Dear Myra, on your first day of seventh grade, I wanted to sit down and write you a letter. Namely, I wanted to remind you not to be anxious about starting a new school.
So do not be nervous.
But then, of course, whenever someone tells you NOT to do something, your brain ends up doing it even worse. It’s human nature.
An example of this would be if I were to tell you NOT to envision your little brother, Jason, going poop. Immediately, you would envision little Jason, sitting on the toilet, waiting for the spirit to move, shouting at you, and saying, “THERE’S SOMEONE IN HERE!”
Which is what all people shout in bathroom stalls when people try to barge in on them. We use these words verbatim. I don’t know why we all shout these exact words in public bathrooms. Whenever a bathroom stall is locked, there is obviously someone in there. There is no need to shout about it.
This is why, whenever someone tries to barge in on me
in a public restroom, I start singing. Usually, I sing something from the catalog of James Brown. Such as, “I Feel Good,” or “Let a Man Come in and Do the Popcorn.” Because that is the kind of world I want to live in.
But what I am getting at is that you shouldn’t be nervous today, Myra, because you have nothing to be nervous about.
I know your parents are both recently deceased from a car accident. I also know you and your brother are living in foster care with Miss Pamela, whom you barely know.
Your life is upside down. And now it’s time to start a new school. You have anxiety. You have panic attacks. You’re nervous. But the truth is, you don’t need to be worried. And I’m going to tell you why.
Because today is no ordinary day, Myra. Oh, it…