i blame elementary school for turning me into a perfectionist.
in fourth grade they told me to reach for the stars, so i did.
and when they told me to write down my goals for the future, i did.
i reached and i reached and i wrote
without ever realizing that reaching the stars wasn’t the problem.
the problem was figuring out what to do once i had them.
“reach for the stars” they said as they forgot to remind me about the footprints on the moon.
and my mom told me she would still be proud of me even if I chose to keep the stars.
but this never ending road of constellations is confusing and i keep getting lost
and I've never been good at listening to my mom.
it’s time to figure out what comes after the stars,
so i’m trading them in for the Moon.
and for a new name.
so i no longer have to be the girl whose name doesn’t look quite right in cursive,
i’m no longer the girl who hates her too big nose for her too round face,
the girl whose words are usually hidden behind her unwilling lips.
so let me start over.
nice to meet you,
i’m Avery Moon.
i’m in love with mountains that touch the sky and snow that never stops falling.
i crave silence that doesn’t need to be filled. and let me tell you,
i’ve been to Paris once before and it was just okay.
...but i came back and this time i’m here to stay,
because i figured Paris deserves a second chance.
don’t we all?
