Happy Almost-Birthday. I’m flying out soon, so if I’m a little late writing then, that’s why (I’ll do my best though). How are you feeling? Anything planned for the day?
I had a sleepover a few days ago and saw the new Avatar. It was about what you’d expect. My friend got a new kitten: her name’s Pencil, and she’s a little angel. Tried to send a photo, but it didn’t work. It never works these days.
So, the Aaron-sperm-documentary is coming out now. The local newspaper is going to interview Aaron about it. I don’t feel good about it. It brings back a lot of memories of Mom making me play happy family in front of thousands of people as a traumatized kid, purportedly for your sake, but what did it do. I keep feeling all those eyes like I’m a Magnus Archives character. I don’t like being an F-lister. Why won’t they stop watching? I wish I never had to do it. If anything, I think you would’ve liked it better. But I feel like a variant of the influencer’s kid. Mom keeps calling me pissy. I don’t know, I try to be polite, but I just want nothing to do with it. Since Mom (Mel) left and started saying I wasn’t her kid in 2016, everyone — her, newspeople, Mom (Jess), that documentarian — have all been trying to tell me who my family is. I’m not allowed to have an opinion. It’s exhausting. My only family is you and our parents. And the cats. Only Cousin Laura understands.
I don’t know how you feel about the whole situation. But I do know that some shitty news outlets have reported child-me as “missing her sister, but enjoying life with her new family”. Don’t believe a word of it. I never wanted another family. Twelve-year-old me was actively and dangerously suicidal. And you know I never mentioned the sperm donor. It’s all a very Mamma Mia! -type of narrative. I love you, Soren, not anybody else. Don’t believe the news.
With love,
Alice