Dear Moon,
I find myself thinking back to high school. I remember how one girl walked in, a tsunami not far off her heels. She flooded my friendship group and we all almost drowned. Creating and picking sides. Trying to chip at the glue that held us all together.
Why are there always people like that?
And why was it always me who brought them in?
Jealousy runs hot and thick, clogging any kind of peaceful resolution.
Them or her.
Her or them.
Me.
I was a terrible peacekeeper in highschool. Not from ill intention, but because I forgot that passionate spark in people can also cause forest fires. I watched the way people glow with such joy. Beautiful in the way brightly coloured animals are also often very lethal.
Highschool sometimes felt like being inside a salad spinner. Tossed around, struggling to put together a personality that didn’t betray who you were – but also didn’t scare people the moment they glanced at you.
I wish I could have told 17yr old Moon it would be okay. I wish I could tell them the highschool blinders will dissolve. And then… then you can decide what kind of ground you’ll stand on. Sit with yourself. Write yourself out and decide what is worthy of you.
And I’m sorry Moon. I’m sorry that you broke pieces off people rather than gripped their hands. I’m sorry you slipped off the smooth ball of people’s expectations. I’m sorry school felt like a play everyone knew the lines to, but no one bothered to show you the script. Or even your character77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKNHEYVr1Of
r in it. You were never an outsider. You just didn’t fit the slot you were given. You were and are more than the role you've been shoved into. You don't have to squeeze into the clothes of someone you're not.
But truly, it was a good thing, Moon. While your friends flailed around on the floor, trying to find the tips they broke off. Some, 10yrs later, are still on the floor. Too scared to leave the harbor but never learning how to sail their own ship. You were standing there as you were, ship damaged, but sea faring. Not what you could’ve been convinced to be.
Feeding the fire is so much easier to do than trying to relight the spark.
School isn’t evil. Highschool is a mental labyrinth. Climb the walls and get another view. There’s going to be someone like you wandering around the passageways.
Write it out. Breathe it out. Allow it to flow out of your fingertips. You’re made of stardust and determination. You’re unique and wonderful. Truly wonderful.
… even if you got stuck hanging on the gate at your highschool reunion.
Every strife is a new, funny conversation topic at a party. Every friendship you’ve lost holds a moment of personal clarity. I can bring and experience joy. I can be more and am more than other’s experiences or biases against me.
I am Moon. I am not who I was then. And I will not remain as I am now. Even the very cells of my body get renewed.
But I will hold the fragile complexity of hope within me. Try again. Be again. Love again.
Because you’ll rock the world, Kid. One day at a time. A ripple counts.
With Compassion,
Blue.
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