Dear J.B.,

Is it ok if I call you J.B.? I’ve watched you go through puberty in front of my very eyes. That must be why I feel comfortable referring to you by your initials, J.B., even though your real name is Justin Drew Bieber.

As the voyeuristic world watches your tragic downward spiral that led to your recent DUI arrest, I’m sticking by your side, as any good mom would do with her own child. Some reporters speculate your bizarre behavior and verbal rampage with the cops might be a marketing scheme to change your pop star image to be the quintessential bad boy. Everyone has their opinion. But I think you’re crying out for help. Then again, I’m a mom. You’re following the same footsteps of so many other troubled young celebs—Miley Cyrus, Lindsay Lohan, Amanda Bynes to name a few in your generation.

I wonder what your mom is going through right now as her son’s smiling mug shot dominates the national news and gains more media coverage than the terrorist threats in the Sochi winter Olympics.

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