I’m Begging You To Look At This.

Notes to Thirteen Year Old Girls

When your best friend tells you all she had for breakfast Was a packet of Splenda and a Diet Coke, And she tells you that she’ll stop after she loses five more pounds, Do not believe her. Tell her mother. It does not matter how angry your friend gets. The pain of that will always be preferable to the pain Of seeing your best friend in four years Weighing as much as she does now Half-dead in the hospital.

When your father sneaks into your bed in the dead of the night, And he tells you that this is how fathers love their daughters, Do not believe him. Tell your English teacher. She will have read millions of stories of girls like you. There is a one in six chance that she will be a girl like you. There is a five in six chance that she will know what to say to you. There is a six in six chance that she will help you.

When your veins whisper to you in the moonlight And say that there are so many nightmares inside you That could be free If you would just open your arms, Do not believe them. Tell your school’s guidance counselor, No matter how scared you are Because whispers are liars, And opening your arms will only open the passage For more nightmares to climb in.

And when the therapists say that you are better, Totally better, And you don’t need to worry about the sadness again, Do not believe them. Always be cautious, because sadness has a way Of sneaking up on you When you’re not looking. Be careful. Be careful.

“One of my earliest memories is sitting in a sand box and watching the other kids play. I could see their mouths moving but couldn’t hear what they were talking about. They seemed so happy. And I desperately wanted to participate. But my deafness kept me in a glass cage. I was never able to verbally speak. And whenever I tried to reach out, I’d be forgotten quickly. During recess I’d sit alone and read my books, because it hurt too much to look at the other kids. In high school I had an interpreter who predicted I’d never marry. She said that disabled people were too much of a burden for abled people. It was a casual remark for her, but I never forgot it. And the few flings I had as a teenager only reinforced that belief. None of the guys I dated learned sign language. They didn’t even try. I think they viewed dating a deaf girl as more of a novelty than anything. And every time it didn’t work out, I was left feeling lonelier. I went to college two hours away. Which wasn’t far, but it was far for me. And I first met Stuart in my education class. He tried to say ‘hello’ that very first day, but I accidentally ignored him. I think he figured out the reason once my interpreter showed up. But he kept smiling at me, and a few days later he slid me a photo with a note on the back and his email address. I spent a lot of time looking at that photo, waffling back and forth about whether I should contact him. But finally I decided there was nothing to lose. We began spending time together outside of class. We’d communicate by writing back and forth in a notebook. I learned all about his life. And he learned about mine. After a few months of this, I started to have hope, maybe he was actually interested in my thoughts. Maybe he liked me for me. One night we were watching a scary movie in my dorm room. We were writing back and forth, laughing at the cheesy scenes, when suddenly Stuart’s face grew serious. He wrote that he needed to tell me something. My heart sank.  I thought: This is where he tells me that I’m a lot of fun, but my deafness is a dealbreaker. But he looked me in the eyes, took a deep breath, and haltingly began to sign: ‘Will. You. Be. My. Girlfriend?’”

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I love this, it's adorable !!!!!!

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