Welcome To The Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance or "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" by Panic! At The Disco plays on the radio, you are going to sing every word at the top of your lungs with absolutely no regrets.

Sing on, emo kid, sing on.