ToMyParents. MostlyMyMom. BeforeRent.

Dear Mom and Dad, 

I am not ready to have this conversation. 
Which is why we have never had it...

I was at rehearsal two weeks ago and we were doing table work. Meaning we listened to the design presentations and then Melinda, our director, gave us her directors concept; a 'why this show is important to me', and then opened it up to all of us to talk about this show. I learned a lot of things tonight. Things I've known for while but haven't really wanted to confront or deal with. 

But I learned tonight that I am at a crossroads; a turning point if you will. I cannot go forward in Rent in my current state. I simply cannot. Rent is going to require everything I have. EVERYTHING.

And you're going to miss it. 

We talked about how this show can scare people away because of the topics that are discussed. Words like: gay, aids, drag queen, poverty, drugs, sex...those are frowned upon. They are hidden away and spoken in hushed tones. But that's not what this story is about. This show was never intended to be in-your-face or shoved-down-your-throat. It is meant to start the conversations that need to happen and to bring awareness to the struggles that are being faced. When you get past the nitty-gritty "ooh that makes me uncomfortable" stuff, we see the true message and meaning behind this show: 
Love.
We are all more alike than we are different. 
Hope. 

And you're going to miss it. 

We talked about how important we feel this story is and how we want everyone to come and see this show. But we know that there are a lot of people who aren't ready to receive this message. We know that there a lot of people who won't come see this show for all kinds of reasons. We know people who we WISH would come see this show. And all I could think about was you. My parents. I invited you to this show and then once we got into rehearsals and I remembered and was reminded of the language and the things that are discussed in this show I decided that I didn't want to deal with the aftermath of you coming to see Rent. So I told you that you wouldn't like this show and that you shouldn't come see it. To which you replied by thanking me. And then asking when you would get to come see me in a show you could support me in. And I wanted to scream "this one! come and see this one!" 

But you're going to miss it. 

We talked about this show and why it is still relevant. When it was written it was all about the struggles of the time and especially HIV/AIDS. I have never had experiences with those sicknesses, so I have never really been able to relate to this show. But that night, we brought it to the forefront of our world today. Our "aids" of today is cancer. And then we started to talk about what "aids" was to each of us in our lives. We were actually given that assignment as homework; to figure out what aids means to us in our own, personal, lives. 
Because of that, I've been thinking about what kind of "illnesses" have affected the people around me. And when that still wasn't enough for me, I started thinking about what illnesses I've gone through and faced in my life. That thought process has brought me here. Writing a letter to you, my parents whom I love dearly, that you will probably never read.

I have since discovered that Rent has always scared me. It has scared me because I can tell I connect on a very deep level with this show. I can feel the free-spiritedness pull me, call to me...beckoning me to embrace it. 

To embrace myself. 

*The Rant Begins...It has a point, see below*

My whole life I've been the girl you wanted me to be. At least I've tried. I've tried to be a perfect goody-two-shoes and a perfect-molly-Mormon-girl to fit into your family because heaven forbid if someone doesn't fit your perfect-little-Mormon-cookie-cut family, Mom. Heaven forbid that someone is different or doesn't live the gospel the way you do. Heaven forbid if I am different. 

I love the gospel. I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Saints and I love it with all my heart. I believe in the teachings and principals and my Savior Jesus Christ and in Temples and ordinances and eternal families. I have a testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel and that Joseph Smith was a 14 year old farm boy with no real education and that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ appeared to him and that he translated The Book of Mormon. None of that has changed. Ever. 

But I don't believe that the only way to live the gospel is by wrapping yourself up in a bubble and just live the gospel in your own little world pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist. I don't believe that I have to shun anyone who isn't Mormon. Or straight. Or religious. Or have my same values. Or bright purple hair. Or hasn't gone on a mission. Or swears. Or wants to go to a school that isn't BYU for crying out loud! 

