It Doesn’t Matter What You Think: An Open Letter to the Past Me

Dear Young Matt,

It doesn’t matter what you think.

I know that sounds incredibly negative, and at first glance, might make you more depressed than you already are, but by the end of this letter, You’ll see the positive in that statement and understand what I really mean. 

We don’t remember life when we were really young, so the only way of recalling the past when we were toddlers is to ask people who actually have the physical capability to remember it. Our family. I remember our mother telling me,  “you couldn’t walk or talk for a long time. It was concerning. Most kids your age could say some words, but you were mute. I took you to a doctor, but they didn’t see anything wrong, so we just let nature take its course. Then you finally talked, and you were a normal kid.”

That last statement is a fucking lie, and we both know it. I don’t lie, so I’ll be 100% honest with you. You’re not a normal kid, you’re the opposite. You’re talking, but not very well. You stutter, you can’t say any word with the letter r, and people can’t understand you. “What? Say that again? Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Huh?” Any word you said was followed up by someone saying one of those questions, but the worst one is when they try and get you to say the word with them. “No, it’s not chee, it’s tree. Say it with me, Trrrrrrrrrreeeeee.” It’s infuriating, right? Like, shut the fuck up! Do people actually think they have some magical fucking power to fix your speech impediment by sounding like an asshole and saying a word reaaaaaalllllly drawwnnnnnn out? You’re already going to speech therapy almost every damn day, you don’t need help from other people. 

But that’s me from a long time go. The me in the present, the one writing this, can talk normally. I have a really thick Staten Island accent, and that’s because I forced it upon myself so I can sound a bit normal and have people understand me. People constantly point it out (especially people not from New York), and that can get annoying, but it’s okay. I have thick skin. That’s why I said, “It doesn’t matter what you think,” and I know what you think. I’m a fucking idiot. I can’t even talk right. How can I get a job if people can’t understand me? People will understand you, and you’ll be happy soon enough. It doesn’t matter what you think. 

There was more to it than a speech impediment. How about the sensory issues? You can’t walk on grass without getting anxious. Some people put their hands on you, and although they don’t mean harm, it’s a horrible feeling. It feels like a monster, putting its claws on your skin. It makes your skin crawl and it hurts, and you flinch away when it gets close, but you can never get rid of it. You go to therapy for it, and it doesn’t feel like it’s working right now. You’re thinking,  I’m wasting my damn time. I should just accept the fact that I’m not a normal person and no one will feel affection for me and I should just accept it. You’re not wasting your damn time. I can walk wherever the fuck I want! I can handle people touching me. People have felt affection for me, and it’s amazing. You just have to be patient and not let negative thoughts infect your mind. It doesn’t matter what you think.

As you got older, there was never a moment where you weren’t having any problems. You’re a good student in school, but your social game is disastrous. You have friends, but are they really your friends? Or do they just show you pity because you still talk kind of funny? You can’t relate to anything they say, and your grades are impeccable compared to them. Combine that with the bullying, and you’re a mess. You told one person that you were bisexual and you were hurting yourself, but he outed you, and now everyone knows. People are giving you weird looks when you walk in the halls. One person in particular is calling you a faggot everyday, and he towers over you. He could fuck you up. What do you do? You deny it. “I’m not gay, and I’m not doing anything,” but that’s a lie, because you’re bisexual, and you can’t control your actions when you have such complicated and negative thoughts. 

Do you know what you’re going to do the first day of 8th grade? The kid that harassed you all of last year, the one responsible for spiraling you into a depression that would consume you for a long time? You’ll take his bag filled with all of his books, his jacket, and maybe his phone when he isn’t looking, and you’re gonna walk home with it. You throw it all in the sewer! It’s a shitty thing to do, but it makes you feel good. He deserved it, and it’s obvious he knows you did it. He’ll confront you, but you stand tall, and in that moment, you’re bigger than him. “Yeah. I did it. Do something.” You know what he’ll do? Nothing, because he’s all talk. And you graduate with your head held high, and a smile on your face. And those negative thoughts leave you, and they never truly come back. It doesn’t matter what you think. You stay alive. You win. 

To recap, you couldn’t talk, or walk, normally. You couldn’t be touched by other people without cringing. You were incredibly socially awkward. You were bullied every single day for being who you were, and had such horrible thoughts about ending your life and not being able to function in society, but just wait until you become me. These experiences hardened me, and made me the good, happy person I am today. I talk normally. I walk wherever I want to. People can show physical affection towards me. I can maintain a conversation. I have friends that truly care about me. I think positively, and let the world take me where it wants. 

Stop wasting your time thinking about negative things. Because, in the end, when you’re 18, writing an open letter for a college English class, and you have the idea of writing to yourself from the past, an idea will pop into your head:

It doesn’t matter what you think.