Message to a friend:

It really is tough to relate sometimes to growing up with a family like yours. My family picks on each other, but because I’m forever the preemie-baby-who-had-that-bruising-virus, whenever my feelings got hurt a new boundary was drawn. On family road trips I always got the middle seat to myself, while my sisters shared the backseat. I liked it because I was closer to my parents as well as the door. And I guess I’ve always liked being left alone, which when I was little was as easy as having a partition as incomplete as a car seat. That’s all that was required for me to be in my own imaginary world (my parents were spies in my imaginary world. Also, my sisters were not my sisters– they may have been robots). That may not be why I got my way, but maybe it is. I can’t fathom it for you. I can’t believe that your parents are the people who make you feel worst about yourself.

I know you already think my parents were great supporters. You’ve said before my envious it makes you sometimes. And I really didn’t quite “get it” until recently…like, today. My dad is so completely uninterested in whatever I decide to do. He’s already told me the house is mine, if I want it, but that he’s probably moving back to Ohio to be with his parents and sisters in 2014. He has his plan and I’m not really a part of it (Katie’s pissed off that he wants to do this, by the way).  And my mom, if she were here, she’d say “in your own time, kiddo.” With the ignominy of death my mother has become something of a cool, whatever-you-want type figure with a hippy-ish way of speaking. Poor mom, my subconscious has ruined her. You knew her; that is basically what she’d say, if not the exact words. But I wish you could take my SUB-mom’s advice. Pressure is good, it makes you work hard. Pressure should come from you though. And not from the You who’s trying to please her parents. From the You that wants to be proud of what she does, but don’t think you have to have all the answers or all the paths figured out. You’ll get there. It’ll take some time. College was just the beginning of your re-education. You have to navigate everything else and I have absolute, unwavering confidence in you. You can do it. But in your own time, Kiddo.

And the other shit? Ugggh. Why can’t they just love you and worry about you in a healthier way? In a non-demeaning way. In a non-hurtful, non-judgmental way. I’m so glad I never dealt with that…from my parents. I’ve definitely hated my body at different moments or periods of my life, but my parents never really say anything and when my dad did, well I made him realize that he really can’t remark on it. I’m sorry you have that. It’s so dumb, simple as that. All those beauty products and junk talk about how this or that will change your life by changing your complexion or eye-lash length or appearance of cellulite, but they always say the same thing: “healthy-looking” or “natural-looking.”And all I think is, what’s more natural and healthy than just looking the way I really do?

Anyway, I love you and I hope I didn’t sound sanctimonious. I just really wanted to say something.