My whole life I've tried to fit who I am into the mold of who you have wished I would be. To the point where I refused to give up on sports even though I hated them because I know we are a "sports family". You both play basketball and volley ball and are so talented that way but I am not. never have been. never really enjoyed that. But theatre? I found theatre and I found a home. Mom, when you convinced me to audition for Wizard of Oz when I was 12, I don't think you had any idea how drastically that decision was going to alter my life. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you and Dad were surprised I stuck with it for the rest of...oh ya till today. I honestly don't think you thought about it that way. Growing up it always sort of felt like you thought it was just this "thing" that I did and that if you guys could make it or support me you would just "wait it out" till I got bored. Sports always came first. Financially. Time wise. Enthusiasm wise...because Whitney played basketball and she was on the High School team. 

Until her senior when she wasn't accepted back on to the team and she auditioned for Les Mis and got in. Then all of the sudden I had something to connect with her on and if finally seemed like a priority to you and I loved that the four of us had this thing to laugh and talk about. 

And then it was over. But you still cared that I was a part of it and suddenly you were much more involved and supportive and it was incredible to feel that and to have that in my life. 

But of course. There was a boy. There was ALWAYS a boy wasn't there? A boy that I shouldn't have liked or been with...a boy that I snuck around with and snuck out with or snuck in with or lied to you about or this or that or the other. And my teenage years became your living Hell. And sure. You were worried about me and you were upset that I was being a troublesome child. But you were also worried that the neighbors would find out or that your mothers would find out and then what? Your perfect lives would be shattered and you wouldn't be able to admit that your family was perfect. 

And things got worse. 
Oh they got waaaaay worse before they got sort of better didn't they? Because I couldn't talk to you anymore. I was a ghost living in my own house listening about how perfect my older sister was because she was at BYU-I and she had amazing friends and she was perfect this and perfect that and the comparisons never ended. And there was always the fight, mom, about why I never wore makeup. Since I was 13. There was always the comments about how much prettier I would be if I wore makeup or how much better I would look or how I should've have worn makeup to church because we bring our best to church. Never mind the fact that I had spent an hour trying to pick out an outfit because my self esteem was rock bottom and I couldn't find a damn thing that I felt good enough in. Never mind the fact that you never told me how beautiful I was unless I had put makeup on. Let me tell you how good that made me feel growing up, Mom. No wonder I got so attached to whatever boy I was dating at the time. But now we're off track aren't we? 

Where were we?
Oh ya, I was a ghost living in my own house beneath the shadow of my perfect sister Whitney. 

Not that it was her fault. I never felt resentment towards her. Not directly. It wasn't her fault that she was so much better at everything...

So I just sort of accepted it and went on living through High School with it while so many things went to crap and I never really told you about it because I found my own way to deal with things. Because I turned to self-harm and abuse and cutting and not eating and super detrimental spirals of depression and self-ridicule and endless weeks locked in my own head and when I thought I couldn't take it anymore I started to reach out to my friends one by one and I finally felt like I had someone I could trust. SomeoneS. 

And then my best friend told my High School drama teacher and he confronted me and ended up telling the school guidance counselor and eventually I told you. 

I told you first Dad. Sort of. You had sort of not had time to talk the first time I tried to bring it up. And then the next day you had been talking to a patient who had an experience with cancer somewhere in their life and had talked about not taking moments for granted and you felt bad that you had brushed me off or had a prompting to talk to me again or something and I found the courage all over again to tell. And then he went and got you, Mom, and then the three of us were sitting in your room. In the chairs we always found ourselves having little "chats" about how awful I was for sneaking out or breaking curfew or kissing boys. 

And in that room, in that chair, with every single one of my disappointments and faults and insecurities and downfalls starring me in the face, I told you. And then I changed into my shorts and I showed you. I had never been so vulnerable in my life and...and you're reactions were so different. Dad, you looked so sad and yet trying to hide your surprise. Mom, you looked...confused. and kind of disgusted? I didn't really know. 

