The Dreamer ✓

Letter 20

NO.20; A LETTER TO THE PERSON YOU WISH YOU COULD BE

MARCH 15th, 2014

Dear Me,

On Saturday I was on the bus going to meet up with Adeola, Georgia and Laurel at the cinemas to see The Grand Budapest Hotel. Georgia's been raving about it for weeks 'cause Wes Anderson is her favourite director and she'd somehow convinced us to go see it with her. I really didn't have anything better to do with my weekends (not that I usually do) and I wouldn't mind spending the afternoon with my friends. Anyway, as I was staring blankly out of the bus window, lost in my own thoughts and not really paying any attention to anything the bus came to halt a few cars behind a traffic light.

My eyes flitted up and landed on an extensive poster of a model plastered across the bus opposite. It was a perfume ad for Vera Wang, in which a beautiful, shimmering woman emerged from a lake of gold. She'd pushed her blond hair back, slick with water and stared at me with hooded eyes, her mouth slightly parted. Behind her, the sky was black and starless and yet she was bathed in gold light. In bold, italic letters the words, Goddess Rising were written in the black sky above her. She looked like she was made of something ethereal, she didn't belong to this world. She was beautiful with smooth, radiant skin and a slim, curvy body so many women would kill to have and so many men wanted in their partners. She was desire personified.

And suddenly a line from The Merchant of Venice came to mind as I stared back at the woman.

"All that glitters is not gold," I mumbled.

The light turned green, the bus lurched and continued down the road. The woman's hooded eyes followed me, almost leering in her gaze. The bus turned a corner and she was out of view and I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding.

I couldn't get the woman out of my head for the rest of the day and it got me thinking about the person I wish I could be.

You see, I have this idea of myself. This idealised form I've been looking up to all these years. I like to call her Morgana 2.0. An upgraded version I've been scrambling to reach for so long. Do you want to know what she's like? Morgana 2.0 is taller. Her complexion is clear, blemish free and acne resistant. Her hair falls down to her elbows in glossy waves. Her eyes are bright, sharp and all-seeing. Her teeth are white and straight and her smile is award-winning, it could bring armies to their knees. This Morgana doesn't have a black-hole where her heart should be. Her chest is not empty. Her ribcage is made of steel and it protects the beating heart inside it. It's the kind of heart many would kill to have beating for them.

I envy her to the point my vision is clouded with green rage and I want nothing more than to destroy myself in order to become like her. I compare her to the woman I saw on the advert, that golden goddess, and I understand that neither are real. The person I wish I could be, that idealised version of myself is too...too perfect and perfection is a myth. I keep repeating to myself that to err is human. I realise that the person I kept wishing to be all these years, beautiful, tall, confident, radiant, was what society had nailed into me. So, this letter is not to Morgana 2.0. This letter is more to my future self than anyone else.

The person I wish I could be isn't perfect or radiant or even beautiful. Beauty can only take you so far. The person I wish I could be is happy. Happy and loved and comfortable in my own skin. You might want to be desired or loved or immortal but ultimately, I think what we all want is to be happy. It's the only pursuit I will spend the rest of my life searching for. 

Unlike perfection, happiness is not a myth. It's as real as the sensation of sunlight falling through the window and warming my skin. I've felt it. It's my little sister's sweet laughter when Evelyn kisses her cheek. It's James' smile, bright and electric. It's my mother holding me close and singing me to sleep. It's looking up at the night sky, stars blinking in the darkness and understanding you are part of something greater than yourself. It's real and attainable and it's the thing only I want. I want to be happy. Maybe, it's the only thing worth being – worth having in life.

Love, Morgana.