Bailey is Fourteen

When we were visiting Boston over the summer, we took a tour of the Paul Revere house.  As we entered the front gate, Bailey’s eyes widened and she gasped, “Wait…!  He was REAL?!?”  Matt, Parker, and I glanced at each other in confusion as she continued, “Even the big blue OX??
Oh, Bailey.  Ohhhhh Bailey, Bailey Bailey.

My precious girl, you are brilliant.  You are talented.  You emote on a level deeper far than most adults…but man, sometimes you’re dumb.  HA!  I’m absolutely teasing, of course, but I do find your random “knowledge gaps” incredibly hilarious.

Please don’t ever stop being my best friend.  We have watched 18 seasons of America’s Next Top Model together since March 2020.  We have swooned over gay men, belted the lyrics to off-Broadway musicals, indulged in “bed mac-and-cheese”, sweated in cramped dressing rooms, had markedly one-sided conversations about the Dream SMP, various British YouTubers, and fan-fic online-only graphic novels…I wonder if you have any idea how buoyant your company makes me.

Your star is rising. I can almost feel your pulse quicken as you consider the opportunities ahead of you in high school and beyond.  I just hope that you freaking go for it.  If you want to play bass in a band, perform the lead in a musical, write a novel, change the world…just do it.  Shrug off the anxiety, the self-consciousness, and the fear of imperfection that I have seen cloud your brow more often that I would like.  Don’t sweat the small stuff.  Even the stuff that feels huge and important – I promise you, it will all shrink with an astounding quickness as you move through life.  You know the things that truly matter, because they are the the things that you exemplify so well.
Kindness.  Compassion.  Empathy.  And the occasional massive brain fart.

I love you with all of my heart, my best friend.  My Bailey Boles.

(And no, that one state is not spelled “Mini-soda”)