Dear me about six years ago,
Hey little me.
You’re 14, confused about everything.
I know you’re confused about where you are, what you want to be, and who you are even at the moment.
You wear dumb clothes that you think are fashionable, you scare your friends when you show them the music you listen to, you scream a lot (girl, calm the hell down), and you feel like the world is out to get you.
Truth is, the world isn’t out to get you. You’re out to conquer the world.
You have the biggest dreams. You dream every night about taking the world by storm and melting faces all over the globe. You don’t know how to achieve it, but trust me, you will. Even as I am writing this, I’m still working my ass off just to get the dreams you were dreaming at 14 rolling. Time is patience.
You try so hard to be against the system. You hate the people you’re growing up around, when in reality, they have their vices and virtues as you do. You won’t hate them anymore, you’ll block them out as you get older. Hopefully within a few years of me writing this, you will thank them in your acceptance speech for your People’s Choice award, Grammy award, Oscar award, whatever. Thank them for lighting the candle under your ass to get you going. Thank them for making your life a living hell so you know how to find the confidence within yourself to start walking with your head up.
You claim you hate your parents, but trust me, you love them. You love them so much. It takes some time, but you start to appreciate them more than anything as you grow older, because you start to see how life is so short.
You will see death, life and everything in between. I can’t tell you how to prepare, how to cope. I’m still learning this. I am honestly still young and I barely know what’s going on about anything. Find your positives; smile a lot.
Your friends love you. The friends you have will stick around for years. You’ll grow with them, get into trouble with them, and cry when you move away for college, 400 miles away from them. You’ll see them in the winter, the summer. Nothing is different. You’re all still the same.
You’ll get those tattoos and piercings mom told you to never get.
You'll learn to look in the mirror and go "Damn! You fine!" It takes some time, but trust me, it happens, and you look hot.
You wanted a taste of the road and the music industry, and you wouldn’t believe the people who took the chance on you. Thank them.
You wonder who’s going to be in your life 6 years later. The strong have stayed, the strong will enter.
The two boys you were sad over, they suck. Your life is so much better without them. They will mature, have their own lives, as you will have yours. Trust me, your life is a lot cooler. Wipe your tears, play your guitar.
You dreamt of living in California in six years, sike. You’re in Chicago, and you’ll love it. This city is yours.
You dream of meeting the Jonas Brothers, but honey, you have a big, expensive, and British storm of about 5 guys coming at you. Get ready for that.
My advice? Love yourself, love others. Back up your arguments, eat good food, pet all of the dogs you can. If someone asks you to hold their baby, do it. Get the opportunity to sneak into a concert at one of the biggest arenas in the country? It’s a part of being young and dumb, so do it.
Tell your mom, dad, brother, and sister you love them dearly.
Smile a ton.
Love,
A thriving, powerful, happier you in about 6 years.
PS: No, Beyoncé and RuPaul haven't signed the adoption papers yet.
