Eddie Redmayne reminds me of everything that's bright and beautiful in this world.
And whenever I feel like I can't make it anymore, I sing One Day More from Les Mis. I try to remind myself that, if I can stay one more day, I'll have the chance to be like Jane Villanueva.
When you Google "feminism," the first thing that comes up is the definition. After that, a couple of articles about Emma Watson, and then a website called "feminism.org." You know what doesn't pop up? Man hating.
The truth is, you can take steps to start loving yourself more right now, and they don't involve stressing about whether you do or don't measure up to a set of (often unrealistic) cultural standards.
Albert and Ida remain the sole members of the entirety of my sexual experiences. I'm still unsure of where they stop and I begin. Had Ida been in my position I think she would have been more zen, but then again she is on Paxil, and she isn't real. She's just a girl on TV.
I want to experience joy and heartbreak and first times and new adventures. I want to fill my scrapbook with people I love, places I went and things I did. I want to live fully, sucking up every bit of life that I'm given.
At the beginning of the trip I looked at the itinerary with terror but by the end I was excited for each and every adventure. I found my inner adrenaline junkie, who came to realize that you don't have to go skydiving to feel a rush.
"But you look perfectly fine!" The problem is, we aren't "fine." The reason most people with chronic illnesses look "fine" is because approximately 96 percent of chronic illnesses are invisible.
But the reality is that emoji isn't just for family banter and sarcastic dialogue. Nor is it simply to be regarded as an amusing supplement to language. We teens are at the forefront of a generation that is living in the now.
We were moved by what Jacob's promposal represented and wanted to share their story with as many young people as possible so they know they're growing up in a more welcoming, less fearful world, filled with people of all backgrounds who support and love them.
We think to ourselves, "Wow that is horrible, but this could never happen to me," but it could. That horrible reality faced my family that dreadful January day.
When I was 13 years old, I went to a dance at our local teen center and I was so excited to have a good time. I had decided to just have fun, and yes, I danced. I danced until I overheard a bunch of guys laughing at me, saying, "What is Ally doing dancing, she's so fat!"
At the end of the day, the overwhelming emotion we were left with was hope. Hope for a future where all kids can grow up with the simple right to love whomever they love and have that love recognized.
So before you go to slather on Valencia, Sierra or Perpetua, just remember that the real you doesn't have some cookie cutter filter applied to it. You are fantastically "Normal."
College shouldn't cost that much. There is no justifiable reason as to why we have to pay that much money. None.
When I say "peer pressure," I can feel you mentally side-eyeing me, thinking, Kay, Mom, I'm pretty sure I learned how to say no when I was in diapers. I hear you! But peer pressure isn't always Creepy Guy Trying To Shove Cigarette In Your Face.
We high schoolers spend 40 hours a week at these institutions -- we ought to be learning about these things somewhere. School seems like the most logical place, but the bottom line is that I really wish I'd been taught the following things sometime in my adolescence.