That's how all my letters begin. First the DEAR part, because that's just what you Wright at the top of any letter. That's standard. Next comes the name of the person your writing to. In this case.its me so, yeah, Evan Hanson.
Evan is actually my middle name. My mom wanted me to be Evan and my dad wanted me to be mark, witch is his name. My dad won the battle, According to my birth certificate, My mom won the war. She never called me anything other than Evan. As a result, neither has my dad ( spoiler alert: my parents are no longer together ) I'm only mark on my drivers license ( which I never use ), or when Im filling out job applications, or when it's my first day of school, like today. My new teachers will call out "mark" during attendance, and I will have to ask each one to please call me by my middle name. Naturally, this will have to be done when everyone one will have vacated the room.There are million and ten things from the subatomic to the cosmic that can rattle my nerves on a daily basis. And those things Is my initials M.E.H like the word: meh. Meh is basically a shoulder shrug, and that Pretty much sums up my reaction I get from a society at large.As opposed to the surprise of oh. Or the wow of ah. Or the hesitation of uh. Or the confusion of huh. Meh is pure indifference.Take it or leave it. Doesn't matter.Don't cares. Mark Evan Hansen? Meh. I'd rather think of myself as eh,which is More than seeking approval, waiting for confrontation. Like. How about that Evan Hansen. Eh. My mom says I'm a true pisces. The symbol For a Pisces is two fish tied together Trying to swim in the opposite directions.She's into all that astrology crap. I installed an app on her phone that displays her daily horoscope. Now she'll leave me handwritten messages around the house, saying things like: Step outside your comfort zone. Or she'll cram the day's message into our conversations: Take on a new challenge. A business venture Today is going to be an amazing day, and here's why. Positive outlook yields positive experience. That's the basic concept behind this letter-writing assignment. I tried to get out of it at first. I tried to get out of it at first. I told Dr. Sherman, "I don't think a letter to myself is going to help much I wouldn't even know what to write."He perked up, leaning forward in his leather chair instead of casually sitting back as he usually did. "You don't have to know. That's the point of the exercise. To explore. For example, you could start with something like, 'Today is going to be an amazing day, and here's why.' Then go from there." Sometimes I feel like therapy is total bullshit, and other times I think the real problem is that I can never get myself to fully buy in. Anyway, I ended up taking his advice—verbatim. (One less thing to think about.) Because the rest of the letter is tricky. The first line was just an opening statement, and now I have to support that statement in my own words. I have to prove why today is going to be an amazing day when all evidence suggests.Every day that came before today was definitely not amazing, so why would I think today would be any difference Truth? I don't. So, it's time to power up my imagination, make sure that every single molecule of creativity is wide awake and pitching in. (It takes a molecular village to write an amazing pep talk.)
Because today all you have to do is just be yourself. But also confident. That's important. And interesting. Easy to talk to. Approachable. And don't hide, either. Reveal yourself to others. Not in a pervy way, don't disrobe. Just be you—the true you. Be yourself. Be true to yourself. The true me. What does that even mean? It sounds like one of those faux-philosophical lines you'd hear in a black-and-white cologne commercial. But okay, whatever, let's not judge. As Dr. Sherman said we're here to explore. Exploring: I have to assume this "true" me is better in life.
