Fool Me Once on Flickr.

Jess Godwin + My Tys - Something Else on Flickr.

Jess Godwin - Geppetto on Flickr.

Jess Godwin - Wallflower on Flickr.

Here’s the thing. I’m fortunate enough to be in contact with so many people through the wonders of the Internet. This could just be me, but the more time I spend online, the more I see it. Maybe it was always like this and I’m just more aware of it now, but on my instagram feed, friends post photos of their beautiful, unique bodies with the hashtags #fat #ana #killme. Two of these girls – best friends – both took their own lives in the same week. On twitter, kids reach out to me in direct messages asking for help. The fixer in me wants to fix it. All of it. But then I get into fixing/overstepping my boundaries mode – rapid-fire tweeting a girl out of a panic attack, sending unsolicited (and LONG) “inspirational” messages to kids on instagram, replying to particularly sad tweets with heart emojis…and I start to absorb the sadness. Sometimes, there are breakthroughs, but most of the time, I just walk away from my phone feeling frustrated that I can’t help everyone. With each failed attempt, I feel like I’m letting Matt Ryd down over and over again.

Cute guy. Clocking in well over six feet. Nerdy glasses. Chucks. Amazing songwriter. Geek aficionado. Extremely intelligent. Cat lover. One of the kindest people I have ever met. Years ago, he took me under his wing and encouraged me to pursue songwriting. He brought me to open mics, booked my first real gig, and started producing my music. We dated a bit. He was very open about his battle with anxiety, depression, and eating disorder. One day, I logged on to facebook to see dozens of people sharing a video he had posted, entitled, “Eating Disorder Awareness”. It was huge. What it did for other people fighting ED was huge. He just stood up and spoke his truth. Every time I check the growing comments on his YouTube channel, I know that he continues to make an impact today. A year and a half ago, Matt lost his battle with eating disorder, anxiety, and depression. He is so missed. He is so loved.

Time and time again, society has failed to approach the subject of mental illness with the empathy and understanding that it deserves. When I say society, I mean us. Me. When Matt told me he had an eating disorder, I did not try to understand where he was coming from. I got scared and broke up with him. Matt, if you are listening in right now, I am so sorry.

Lack of information breeds fear. Fear breeds hate. I certainly haven’t found the cure, but I definitely believe that honesty and empathy are definitely a big part of the solution.

If someone reaches out to you for help and you can’t fathom why he or she is feeling that way, try to put yourself in his or her shoes. Ask questions. Or just listen. Listening goes a long way.

If you are struggling right now, please please don’t leave it in your head. Write it down. Talk to someone. Ask for help. There are people – counselors, parents, doctors, friends – who WANT to help.

…and if you are reading this and happen to be teetering on the brink of a life-changing decision, I hope I’m not overstepping my boundaries when I say…I don’t know what your future holds, but I do know you will make a positive impact on others. This is what people do, right? You might smile at one person on a subway years from now, and that one person might absorb that smile and turn it into an act of kindness, and that act of kindness might evolve into something wonderful, and that something wonderful might save someone’s life…you just. never. know. I can’t make you do anything. The decision to heal, to put down the razor, to walk away, to eat, to love yourself…this all has to come from you and you alone.

Do you know the story of Geppetto? He made Pinocchio. He gave him legs, arms, a nose, and all the tools he needed to embark on his journey towards becoming a real boy. Pinocchio left him to make a series of bad decisions and huge mistakes…mistakes Pinocchio had to make in order to develop into a full-blown human. Meanwhile, Geppetto waited at home for his son’s return.

I have come into contact with hundreds of teachers in my lifetime. From moving to four different states between grades 6 and 9, to transferring schools, to attending numerous music and theater programs, to working at a college, I can tell you that Geppettos…true Geppettos, become emotionally invested in their students. They really care. They fill your head with as much wisdom as humanly possibly, give you the tools that you need to survive, and send you off into the world in hopes that you won’t get swallowed by a whale or outsmarted by foxes. More often than not, you don’t return. But they don’t begrudge you for it. They turn to the next Pinocchio and pass on their seemingly bottomless offering of knowledge and love.

I have returned to the major Geppettos in my life – or at least, I thought I did. When I, for some reason, thought that my attempts to “make it” in music and theater gave me free reign to aggressively spam everyone in my life, I would return to my high school, text my voice teacher, and visit my college professors and talk and talk and talk about me. Pass out flyers to my next show, expect them to share my videos…that stuff. I thought I was being such a grownup. In looking back, I realize that I was still being a Pinocchio. (Side bar – if you are currently reading this story in an email blast, please know that I get a stomachache every time I click “send” on one of these).  So consider this moment my decision to become a real boy. Girl. I can’t think of a better place to start than returning to my Geppettos and honoring them for everything they have done for me. I know I’m supposed to pick one person per chapter, but I wanted to talk about ALL of the teachers, directors, and mentors that I continue to look up to. I finally whittled the list down to five, but please know that this was incredibly difficult! In lieu of a service project this month, former fellow students/peers joined me in celebrating each of my mentors by taking them out to dinner. Thank you SO MUCH to Mary Kate, Allison, Fitz, TJ, Ryan, Neil, Leah, Derrick, Kevin, and Beth (Mom) for making each evening a success!

I continue to grow into the adult I want to be because of the tools that all of my teachers gave me years ago. If you are a teacher and worry about whether or not you are getting through and making a difference…you are. You do. So on behalf of all the Pinocchios out there, thank you.

JOAN DOWDLE, or “Coach” as I affectionately like to call her, helped me find my first bit of confidence in myself. The new girl, no friends, incredibly shy. In any previous school experience, I had been excluded and picked on. When I made the high school tennis team (and eventually became team captain 3 years later!), she made me feel like I belonged. Every time I visit her at Loyola, she still does!

JOHN KOMASA taught me how to find my voice. I suffered from vocal problems (I had a wide vibrato and had to go into vocal therapy in high school). He fixed me in the blink of an eye and taught me how to belt for the first time. I don’t know where I would be today if I couldn’t express myself through my voice. I have used his teaching technique to coach my own students for the past ten years. In addition to saving my voice, John also helped me put food on the table!

BILL WILLIAMS, my college theatre professor, made me realize how important it is for artists to support each other. Every semester, he asks his old students to come back and talk to his class about the real world. No matter where we are, what we are accomplishing, and whether or not we are in “in a show”, he always makes us feel important. When it’s easy to get caught up in expecting results and receiving accolades (that don’t always come!), Bill reminds us that true artistry is about the work. I always walk out of those talks with a renewed sense of pride and a kick in the butt to continue to push myself as an artist.

TONY ELFERS showed me how to be in a band. With his help, I learned about recording vocals, production, and writing harmonies. Most importantly, he showed me a great deal of wisdom and kindness when I was artistically lost. Tony simply told me to find what made me happy. He’s a killer dude. My old band and former manager joined me to celebrate Tony.  They’re such great guys, so I cooked everyone dinner and let them have a jam in my living room in lieu of going out. Tony, Fitz, and Ryan just formed a cover band, No Alternative.