I did know that I had just waltz into my how personal Hell with open arms because the next few weeks were...horrid. I couldn't get in a car without an interrogation starting. The looks were always measured and refined. I was almost alienated. Which makes NO SENSE! None whatsoever given the circumstances. And what was your solution? 

Throwing me into therapy. 
Which...I have sort of blocked all of that out of my  mind to be honest. I don't remember a whole lot but I do remember that we tried to get to the "source" of the problem. I remember sitting on that couch in the room with a million windows and sunlight just talking about my relationship with you, my parents. 

And as the weeks went on, that relationship changed. 
Dad: you tried to act normal, like nothing was happening. You still laughed with me and joked around and tried to make me feel...normal. But then your joking sort of became a front and I couldn't really talk to you about what was really happening in my therapy sessions and what I was really feeling. 
Mom: you just seemed angry at me. All the time. You seemed so upset that I would "dare" screw up your perfect facade of a perfect family. And not that you and I really had a lot of heart to heart conversations anyways, but all hope of that sort of died when you just pretended that I wasn't struggling until we got in the car to go to or from therapy. 

Eventually you guys asked me if I was feeling better and if I felt like I still needed to go to therapy and etc etc and I told you I was fine because I was so sick of the place my life was at and I wanted that chapter to just end. You had successfully guilted me out of my bad habits. But I had nothing to lean on or fill the hole we had just cut out from my life.  

You couldn't handle that point in my life any better than I could. You let me down when I needed you most. 

But you were all so excited when I pulled my life together and turned 18 and decided to date a perfect normal Mormon boy who was going on a mission. Even though I lost every friend I had ever made my senior year and just didn't tell you because why would you care... I was "perfect" again. And then I decided to go to SUU instead of BYU even though there were "people smoking on campus" and "people with bright green hair"...

And I moved away. 

AND 
my perfect sister went on a mission and sealed my fate. Because she was off fulfilling every dream and hope that you rightfully have for your children...
AND 
I was dealing with being so utterly alone I couldn't breath. 
BUT 
wasn't Whitney just so "amazing for serving a mission" even though "it's ok if you don't want to serve a mission Courtney, it's not for everyone but Whitney is just so incredible to go out and serve and she will be such an incredible missionary don't you think" etc etc. 
AND
I was desperately trying to feel like I belonged anywhere and the one place I could count on, the one home that had never left me made me feel like such an outsider that I started to doubt whether or not I was talented or really passionate about Theatre anymore. 
BUT 
Whitney was leaving and wasn't I just so proud of her and wasn't she just going to be perfect.
AND
I was terrified that the rival gang of an old boyfriend was stalking me in Cedar City. 
BUT 
did I "read Whitney's last email it was so fantastic!" 
AND
in the middle of it all, the only friend I had in my life left for his mission after spending 5 years being incredibly close while pretending not to have feelings for each other, 10 months dating and the last 3 months before he left, fighting and arguing, before I was suddenly and completely alone. 
BUT 
ya. Whitney is incredible. 
AND
guess what came back into my life to rear its' ugly head. 
AND
guess where I ended up. Again. 

Yep. Therapy. 

And so I spent another handful of months with sharp things hidden around my room and long walks late at night with my music turned up so loud in my headphones that I wouldn't have been able to hear a car honking at me and a stranger sitting across from me quoting scripture and talking to me like a child. 

But ya. Real effective thank you so much for your help. 

*The Point*

So in the midst of starting RENT and feeling like I was going to find a piece of me and trying to figure out what "aids" is in my life, I started to think that it was cutting. That it was the disease of self-abuse that has followed me around for years. I began to realize that I cannot give everything I have to RENT until I give in and really let myself be myself; let myself finally break out of whatever it is I'm trying to be for you and just be me. Which brought me right back to where I left off. 

*The Rant Begins Again*

Then I met Kollin. An incredible man with big dreams and a big heart. A man full of knowledge about the big wide world we lived in and yet he was a man who saw something in me: little, boring, confused, lost and scared me, that I had never seen before. A man who saw something and took a chance and convinced me to date him even though I was "waiting" for a missionary who had just left a month ago. And I found something in Kollin that I had been longing and hungering after for so long that I had almost forgotten what it felt like. 

