It stung. I had a deep yearning to be accepted, to feel like I belonged, to know that I was part of a family forever.
Tag: inspiration
repressed.
so, if something I post is about a high school experience and the next is about when I turned eight, know that I am a work in progress.
they bought me.
If I sit with this for too long, I get angry. It feels dehumanizing. Am I just a commodity for someone’s desires?
bad driver.
Sure enough, the side mirror slammed into the mailbox and immediately fell off it’s hinges. I hit the brakes and felt the rush of panic and remorse come over me.
a killer.
I fell to the ground in shock. My girlfriends and I stared at each other in horror and helplessness. What were we supposed to do now? How did this happen?
be proud.
The point is to be confident in who you are. Regardless of sex, gender, nationality, religion, culture, or whatever it may be that makes you, you.