From Danika Starbourne
Danika Starbourne
High Ridge Observatory
Mom,
I don’t know how else to say this, so I’ll keep it simple: I am not going to Bebe and Matt’s wedding.
I sent back the first RSVP. And the second. How many times do I have to decline before people take the hint? I do not want to go. I will not go. End of discussion.
Also, please stop giving people this address.
I came up here to work and get away from all of this nonsense, but apparently, my mailbox didn’t get the memo.
Every time I check it, there’s another letter pulling me back into a world I have no interest in.
I moved to an actual observatory to avoid people, and yet, here we are.
Just so we’re clear—I am not happy for Bebe and Matt. I am not angry with them either. I am ambivalent. Completely, utterly indifferent.
Bebe was never a friend to me. I learned that when we were kids, when she used to spread rumors about me at school just to watch me squirm.
Then she’d get mad when I didn’t care what the other kids were saying about me.
She’s always been more interested in making herself look good than in actually being a decent human being.
If she thinks she won something by taking Matt, good for her.
I broke up with him months before they started sneaking around.
I’d stopped answering his texts, and eventually, he got the message.
Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe Bebe swooped in and saved him. If so, too bad for her.
As for me? I’m not interested in dating right now.
I know that will disappoint you. I know you’d rather me show up at that wedding, having shoved my size ten body in a size three dress, with a male model or a billionaire or whatever fantasy scenario you’ve cooked up in your head.
But I have comfy yoga pants that I fit in and more important things to focus on.
My art.
I have an opportunity to show my work at a major gallery. This is the biggest opportunity I’ve ever had, and instead of wasting time worrying about a wedding I have no interest in, I’m pouring myself into my work. This is what matters to me.
Please try and understand.
And give me some space to work.
I love you, Mom. With all my heart and my toes, too.
Now leave me alone.
(Imagine me slamming my door on you like that time you wanted to explain the birds and bees to me with a PowerPoint and finger puppets. Just no, Mom. I got this one on my own.)
xoxoxxx
~Dani