Dear Indifferent American Teen,
Struggling to get up. Lacking motivation. Scrolling for hours. Feeling like a failure. Looking to your elders. Regretting your short life. You fight a battle too. I feel you.
You Indifferent American Teen.
You say “I don’t care”. Your shrug and your smirk confirm it.
But your “I don’t cares” are your cries for help. Your cries tell me that you do care.
You care until your insides ache and you can barely swallow your pride. You care until your face blemishes and your eyes are forced to turn aside. You care and you care and you care until all you care about is yourself. And that kills you the most.
Indifference is the mask you have been taught to wear. Only this type of mask doesn’t protect you. It pulls you back. It holds you captive. You are stuck in a web of lies.
I think you care. People say you don’t, but I know you. I am you. I feel you.
I think you care the most.
Every time your heart breaks, you must evaluate how someone will react. Will you lose a friend? Will you be cancelled? Will life ever be the same?
Every time a new issue pops up, it feels too far away to be real. Yet you don’t want to be left behind. But grasping in the dark for something steady to support you is an endless battle that will tear you apart until you become as empty as your spirit after a tough night.
You are in a sea of emotions. You are drowning and the only thing you can use as a lifesaver is indifference.
Indifference makes you sarcastic and pathetic. Indifference makes you hard and distant. Indifference makes you laugh when you know it stings the soul of a fellow human being who stares at you until the laughter dissolves into a tidal wave of tears.
Indifference is the deepest feeling of all.
You have been hurt. Your wounds are deep. But you can’t blame a war or a movement or a lack of knowledge. Instead, you blame yourself.
But you don’t want to be weak. You are supposed to be strong. Strong and independent. Proving your worth. That’s who you are. You can’t change. That’s what they say, anyway.
Even though you’re young with a full life ahead of you. Even though you’re bright and you aren’t your parents. Even though you’re special and precious and loved. Even though all these things…who are you?
I’m sitting beside you. I won’t tell you to cry or to feel or to trust me. Trust, that’s something in short supply. What I’ll tell you is this: You aren’t alone. Staring out at the starry night sky, there is someone–thousands of someones–who are just like you. And they don’t know who that person is either.
I don’t know you. Maybe you don’t want me to. Maybe the only thing keeping you going is keeping your identity a mystery. All yours, no one else’s.
Sorry to burst your bubble, but someone does know you. Someone cares about you. That Someone wants you. Needs you. Trusts you. Values you.
That Someone will love you the way your heart longs to be loved as your eyes linger a little too long on the one that broke your heart. It wasn’t their love that you needed. It was Someone’s.
I’ll venture to say, it was God’s.
So when you feel indifferent, tell Someone that. Tell Him and wait. You might just get a feeling.
I know I did.
Sincerely,
Your Fellow American Teen, who isn’t so indifferent anymore
The Will to Wake Up 