Do you, um, by any chance, remember Tammy Thompson? Yeah. Isn’t she that terrible singer? Yeah. But in ninth grade, I thought that she sounded like Whitney goddamn Houston. I mean, the first time I saw her, oh my god, time slowed down. It was like a scene from a lame-o movie. You know, her hair blew in the wind, and she just looked perfect. So goddamn perfect. And, uh, it was right then and there that I knew she was the one. That with Tammy, I would finally be able to be myself, you know, all of myself. Because there was always this part of me that kind of scared me, you know? But I thought that if Tammy loved me, all of me, you know, I wouldn’t be so scared anymore. And then he showed up, Steve “The Hair” Harrington. Oh God. You can probably guess the rest. Tammy fell for him hard. and my entire fantasy life with her along with the rest of my life, pretty much imploded before my eyes. I mean, my grades plummeted. I got grounded. I had to stay home every weekend doing chores. But then one day, I was cleaning bat shit out of my parents’ garage, and I found this 8-millimeter film reel. You know? And it was just from this silly movie that I made in fourth grade, but I got it up on the projector, and all of a sudden, I was looking at this little version of myself. And that little me, I could hardly recognize her. You know, she was so carefree and, like, fearless. She just loved every part of herself. And that’s when it hit me. It was never about Tone-Deaf Tammy. It was always just about me. I was looking for answers in somebody else, but… I had all the answers. I just needed to stop being so goddamn scared. Scared of… who I really was. Once I did that, oh, I felt so free. It’s like I could fly, you know? Like, I could finally be…Rockin’ Robin. Yeah. Rockin’ Robin.
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