Free True You by Janet Jackson Page B

become the principal of a high school or the president of a college. I get good grades in school, but I’m not sure I even want to be a teacher. I’m good at drawing and am thinking of being an illustrator. Dad doesn’t like that idea. If I date a boy my dad doesn’t think has a future, my future with that boy is over before it begins. Or if I do find someone I like who passes Dad’s test, next thing I know Dad is announcing that we’re moving to a new base.
    The strange part is that I actually like moving. It’s been amazing to live in these different countries and cities. I’ve learned a lot about people and culture. I realize that I’m lucky to have these experiences and try not to take them for granted. I know that they’ve helped shape my life in a good way. But I also realize that every time we move, I leave a little piece of myself behind. There’s a teacher I love that I’ll never see again. There’s a group of girls who were hard to get to know, and after getting to know them and forming a bond, I’m leaving. I’m always leaving and I’m always arriving and I’m always starting over again.
    The friends I get to take with me are your records and a few books by the writers that I like. That’s why I’m writing you. Whenever I move, I know I’ll gain something, but I also know that I’ll lose something as well. Do you use understand? I have a feeling you do.
    I do understand. Moving beyond my father’s reach was probably the most difficult thing I ever did. He had done so many good things for me. I also respected his discipline and sense of devotion to his children. Part of me didn’t want to move to Minneapolis to make this record. But a stronger part of me—the part of me that realized I had to be my own person—managed to prevail. I thought I needed to take control.
    I had been making small steps toward my independence for a little while. I remember when I bought my first car. I really wanted a jeep, like my brother Randy. My parents, especially Mother,insisted that I get a Mercedes. They saw it as heavier and safer. I went along. I was grateful to be able to drive such a luxurious car, but the car didn’t fit who I was.
    There were many wonderful rules in my family that I appreciate more today than I did at the time. We were given a sense of responsibility. One of the rules was that you had to be eighteen to have a car and you had to buy your own. Many of the kids I went to school with were given Porsches, Mercedes, and BMWs at the age of sixteen, as soon as they were able to drive. Then and now, I’m grateful that my family instilled in me the desire to work for and earn what was mine. I admit that it sometimes makes it hard for me to receive gifts. I’m more comfortable giving than receiving.
    So much of my life is in my music and my videos. If you watch the long-form video of “Rhythm Nation,” you’ll see me getting out of a jeep and going to the club. That was actually my car at the time. By now I had sold the Mercedes and finally got the car that I truly wanted. I was in control.
    I remember driving with my brother Mike in his first car, a Rolls-Royce. Mike reminded me of the family rule and said I would want my own car and independence when I turned eighteen, so I should make sure I saved my money.
    My brother and I had a deep talk that day about a lot of serious subjects, and he gave me some advice. I wondered aloud when the world might end. Mike said we will never know when that day is coming and we should move ahead with our dreams and life goals. After that conversation with my brother, I knew that at some point I had to take control of my own life. That was a life-changing moment for me. I would have to be completely and totally responsible for me.
    Control
was the fulfillment of my very first dreams. I had finally achieved my independence. Years earlier I first heard the Time in concert. In the band were Jimmy Jam, Terry Lewis, Jellybean Johnson, Jesse Johnson, Morris Day,