open letter

Dear Radio DJs

First off, props!

I know it must be tough sitting in a booth all day, rambling mostly to yourself, but in a way that other people can appreciate and (mostly) not want to stab you for. Also, how do you gab on and on about a product you are sponsored by or a music festival you are hosting, but time it so at the exact moment you finish, the opening line of a song starts? Seriously, it’s really impressive.

All that being said however, let’s get down to the meat of this letter, the wiki wiki (oops, wrong kind of DJ) reason I’m writing you today: I want need you to take me on a better journey.

Hear me out.

Have you ever been in a really great mood? We’re talking nothing is going wrong, I’m crushing life, haters come at me and I will literally kill you with my kindness type of day?

I hope so.

Have you ever been having this type of day and then turned on the radio to have your jam come on, making it an even better day?!

Again, I hope so.

Have you ever been having a great day, then heard your jam on the radio, and then anxiously waited out the moments of radio silence to see what magic melody was going to play next, only to have it be the most depressing song of all time? We’re talking a song that makes you question the definition of life and wonder if you’ve ever experienced a happiness as real as the sadness provoked by its lyrics.

Do you see the problem here?

Do you see how your body was given no time to prepare for such a cosmic mood shift?

It’s like when you think jumping in a hot shower after being out in the snow will be a great idea, but for the first five minutes you just stand there with your entire body stinging as it tries to thaw out.

All I’m saying is, ease me into the depression or joy or love or anger you want to share, then ease me back out. Don’t just give me an ice cream cone and then rip it out of my hand and throw it into a river.

Other than that though, keep doing what you’re doing. I love (most of) your work.

Sincerely, A Girl Whose Emotions Are Clearly Too Affected By Music

 

To All the Girls I’ve Ever Compared Myself To

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for all the times I looked at you like an object when every moment of every day I argue why no one should ever do that.

I’m sorry for looking at your body and wishing I had the same one.

I’m sorry for making assumptions about you based on our differences.

I’m sorry for not paying enough attention to what you were saying because I was so worried about delivering a response that would make people like me the way they like you.

I’m sorry for talking about you positively at the expense of myself and I’m sorry about all the times I tried to build myself up with bricks that would tear you down.

I’m sorry for the negative comments about you that I might have agreed with, or failed to openly disagree with.

I’m sorry I tried to relate to you in a way that was dishonest to who I really am.

I’m sorry for not calling you beautiful more often and I’m sorry for deflecting any kind words you said to me rather than simply saying “thank you.”

I’m sorry for drawing generalized conclusions about “your type” instead of looking at you as an individual.

I’m sorry for blaming you for things that had only to do with me.

I’m sorry for being a less honest version of myself in exchange for being a less authentic version of you.

There is only one you, and there is only one me, and I can love them both for who they are and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to figure that out.

 

This article was featured on HuffingtonPost