Fatma

Cherry Bomb. Chur Bum. Che-rr-y Bo-mb. I love the way the title of Tyler the Creators’s fourth album rolls off of my tongue. I’ve listened to most of the songs, but I still haven’t bought it yet. This is due to the fact that although my sister is fairly chill with explicit content, she was very passionate about me not listening to this album. But I guess she has realized that I have already listened to 90 percent of the songs, and that I’m becoming more mature.

I’m really glad that my sister is starting to trust me more. She is the only person who keeps me wanting to try harder in every situation that I’m in. She’s so dedicated. She’s giving me an hour math lessons after school, because I did really badly in my most recent math test. I’m so grateful to have her in my life. Plus, she showed me Seinfeld, which has to be one of the funniest shows I have ever seen. My sister understood how much I loved Tyler’s album—she even gave me her poster. Posters mean a lot to me because they make me feel close to the people I look up to. In my room I have a poster of Missy Elliott (the woman with my idea of ideal confidence in herself), Destiny’s Child (the true definition of survivors), Mac DeMarco (the reminder to be kind and relaxed) and now my new addition: the Cherry Bomb poster.

This poster reminds me that if I try hard enough, anything is possible. It is stored deep in my heart because I have spent most of my teenage life trying to prove to my parents that I can have a job that I love, and thanks to Rookie, they’re starting to be more supportive of my creative endeavours. The Cherry Bomb poster gives me hope in that I’ll be able to live my life as an adult with positivity and fun.

I think trying to take part in more of my hobbies—listening to and collecting music—has made me happier. Also, if you were wondering, the self-love journey is going well. I’m in the process of trying to forget the hate and prejudice that I have been programmed to feel towards myself as a Muslim and a person of color, and I’m trying to learn to love myself and my curly hair and my skin color and my culture that I was forced to forget because I had to assimilate into English culture. Things are going quite well for me at the moment. ♦