Dear Mom...

Dear Mom,

           Hi. I don’t really know what to say. I don’t even know if you’ll ever see this, but I’ve decided it makes sense that if I write to someone on the other side, they would allow you to read it somehow. I try to believe that your always with me, like you promised, but I still miss you so much. I do believe that you watch out for me, keeping up with my life, but I’m sure you’re too busy to spend every moment watching. At least, I hope there’s more for you to do than just watch me. I would be the most boring reality show ever. If you get bored of watching me, are you able to switch to watching someone more interesting? Like the Kardashians or the Housewives or something? Or does it have to be someone you know? For their privacy? Does our privacy matter up there? I guess you can’t answer me. I’m just writing through my thoughts at this point.

Anyway, if you can read this somehow, you probably don’t want this whole letter to be about where you are. You’re there every day. I’m sure you have a lot of questions about what I’ve been doing recently. I’ve thought about it a lot and I’d have to assume that seeing into my head is definitely not allowed, so you must be lost. I’ll explain. Where do I start…?

Well, do you remember when I was 11, the first time I visited you in the hospital, we were watching Mean Girls and I said I want to be Regina George when I grow up? Then you said I didn’t want to be her and I asked why not? Looking back, I’m sure your mind was full of reasons relating to her being a bad person or having no real friends or not having a good, loving mother, but we both know none of that would have changed my mind. Instead, you told me she wasn’t real but the actress, Rachel McAdams, was a better goal anyway. You said she was lucky because she got to be Regina George for a bit, but then she got to go to another job and be someone else or go home and be herself.

You made it sound like the best life ever, just changing who you are every day. I was so excited when I told you I was going to be an actress too. Then you said “Being an actress is only fun if at some point you get to be yourself, too. You need people who care about you that know you’re acting.” I thought that was just some “be yourself” garbage all moms feed their kids. Who would want to be themselves when they could step into the shoes of characters with far more interesting lives instead? I didn’t really give your words a second thought until recently.

I’m sure you already know the basics of the last few years, so I won’t waste our time recapping each and every foster home I’ve gone to or how long I was there. I’m sure you saw all the depressing introductions and the pitiful looks for yourself. Maybe you already understand why I didn’t want to go through that anymore. It must have been just as pathetic and depressing to watch as it was to live. So for the fifth house, I decided to be a new person. I forgot that the parents would already have my file, though, and the other kids in the house were ruthless when my first dinner had me exposed as a liar. I bet that hurt to watch, huh?

I didn’t really get to try a new persona until a few months later at the sixth house. I was so affected by the Dinner Incident that I decided to start small. I wonder if you even noticed? I never outright lied about my history, not that anyone asked, but in my head, I pretended I came from money and was new to the middle-class lifestyle. I imagined that I only had to live with regular people until I was 18 and that I had a trust fund waiting for me. I pretended that I was a loner because I thought I was above the painfully average people all around me and that one day I would rejoin high society. It was just a back-story, but I know I carried myself differently and I like to believe it projected to those around me. Did you notice a difference? Maybe you just thought I was happier or more confident? If you did notice, now you know why.

The seventh house was less subtle. I took on the personality of a movie cheerleader. It’s amazing how big of a difference that makes. I had loads of friends at that school. Everyone wanted to be around me. Who knew it was that easy? What’s even more amazing, though, was how even when I told the truth about you and my living situation, the bubbly nature of my persona kept the tone from getting too heavy. They would simply say “that sucks” and we would move on. It’s like magic. It’s also exhausting. I’m glad it was only a few months before Mrs. Johnson decided she needed less charges. As nice as she was, she really was doing too much. Maybe my high energy was the last straw in overwhelming her? I’m sure it helped her in the long run to cut down the amount of kids in her house. Regardless, I was off to House Eight.

As fun as House Seven me was, I needed a persona that took less energy for the eighth house. The obvious option was the brooding silent type with a dark secret. I don’t even know what my dark secret was. I just kept my words to a minimum, only responding when spoken to and even then, I’d keep it to one- to three-word answers. For the most part, knowing I was a foster kid was explanation enough for my demeanor and I didn’t have to offer up much else. It was kinda fun to have people be scared of me for no reason, but it was also kinda lonely. That’s when I remembered what you said about needing someone who knows the real you. Without having another person in on the joke, another person who knew why it was so funny that almost-fully grown men were keeping their distance so as not to offend me, the fun wore off pretty quickly. Luckily, House Eight was through with me pretty quickly too. I actually feel bad for them. They seemed like a nice couple, but I was their first foster kid and dark, mysterious me terrified them. Ms. LaPorte expected bubbly cheerleader me when she placed me there, and instead they got a moody, damaged teenager. I hope I didn’t scare them off of foster kids forever.

Anyway, I’m heading to House Nine and I was trying to decide who to be, but I’m having a hard time finding the excitement from the last few houses knowing the novelty will wear off without someone else in on the joke. But to take on a whole new person, I need to start on the first day. How will I know who to let in on the joke on the very first day? It’s not worth the risk that someone blows the whole thing. I was just wishing you were here to be in on the joke with me. I thought maybe, if I write to you about all the little things that happen because of my persona, that could be enough to keep it fun. Plus, that way you don’t have to waste so much time watching me. I’ll just fill you in! Still, I’d like to believe that when those little moments are happening in real time, you’re with me, laughing as everyone meets the fake version of myself I concoct, in on the joke. Anyway, the cab is almost to Ms. LaPorte’s office and I’m sure she has questions before moving me into this new place. I’ll write again when I decide who I’m going to be, so you can be in on it from the start. I love you and I miss you.

           Love,

Your (Hopefully) Favorite “Reality" Star