March 21st, 2009

Dear mum,

Would you be mad if I told you what I REALLY want to do? I'm sure you would. The thought that I'm not sure that I want to go to uni would tear you up, I'm sure. But it's true.

If I'm honest, then I don't know what it is that I want to do. All I know is that I love writing. Whether it's songs, poetry, stories, anything that allows me to express how I feel or to imagine a better life than the one I already have. You don't get that. You can't understand why I'm forever quoting my favourite lyrics and my favourite books. Why I'm always scrawling through various notepads (On a side note: I need a new one), why I'm always on my guitar or piano.

I told you that I want to be a journalist. Well, I don't. I love facts, but not those kinds of facts. I've always worn my heart on my sleeve (And I still bear most of the scars)and I want to inspire others to do the same. I want to help people come to terms with who they are without them having to resort to therapy. I want my writing to mean something to someone. Anyone. God, this sounds so cheesy, but that's what I want.

I've never wanted a conventional life. My friends have always reckoned that I'll fall head-over-heals for a guy in a band at a show, run off to Las Vegas with him and get married, then get pet cats instead of kids, for God's sake! And that's okay with me. I'm fine with me being the girl with the coffee mug, sitting in her flat writing on her laptop and guitar stuff that will strike a chord with one 15 year-old in the most remote town in America. And again, that's okay with me. Is it cool with you? Thought not.

I know you want what's best for me. And I respect that. I do, I swear. But I can't live out the life you want for me if it's not who I am.

I'm sorry if I seem like a failure, but I guess then that's just who I am. And I'm happy with who I am, so I'm not going to be changing any time soon, so you better get used to it.

Love,

Me.
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