top of page
Writer's pictureLauren Harvey

Open Letter to Frozen Yogurt

Dear Frozen Yogurt,


You have played a major role in my life since I was about eight years old. Finishing long nights of rehearsals for shows at the community theater, I would stop by the local frozen yogurt store to get flavors ranging from chocolate & vanilla swirl to cheesecake. Piling on a range of toppings, I would rush to the cash register to get my cup weighted so my mother could pay. Then, in the fluorescent lighting and my less than perfect stage makeup, I would treat myself to the cool, sweet taste of frozen yogurt.


As I got older, you began to play an even bigger role in my life. Going into high school with nothing but a love for English and a vast interest in the unknown, I found myself buried in the depths of the philosophical. And along with this new love of knowledge came a new understanding of you, as I came to appreciate all that you represent in the world.


We seem to live in a world where we think everything is greater than it is really is. We are told that if we have the newest clothes, the best grades, or the most money we will be happy. Yes, when we first obtain these honors and objects alike, we feel a rush of adrenaline, a feeling as if we can do and accomplish anything. But fluorescent lights flicker out, and so too does this feeling.


Eventually, we come to the realization that we live in the midst of mediocrity. In the matters of heaven and hell, we are laying somewhere in the in-between. Life isn't necessarily perfect, but let's be honest, it could be a lot worse.


And it is this fascination with the mediocrity, the middle ground, that has warped my world view, causing me to see life through the lens of practicality rather than pure optimism or pessimism. I used to rush to get my frozen yogurt so that I could inhale it and pretend that I wasn't tired and that my feet didn't hurt. I tried to escape reality with my rainbow swirl and maybe a few animal cookies. But no amount of calories I consumed could ever truly satiate my soul.


When it comes down to it, you will never be ice cream. You will never have the same cool, creamy, sweet satisfaction that it inherently possesses. Much like life, we tend to make you seem better than you are, but we are all still secretly longing for ice cream (or, if we're lucky, gelato). But as I get older and come to accept the world in which we live, the more I don't seem to mind.


So, thank you, frozen yogurt. Thank you for being there when I need you and there when I don't. In my eyes, you are the greatest representation of what it means to be human.


Love,


Lauren



27 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Комментарии


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page