I found joy. 

Kollin came into my life with one of the most welcoming and accepting smiles I had ever met. He came into my life with laughter and a wildness that I had missed. He came into my life with freedom and respect and love and understanding and courage and adventure and calm. He came into my life with everything I never knew I needed. He was real.  
And within 2 weeks I knew he was going to be mine and I was going to be his for the rest of our lives.

Which made you nervous because he is not like the rest of your family. He's big and tough and scary (his words not mine) and he accepts people of all backgrounds and he shoots guns and swears sometimes. He may not always be the "perfect Mormon gentleman", but he stands up for me and he stands beside me. He's there to whisper words of encouragement when I admit I'm having a rough week. He's there to love me tough (tough love) when I'm throwing a pity party or feeling bad about something you made me believe wasn't good enough. He's there to make dirty jokes when I need a good laugh. Or to remind me that it's ok to just chill sometimes and lay around and be lazy before I have to get back up and run a million miles an hour just to get half of the things done that day that needed to be accomplished.

Kollin became a brightness in my life that you tried to make me feel ashamed and embarrassed of because he didn't fit the life you wanted me to have. Because he wasn't a cookie-cut-Mormon boy. 

But for the first time in my life I didn't care what you thought. I was happy and in love and we were getting married. And you finally accepted that and I had your support again. And we planned a wedding in 3 months and I couldn't be happier. 

And then Whitney came home and I was happy for her to meet Kollin and to show off my ring. 

And Kollin and I got married and for once I had something that was mine. Something that made me shine and be important for once. 

And then Whitney married her perfect cookie-cut-Mormon boy 2 months after we got married and that just started a WHOLE new ball game didn't it. 

Kollin and I became old news. I was put on the shelf again and Whitney was the star of all your love and attention and pride because she fit the mold. And to make it even better: so did her husband. 

So Kollin and I are just here in Cedar City living our own lives. And for MONTHS I couldn't stand going home or seeing my side of the family because there was Whitney and Trent and they were perfect and everyone loved them but no one could seem to really accept Kollin and I. 

But Kollin, despite his personal feelings towards the situation, has always been able to find enough strength to help me find my own. He's always been able to rise to the occasion and help me remember that I don't have to be like Whitney and that I don't have to live up to expectations that I don't fit in to. 

And I'm finally beginning to heal. I'm finally beginning to accept that I will never fit into the expectations and the mold that you have wanted and hoped I would. I'm finally beginning to open my eyes and accept the fact that Whitney will always be your favorite and that it's ok. 

There are so many years of unpleasantness between you and I that it's almost impossible for me not to read into everything you say. It's almost impossible for me not to get upset and feel ostracized. Because when we come home to visit, I have to walk through that front door back into my childhood home and I walk through those halls that are painted in painful memories. Everywhere I look I have to push away the pain and the hate that filled this home because of me. I have to ignore all of the new rules you've put in place because of the mistakes I made. I have to shrug things off and laugh about things when my little brothers complain about something knowing full well that it's my fault they have to deal with it. And that sucks. I walk into that house and I walk through those halls filled with all the mistakes I made and all the moments that have made me who I am today and I see you, my parents...and every now and then I swear I see that look of disappointment flash behind your eyes; I swear I can hear that tone in your voice that I got so used to listening to when I was in trouble...the tone of not being good enough and of letting you down again. And it's funny, because if you asked me why I feel this way, or what EXACTLY it is that you have done to make it seem that way...I don't think I could tell you. Because it's little things...it's gestures and tone inflection and small random crap.

And I am getting so tired of feeling that way. 

