This has been said a billion and one times but I don’t think anyone’s going to really start listening until we’re all screaming it at the top of our lungs. Lately I just want to grab all of you up in my arms and shake you and tell you that every single inch of you is beautiful and so fucking what if society tells you that you could stand to lose a few pounds, that your nose is too wide, your lips too thin, that freckles are out and your eyes are too brown? Society doesn’t love you. It doesn’t know what love is and it certainly doesn’t know what it means to be beautiful. And no, not glossy-magazine beautiful. That isn’t beauty. That’s horror. Stop. Stop pulling at the baby fat on your stomach, stop pinching your thighs, get your hands away from your eyes because you’re fucking sixteen and you shouldn’t even know about crow’s feet yet, please eat if you’re hungry and no, high school doesn’t matter in terms of how people see you because you’re all young and hormonal and you don’t know about the world until it sinks its teeth into you. Because even if you’re ten, even if you’re fifty, you’re all so goddamn beautiful and it’s like the world is tip toeing around it like it’s a secret because nobody wants anyone else to know about it. You’re all going to be loved and you’re going to be loved hard and you just have to be patient and for now just be happy with the breath in your lungs. Because who finds their soul mate at fifteen? No, unfortunately, your life isn’t a bestselling novel and it’s not an Academy-Award winning movie. It’s not even the song you hum to yourself out of habit when you’re by yourself in public and you’re terrified that everyone can tell how lonely you are just by looking at you. But it’s beautiful all the same because your life is your own and it’s real and it’s tangible and you can reach out and make things happen if you really wanted to. And you want to, don’t you? Because there are seven billion people on this planet and yes, really, someone loves you, even if they don’t know it yet, even if you haven’t even met. Someone looks at the same moon, the same sun, the same sky as you do and they think about you and they hope they’ll find you soon. How could they not, when you’ve got stardust running through your veins?