Dear sweet, brilliant little doves,
Grownups are so stupid.*
(*Not all grownups, of course. The world is blessed with unbelievably amazing, wonderful, stupendous, crazy cool grownups but it seems like somehow the stupid grownups have a bigger role in our lives than the good ones.)
They don’t even know what they don’t know and walk around thinking they know everything because they’re a grownup and you’re a kid.
How some of them are that dumb and still able to eat with a fork is a wonder.
It’s okay for me to say this. I’m a grownup after all, and I really don’t mind if some grownup reads this and thinks, “Hmmpff!” because he or she is probably stupid. The cool grownups will nod like yup. Shoo, stupid grownups. Take a hike from here. Go on. Shoo.
I once met someone who didn’t go to college until she was like 40 years old because as a kid, her mother told her she wasn’t smart enough for college. In drunken rants, this mother also told this beautiful woman that she was fat and ugly and that no man would ever love her. She married the first man who told her she was pretty because she feared she’d find no other man to love her. He turned out to be a real jerk. It took her almost 40 years to realize that her mother was stupid. 40 years!
Yesterday at Target, I heard a man yelling as if someone had walked up and dropped a bowling ball on his toe. Naturally, I peaked around the corner of the aisle. This man, about my age, was scolding his daughter who couldn’t have been more than three years old with pigtails and a too-small-to-zip coat. I have no idea what she did wrong but what trouble can a three year old at Target get into anyway? Wandering off or whining for a toy?
“You’re a braaaat!!” Meano Mad Dad leaned in and shouted in her face. “A little brat!”
I winced and nearly dropped a jar of strawberry jelly. The little girl wailed as Meano Mad Dad hoisted her over his shoulder and zoomed toward the exit. I teared up, of course, and said a silent prayer for pigtails girl and for Meano Mad Dad.
Sorry, lady in the aisle with me, for blocking the peanut butter and jelly section for a while. I get emotional when it comes to little cubs and a bit of worry over that event sort of ruined my happy Target shopping trip.
When I was little, a loved one told me I shouldn’t waste my time writing or studying it in college because only a few super talented people in the world could make a living doing it. I gave up writing for a long, long time.
Last year, when I was almost done with the fourth draft of my novel manuscript, this same person told me I was a fool waste my time because nothing would ever come of it.
Sting! I felt 12 years old again.
I said, “I’m not trying to be J.K. Rowling. I write because it makes me happy, and maybe someone else will like it, too. That is all.” I walked away and pretended it was no biggie but you know what? At 28 years old, it still hurt and I cried. Yep.
See what I mean? Grownups are stupid, even parents and grandparents and other people who are “supposed” to be encouraging.
They can say and do EXTREMELY hurtful things and they might always be kinda hurtful at times, no matter how old you are.
Grumpy-pants, twisted-brained, angry-hearted, regrets-filled grownups, shut your faces, mmm kay?
Listen, chickadee, just because someone’s older than you in age doesn’t mean he/she is smarter/wiser/kinder than you.
You can be 12 years old in body and a gazillion times smarter than them in mind. You already know this; I’m just making sure.
Never let their negative words echo in your mind or your heart. Blow away their weightless words. Hold onto the sweet ones from smart grownups.
No one should ever tell you that your dreams aren’t worth making happen or that you’re anything less than
ABSOLUTELY FLIPPING AMAZING,
AND GOING TO HAVE A MERRY LIFE DOING WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU WANT TO DO.
You can be an un-grownup when you’re a grownup.
Oh, I can’t wait to have another un-grownup here in grownup land.
Maybe you’ll play in a band, even when people tell you can’t play well. Maybe you’ll make movies and write books, even when people tell you there’s no point. Maybe you’ll study diseases and find ways to stop them, even when people tell you you’re not smart enough. Maybe you’ll take photographs or fix cars, even when people tell you don’t have the talent. Maybe you’ll save lives, protect people and help them in their worst of times, even when people tell you not to care. Maybe you’ll be a congressman/woman and keep our country awesome, even when people tell you that’ll happen when pigs fly. Maybe you’ll invent something that changes everything for the better, even when people laugh and tell you to get your head out of the clouds and back down to reality.
Maybe you’ll make world-famous gingerbread cookies, scuba dive, paint, build stuff, dance beside an ocean, ride the tallest rollercoasters…when you’re 20, when you’re 45, when you’re 60.
You’ll do whatever it is that makes you happy.
The world is yours, chickadee, no matter what anyone tells you.
Hug hope to find the sunshine.