Dear Evan Hansen

“The true me. What does that even mean? It sounds like one of those faux philosophical lines you’d hear in a black-and-white cologne commercial.” 

Evan desperately wants to be true to himself, but he struggles to understand what that really means. Like astrology and motivational quotes, which his mother loves, Evan sees this phrase—“the true me”—as devoid of any meaning.

“Sometimes these letters do the opposite of what they’re intended to do. They’re supposed to keep my glass half full, but they also remind me that I’m not like everyone else. No one else at my school has an assignment from their therapist. No one else even has a therapist, probably. They don’t snack on Ativan. They don’t shift and fidget when people come to close to them, or talk to them, or even look at them. And they definitely don’t make their mother’s eyes well up with tears when they’re just sitting there not doing anything.” 

Evan feels alone in his struggles with mental health. He doesn’t believe that any of his classmates feel the same way he does, even though that is far from the truth. Evan’s anxiety itself keeps him from forming bonds with his classmates that would help him feel less alone.

“When I walked on to the bus this morning everyone was either talking to their friends or staring down at their phones. What am I supposed to do?” 

Evan wants to connect with his classmates, but he believes they are already too absorbed in their own lives to pay attention to him.