Like so many women my age (no I am not disclosing that information here), I spent my younger days consumed in agonizing adoration of you. You were the pinnacle of beauty, freedom, daisies and butterflies.
I shared every beautiful moment with you. I fell in love with your wide array of characters, from E.T.'s Gertie to Boys on the Side's Holly, and I fell in love with you.
I never missed a moment. My prized VHS, simply labeled Drew, was a vast collection of interviews from Barbara Walters to E! Hollywood Stories. A single image of you was enough to sale me any magazine. To this day I have a questionable amount or clippings of you stashed away in a secret place because I just can't bare to part with them.
I collected all things daisies and butterflies because everything you loved, I loved. I even had a best friend who emulated Courtney Love, with bleach blonde unwashed hair and enough eyeliner for to satisfy Robert Smith for an entire week. I thinned out my eyebrows. I covered myself, head to toe, in Jerome Russell glitter body spray (that is until my mother forbid me to wear it because for some reason, unbeknownst to me, she did not want her brown living room carpet to sparkle like the sun dancing upon the ocean). I chopped my hair off, bleached it blonde, and clipped a cute flower barrette in it.
Time marched on and you began to change. I changed, as well. I began to accept that I would never be you and I began to accept myself. You put on some weight, grew out your hair and your eyebrows began to fill back in. I put on some weight and grew out my own hair, but this is where you left me. I stood alone, watching as you pressed onward, aging with dignity and grace.
My eyebrows never filled back in. Day after day, for twenty years, I have spent the better part of my morning shaping, shading and drawing in my eyebrows to my best ability, (they don't teach you this stuff in Art School). Regretfully, the end result is always a different unique shape every day and to each brow.
Despite the pitiful state of my brows, I want you to know that I am grateful to you. Over the years you taught me many things. You taught me that beauty can take on all forms. Beauty does not always mean having a perfect body. Beauty does not always mean having eyebrows "on fleek" or having eyebrows at all. Beauty goes beyond all of that. Beauty is having confidence in who we are; as we are. Beauty is unique. Beauty is about embracing these things that make us insecure. Beauty is being able to stop crying over our imperfections and being able to laugh at ourselves.
I am grateful to you and I am happy for you. Your eyebrows are lovely, Drew. I hope you will think of me in the mornings when you have an extra half an hour of time to do things other than your eyebrows. Cherish them, for there are those of us who are without.