my conversation with my childhood hero, Jim Carrey

When your childhood (and adulthood) hero responds to your tweet about his book—cue heart exploding.

jim carrey

When Dad was cooking meth in our garage and Mom was in prison and I was so fucking scared to be alone, it was Jim Carrey who got me through my lonely nights of fear-fueled insomnia. I’d watch his films on VHS and feel like I had a friend in the world. You could say Jim was kinda like my babysitter. Then Dad had a homeless friend of his who he used to sell drugs to move in with us and Don became my babysitter and my best friend. We’d stay up all night watching Jim Carrey movies and I no longer had to be alone. But then we got evicted and Don ended up living in some trailer in a desert canyon and I never heard from him again. Ugh, life. I went back to my nights alone immersed in Jim Carrey’s life-giving characters and my little world found comfort. So yeah, I know receiving a tweet is such a small thing, but for me it’s always been about the little things anyway. And in the complete shit storm that is 2020, I really needed this. Tiny wins. Big love. Thank you, Jim.

Fast forward three days later and Jim responds to my tweet, AGAIN. And this time it was with the most heartfelt message. ⁣

jim carrey

That last line, though. “Pain gives birth to compassionate souls.”

Jim Carrey always dropping the truth. Pain has played such a huge role in the narrative of my life yet it has brought me so many beautiful things. A compassionate soul. A big heart. And now this, a note of love from Jim fucking Carrey.

It just shows that good things can come out of bad situations. I wish I could go back in time and tell young Jessy with her forever bedhead, her tired eyes, and her sad heart that her hero would one day make her feel seen and heard. I’d tell her that it’s okay if you’re scared and your heart hurts because one day you’ll be able to use fear to fuel you and you’ll be able to share your pain to help others feel seen and heard. You’ll see. You’ll tell your story and you’ll find that you’ve never been alone, that there are people in the world who have a story much like yours.

You’ll see.

books, memoir, familyJessy EastonComment