Dear Taylor,

Hey girl!

How are you?

I came across a headline the other day about your wedding. Well, not really a headline. More like one of those articles that pops up in your feed that you can only read half before it asks you to subscribe for $3.99 a month. I didn’t get passed the paywall.

But what I gathered is: You're getting married in June; Your dream venue was booked on the date you wanted; You paid the couple who had reserved it to give up their date.

At least that's what I think it said or well what the publication wanted me to believe. I don't actually know because I didn't care enough to pay for the article.

I judged you BIG!

My first reaction was, "Wow. That's kind of obnoxious, elitist, self-absorbed" and I found myself getting angry and thinking too much about it. And that bugged me more.

The truth is I don't spend much time thinking about you, like ever. I like your music fine. If one of your songs comes on the radio, I leave it on. If it doesn't, I don't miss it. I couldn't name most of your songs if my life depended on it. I am not your target audience. But I can still see why people love you. And they really do love you. They would follow you into battle and probably elect your president if you ran. SWIFT 2028 perhaps?

Your fans LOVE you. Yes that’s in all CAPS. They LOVE you not just because of the blonde hair, long legs, red lipstick and fashion to match. 

You're talented. You write songs. You play instruments. You've spent years getting very, very good at something. I see all of that.

You worked hard. (But you were also lucky.)

You were talented. (But you also had resources.)

You were surrounded by those who believed in you and had the means to support your dreams.

FACTS.

There are probably thousands of girls who were just as talented as you at twelve years old. Maybe even more talented. But talent isn't enough when your parents are struggling to pay for groceries, rent, or the electric bill.

Talent needs money. It needs time. It needs someone in the background saying, "I got you."

And not all of us are born with silver spoons. Some aren't even born with plastic ones. Some of us eat with our hands.

Maybe that's what I was really reacting to when I read that story about your wedding.

Not the wedding venue. Not you. But the fact that there are people in this world who can want something and actually get it.

Because if the venue is booked, most people shrug and pick another venue. But when you're rich enough, famous enough, powerful enough, there is often another option. You can simply move the obstacle. It’s like the world molds around you.

I don't even know if I blame you for that.

Maybe that's the part that annoys me.

I'd love to sit here and say I would never do something like that. I'd love to believe that if I had unlimited money and influence I'd remain exactly the same person I am today. But how would I know? I've never been tested. It's easy to be principled when the opportunity never presents itself. Maybe I'd pay for the venue too. Maybe I'd tell myself everyone has a price and everybody wins. Maybe I'd call it being resourceful. Maybe I'd call it making a dream come true. Maybe I'd become the exact kind of person I currently think I'd never be.

Who knows?

What I do know is that whenever I find myself judging people, there's usually a little envy hiding somewhere nearby. Envy that you always get what you want, or well that’s what it feels like to me. Am I wrong?

I've spent a lot of my life wondering whether wanting something was enough reason to pursue it. That's a very different way to move through the world.

Anyway, congratulations on the wedding. Assuming the article wasn't complete nonsense. And if you did buy someone's wedding date, I hope you at least paid them enough that they were excited about it.

With love,

Someone

Dear Will,

This might surprise you. I think I have fallen in love with you. You are probably shocked to hear this, but let me explain.

Don’t worry, it is not a creepy sort of love or infatuation, and I am not going to show up at your door in the middle of the night. I will stay in my lane and you in yours.

Yesterday was a challenging Wednesday afternoon. By 1PM I wanted a “do over day”, to run back into bed and forget about all of the overwhelming things happening around me: politics and division; the pressures of life; work deadlines; my parents visibly ageing daily; family tensions; financial concerns; short, middle and long terms plans; and, oh my gawd laundry. By 1:30PM the overwhelm was absolutely paralyzing. And so I just stopped and turned off for the day, ignoring the adulting that had to get done. I watched one of your films. I won’t tell you which one. You made me so happy for just about 120minutes and during that time, the world around me went quiet—the noise, the demons, the doubt, the endless list of things I had to do, and the anxiety that comes with actually having to do them, it all just faded. And that’s just why I love you.

I’ve fallen for your unconventional leading-man looks, your absurd deadpan expressions, your famously loose-limbed build, but mostly for the way you made my world feel lighter and more manageable, even if it was just for an afternoon. You’re consistent in that way. You show up. You don’t let me down. And on Wednesday afternoon at 1:30PM that was exactly what I needed.

But I wonder what that costs you.

Is it a heavy burden to always be the reliably funny one in this very one-sided relationship that you and I have? I give you nothing but you give all of us something. That something is light and airy and happy and hopeful and touching and like I said before, consistent. No one ever says, “There goes Will Ferrell bringing everyone down again.” If this was a real relationship, I would be the toxic one, the taker. How does it feel to be the one who makes everyone’s noise disappear with over-the-top facial expressions, strange voices, awkward clothes, and a whole lot of cringe? Do you carry your own noise, your own demons, your own doubt, your own endless to-do lists and the anxiety that comes with them, and still have to hold it together for people like me? Is it worth it? What’s it like, really?

I can’t imagine you live your life as wide-eyed and elated as the sunny characters you play. I can’t imagine it’s all sunshine and smiles. I have to believe that you have dark days too, days where you wonder what the point even is—where you too find solace in the 120 minutes of a film on a random Wednesday afternoon.

Do you ever cry? I feel like I almost need to know that you do.

Because I don’t know how to reconcile the version of you that brings so much joy with the reality that no one can feel that way all the time. Maybe that’s jealousy. Maybe it’s love. Maybe those are closer than I want to admit.

It pains me to think that you might have to hide behind your own humor, for me, for all of us really. But I like to think, that maybe, you know what it is like to want a “do over day” at 1PM, on a random Wednesday afternoon and that’s why you do what you do for me, for all of us.

No need to respond as I know you are busy bringing joy. Thank you.

from someone

#willferrell #dearfamous