Dear Adele

Dear Adele,

I love your music. And your raspy voice. And your cat eye makeup and fake eyelashes. I wish I had cat eye makeup and fake lashes. Then people would look at me and say things like, "my, she is exotic!"

But alas, this does not happen. And even if I were to have cat eye makeup and false lashes, people would probably say, "what's she doing in Indiana?"

I would also like to say that you inspire me. You're so young and accomplished. And you're proud of this! Instead of apologizing for your youth, you shout it from the rooftops. For example (I'm not quite sure why I'm providing you with this example, considering you're well aware ...), you title your albums after whatever age you happen to be while envisioning/writing/working on them. Your first album, 19, released when you were the very same age. And your second album, 21, released this past February. No doubt a nod to the truth that much of its conception happened in your twenty-first year.

But I worry, dear Adele, that you have not seen the big picture.

Because thirty years from now, do you really want to have an album titled 53?

Or perhaps I'm seeing this all wrong. Perhaps you'll be just as content with who you are even when your hair is less glossy, your skin less smooth and a simple smile produces wrinkles that mar your wonderful cat eyes.
If only we could all find such self-acceptance.

Best wishes,
Amanda Luedeke

P.s. If you would like to do a book, I just so happen to be in the market for a famous singer/songwriter.