We were girls with loud voices, notoriously resented by the staff of our school for being outspoken and difficult to tame, as a year group. We were creative, wild and a bundle of loose canons set to explode into adulthood. Yet, these same girls, myself included, were unsure of ourselves, anxious and self-conscious in the extreme.
Yet, somewhere not-so-deep down, I have had a shame about the content I produce, the words I write. I let others decide what my words are worth in my mind and deny them the ability to declare them useless by not sharing what I work on, what I value most. After all, if the critics can't find your work, then you're safe, right? All in all, it's a tremendously stupid system.
At first, I was unsure what it was about this statement that truly struck me as unique and thought-provoking. Then I realised that if we all were to believe that we were at the exact right time in the world, then we would live our lives led by our potential, rather than our detriments.
Yet here is what I can do; I can remind them that they are magic to every life they touch. This is a shout of love into the void of pain, reminding you, my beloved friend, that to feel alone is but an illusion. You will never stand alone, you always have me. I will be your fortitude, your crutch and your cheerleader whenever the need arises. I cannot solve your problems, but I will ensure that you do not face them alone.
To my playschool kindred spirit whom I will never do the disservice of forgetting. To my primary school best friend who indulged all of my creative whims with a beautiful, open mind. To my secondary school brother-in-arms who gave me permission to present as exactly myself each day without exception. To my university soul sister, who breathes glitter and electric love to this day. To the friends of old, who’s imprints do not fade.
On that day, a day when a fluid definition of success flows through our veins, I know that we will cheer louder for each other than anyone else because truly, we'll have earned it, deserving a time where our creativity knows no bounds.
Was that condemnation of a stranger's littering only an opportunity to remind ourselves of just how good and moral we are, by way of rid ourselves of responsibility over it?