I'm so sick and tired of being compared to Whitney and her husband; 
OF
being treated like the girl who snuck out and disappointed you every chance she had;
OF
feeling like a cast away; 
OF 
feeling like I have to be ashamed because I have a best friend who is gay and a best friend with bright purple hair and a best friend who has such bad anxiety sometimes that she stops eating for days at a time and 2 best friends who are dating and so happily together but aren't married yet and friends who come from SOOO many different life styles than me. I'm tired of feeling like I have to justify them to you. But you know what?! I love them. ALL of them. Just the way they are. And I wouldn't change a single freaking thing. 

Most of all though? I'm tired of being angry. 
At you. 
I'm sick of being bitter. All it does is get in the way of any sort of positive relationship we could possibly have in the future. I don't want to resent you anymore. Especially you, Mom. You guys are my parents and I want to love you and relate to you and enjoy the time we spend together. I want to be friends and I want my kids to love visiting their grandparents. I don't want my personal feelings to get in the way of that. I want to be close to you. I don't want to feel like an outsider when I come home. 

But I'm not going to pretend to be someone I'm not. Because I've spent my whole life doing that and it hasn't been very successful. 

So yes. 
You have a perfect daughter with a perfect husband who is studying to become an institute teacher. 
And yes. 
You have a daughter in RENT. 

We couldn't be on more opposite ends of the spectrum in your little world if we tried. But I wouldn't trade who I am becoming for anything in this whole world. 

*The Point*

Maybe this is what "aids" is to me...a past that I can't seem to shake and a relationship with my parents that is slowing killing me...

I am 21 years old. I am happily married to an incredible man and we are learning and growing together. We have our own lives. The teenager that snuck out and lied to your faces and hurt you  and disrespected you and let you down...she is gone. I learned what I needed to from her and I am trying really hard to move on. But I can't do that if, every time I go home, you are treating me like her. I have accepted the fact that I will always be the "black sheep" of our family. And by all means I am just fine with that. I really am. I've tried to apologize to you for the past, but maybe it wasn't good enough. I don't know. I do know that this road is going to be a long one because eventually I will actually have to find a way to tell you this in person. I will actually have to talk to you and we will actually have to have this conversation face to face. 

Which scares me to death. 

But I want to be me. Not some twisted, ashamed shadow version of me that I think you want me to be. 

So what does this all have to do with RENT? 

*The Real Point*

Rent is a show that requires everything I have. I can feel it tugging at me; calling to me. I have to give in to the free, wild nature of this show. And I want to. That's the kicker. Up to this point, I've been telling you that I can't "pick and choose what kinds of shows I'm a part of in college because I have to take what I can get". And sure, maybe that was true when I auditioned. But now? I realize that I want to do RENT with all my heart. This show sends life flying through my veins and makes me feel vibrant and real. It makes me feel like I have nothing to hide or be ashamed of because when you boil everything down we are all just people on this Earth trying to figure things out. We're all learning and growing and at different stages, sure. But we are all more alike than we are different. 

And that's a lesson I should've learned from you. 
But I didn't. 

So I re-invited you to come and see RENT when we were in St. George last weekend and I don't know if you're going to come. I told you that I honestly feel that this message needs to be shared and that I think you should see it at some point in your lives. I told you that I don't think you are ready for a show like RENT, but that if you were ever going to see it it should be this production of it. And I mean that. I meant it because I think you'll learn something from it and if nothing else, it might help you understand me better. 

And so I'm going to keep inviting you to the "edgy" shows I"m a part of. I'm going to invite you to any show I'm in if I feel the message is important to me. And I'm not going to make excuses about it anymore. I've been coasting for so long...in every aspect. And I'm done with that. There is a better version of me just waiting to be set free and I am going to find her. 

And maybe that's what "aids" is to me: a desire to be better and to become who I truly feel I am without losing the people I love...

I don't know yet. But I'm going to find out. 
And in order to do that, I have to let go and move on. Which means coming to terms with all of this and forgiving you. And myself.  

So. 

Here's to forgiveness;

To new beginnings;

To understanding;

To patience; 


To courage; 

To love; 


To a new me; 
And a new you. 

<3: CourtneyRae<3