Dear Reader, I Wish I Could Give You Perfect
I wish I could give you perfect. I wish I could use all the right words — the best words — and string them all together in the most extraordinary, unexpected ways. I wish I could seamlessly segue from one paragraph to the next. I wish I could put every sentiment, every section in its rightful place — so that your journey with me may never feel abrupt or confusing or unnecessarily difficult. I wish I could spot every darling and kill every last one of them. I wish I could edit this a little bit more; I want nothing more than to be sure that I have respected the time you have given me.
The things I write about matter a great deal to me. They are, as written in a post-it right in front of me, “ideas that I burn for”. But why I’m so precious when it comes to writing them is less about my affinity for them than my conviction that there is at least one other person out there who needs to hear them. Someone who has gone through or is going through the same thing. Someone who can’t help but feel she’s alone and wants to feel understood. Someone who wants to put some kind of form into her hard-to-describe feelings. Someone seeking comfort. Connection. Or a place, as Emma Watson said, where you can go rest and feel… held. Someone who, even with just an inkling of courage, wants to see her life — and herself — in a new, more hopeful light.
If you are that someone, I really wish I could offer you perfect. But all I have is real. All I have is honesty. I can bring you into my life. Into my mind. Into my truth. I can promise that I’ll muster the courage to take a hard look within — and find the story worth sharing. I can promise you my hard-won lessons from yesterday. An exploration of today. Maybe even something to hold on to for tomorrow.
I can’t lead with perfection, but I can promise that I will always lead with passion. That I’ll be wary of the elusive balance between word efficiency and raw emotion. That I’ll try harder to weave my experiences and sentiments together in a way that moves me. Because that, I believe, is the surest way I can get to you. And despite the arduous process of making art, I can promise you: I will never settle until my story finds its throughline and its soul.
I can’t promise you perfect. But I hope everything else will be enough.