Which is why Jill is the “total bad ass rock star” in Collins’ actual book. She traveled the world with her mom, and credits her in Unfiltered for not only always being there for her, but for exposing her and her friends “to people from all walks of life,” encouraging them “to step outside our comfort zones and experience the unknown.”
They were so close, she explained, that she felt both inordinately excited to venture out on her own and a little guilty for leaving her mom (though when Lily first moved out she only went as far as down the street). But at the end of every day, Collins wrote, “She’s my best friend, inspiration, role model, confidante, and partner in crime.”
Meanwhile, her dad “may have still been alive, but most of the time it felt as if he were completely gone,” she wrote. Lily recalls being constantly worried about living up to his expectations, craving approval that he wasn’t there to give. Not being able to tell him how she felt only made her angrier, and she says it took about a decade before she drummed up the courage to speak her mind.
Not that having one huge talk solved everything (dads aren’t always the best listeners, she notes), and Collins wrote in a letter to her father included in the essay about him in the book, “I forgive the mistakes you made. And although it may seem like it’s too late, it’s not. There’s still so much time to move forward. And I want to. I’m inviting you to join me.”
So, the situation was far more complicated than Collins had been ready to share five years beforehand.