Last night, that guy and I went to see our friend play in his jazz band. We were in this popular little pub hanging out with waffle fries and creaky wood.
The bathroom stalls of these places remind me of all the times the stall has spun around me as I stumbled to keep up with the stationary. I remember the times when I would look up at myself in the mirror and see my bloodshot eyes making me not as pretty as I hoped to be. I was a girl trying to blur out a world that moved in a pace I couldn’t find.
This is a memory for me, but still a reality for many.
When I was in the bathroom last night, I saw something on the stall that made me a little sad. There are so many people who just need to know that they are beautiful, that they are a part of something bigger. They need to be reassured that life won’t always eat them alive. There were messages like that written all over the stall walls. Broken reaching out to broken. Broken lifting up broken.
And here is one girl’s response to the message of love that she found in one of the dirtiest places…