I wish I could go back and tell my sixth-grade self what Champion is today. Almost 10 years later, I never would’ve thought that rocking Champion would be an aesthetic fashion statement. Now, looking back, I shake my head at what Champion used to represent for me.
I’m 21, and I’m not ashamed to say that I still read YA.
It’s just something about the wide-eyed optimism of finding “the one” in high school or the triumphant stories of overcoming hallway bullies that still resonate with me. Reading YA allows me to not think about the crippling student loan debt or the looming apprehension that comes with graduating college this year. Instead, I dive into the (somehow) eventful life of a teenager and hope that one day my daughter will find a man like Augustus Waters. No exceptions.
When I first heard Ariana Grande’s "Thank U, Next"I teared up. It wasn’t her paying homage to Mac Miller or her optimistic outlook on marriage that caused the waterworks. Instead it was the lines, “But this one gonn' last. 'Cause her name is Ari. And I'm so good with that.”
About two weeks ago, I found out through Instagram that a friend had committed suicide.
I was in Orlando, at Universal Studios, a place where families were laughing. Lights flashed. Kids screamed. Fireworks burst in the air. How could they all be so joyous during a time like this? I walked around the theme park in a daze. I’d felt as if I was watching the world spin around me through a looking glass. My mind and heart had become numb.
In 2016, when Donald J. Trump was first elected, a wave of white-hot fear washed over me. It was a feeling I've never felt before. And pray to never feel again.