The best feeling in the world is:
Getting over your crush!!! Oh my gosh! I just feel so much better! I’m so free now!
I’m not going to lie, but I’m still self conscious around him. That’ll wear off eventually.
*names have been changed.
So recently I just got over a crush. My ex crush name is Adam. I met him in my Geometry class at the beginning of the school year. We sat right across from each other. Also I came back from this summer program, and I became nice and social. I usually never start conversations. This is how we met:
ME: Hello! I like your backpack! (smiling)
(ADAM had a brown leather book bag)
ADAM: Thanks, my mom got it for me…
ME: Oh. Cool. (I nod my head and it got awkward)
As time went on we interacted with each other either about math homework or small talk. Geometry was one of my coldest classes, so I always wore sweaters.
ADAM: You wear sweaters a lot.
ME: (chuckles) Oh.
ADAM: Yeah, do have like a closet full of sweaters?
ME: Um, no. (laughs)
I started developing a crush on Adam. It wasn’t big just small. Then when my math teacher moved our seats, my crush became bigger…
In January, people started getting ready for the second school dance. It was called Turnabout. The girl would ask the guy. I decided I would ask Adam. I was telling my friends and stuff. I was too excited and scared. I was scared because I was afraid of what he was going to say. My friends kept telling me that the worst he can say was no. I understood that, but Adam he was kind of on the rude side. (When I first met him, he was chill and nice. Then, I guess once he got comfortable with people he showed his mean side. He was never mean to me though. I just had to put that out there). Long story short, I didn’t ask him. I ended up not going to Turnabout. I didn’t want to go with friends because I know I would be third wheeling, and that’s not cool. But this is not about Turnabout, this is about my ex crush. So anyway after Turnabout happened I kind of stopped liking him. I actually didn’t want to like him anymore.
With the help of himself, it was easy to get over him. I figured out how irritating and mean he was. He would just yell at this boy and be mean to him for no reason. I wanted to tell Adam to shut the hell up. (But I’m not that type of person, I’m too classy to say that). He would get so angry and do stupid crap.
I don’t know why I wanted to tell you guys this…
BUT THANK GOD I’M OVER HIM!!!!!!! I’m so glad I didn’t ask him to Turnabout.
WARNING: If you are a male this might make you uncomfortable!
What am I doing wrong??? I’m a good kid. I get average grades, I don’t do drugs or party. I read my Bible. I believe in God. I have lots of things to say, but it’ll come out rude so that’s why I’m writing this letter. Okay. Here I go. Will you please stop belittling me? Yes, I know I’m fifteen, but what does that have to do with what you are talking about. I understand what you are saying. I understand what’s going on. Mom, can you please give me a little freedom? I feel like I’m living in a box and I can’t get out. That’s why I do little things to make me feel free. Like dying the ends of my hair or not wearing bras. Speaking of bras… Mom, one of the reasons why I stopped wearing bras was because you’d always get me the wrong size… Yeah. I l know you get really upset that I don’t wear them. Instead of getting mad, can you please give me a reason why I can’t wear them. I know how to cover everything up without using a bra. (Side note: Today my mom was talking to me and she was like: “Hannah, I always tell you to wear a bra, but you never listen to me.” She was so mad! It’s just a bra. Then she whooped me for wearing a tank top with no bra on at home. Seriously). Another reason why I don’t wear them is because I don’t want my boobs to be saggy! (Sorry guys). Mom I feel like every little thing I do, you get angry. Why can’t you be more supportive? Also can you give me a reason why I can’t do certain things, instead of forcing me not to do them. Can you please stop saying you’re going to do something, but never do it? I asked for ballet lessons for a whole year. A whole year! You’d keep saying, okay. But it never happened. Then you started to get annoyed that I was asking. I feel controlled. I know you are my mom and you are supposed to be a little controlling. But why do I have to feel this way, like I’m constrained. Sometimes I feel like you are Margaret White in Carrie and I’m Carrie. (Not crazy, though. We’re pretty sane). I just want some freedom, mom. That’s all I want… You are a good mother, though. You take care of me when I’m sick, you take me to school. You did other good stuff that makes me love you. I do know sometimes I can be a little disrespectful, but honestly I have been working on that and I think I’ve gotten better. So yeah… I love you and I just wanted to be honest.
Hannah M. Leonard
I’m sad. I’m really sad… I’m sad, because I only have a page and a half left in my journal. I have had this journal since 2011. I’ve had it for four friggin years. Now I’m almost done with it. Why? WHY does this journey have to come to an end. I guess this is my goodbye letter to my journal…
Dear journal, hmm… Where do I begin. When I first saw you on March 25, 2011, I fell in love with you. You were the only thing I could write in when I didn’t have someone to talk to. By writing in you, I grew. I don’t know what I grew into, but I know it was into something good. It’s really hard to say goodbye. Just to let you know, um I already replaced you. Yeah, my sister got me a new journal for Christmas… But I will write in those last pages before the year ends. I love you and goodbye…
Hannah M. Leonard
From old to new. Time to start a new journey.
My friends and I had just taken some pictures. We were looking through the photos and talking about them. My friend Joe* said: “Wow Hannah, your collarbones are so deep. Are you anorexic?” I knew he was joking, but instead I said: “I know, I’m so skinny.” I was half joking. (After that I noticed Joe* was more careful with his words or jokes when he talked to me). I never really thought about my collarbones, before. It was one of those body parts I thought people didn’t pay attention to. I felt a little insecure at that moment. I felt insecure about my collarbones. I didn’t know I was that skinny. But 2 hours later I was fine. I actually learned to appreciate my collarbones in those 2 hours. People contour their chest with make-up just to have “collarbones.” And the collarbone thing actually runs in my family. I started saying out loud that same day that I love my collarbones. I wanted Joe* to hear. But he didn’t. I wanted him to know that what he said did not affect me in negative way, but in a positive way. Thanks Joe* for letting me love myself and my body in 2 hours.
Girls and boys appreciate your body. You are gorgeous! Who cares what other people say. You were carved into the image of Christ Jesus. Love yourself and your body. Because God loves it too.
Do you see my collarbones? Aren’t they so deep and beautiful?
* Joe is a pseudonym. Fuck it, his name was Will.
My brother and I made this video last summer. We didn’t go to church that day. So he made my sisters and I to write something and make a video about it. This is a little speech I wrote called: Made in His Image. Press the link below!