Dear world,

     Hi, my name is J'Naia. I wanted to let you know that I love you. I love you all for who you are. Whether you're tall or short, skinny or chubby, male or female or even trans. You are beautiful, and whatever makes you different is the most beautiful part of you. Have you ever stopped to tell someone your story? What has happened to you or how you might have found out something about yourself? If you haven't, then I dare you to try and tell someone your story. Maybe you survived an accident that could've killed you. Go and talk to some high schools about it.  Or maybe you got a promotion that you've worked hard for. Go tell your family about it. Whatever your story is, go tell the world about it. That's what I'm about to do.

       Like I said before, I'm J'Naia. I currently live in New York state and I am still in high school. I could tell you about the things I want to do, but why do that when I can tell you about the things I am going through as a teenager and things I have gone through and figured out when I was younger. When I was younger I would use things that I learned to either get people in trouble or to help others. When I was in kindergarten I found out what the middle finger meant. The simple knowledge of what one finger meant got a kid in trouble. We were at lunch and I was sitting with a group of kids who were considered cool. At a table across from us was a group of kids, most of whom I think were boys. One kid in particular seemed like a good victim. I don't know what stuck out to me, but he seemed perfect. Maybe it was because of the way we were seated so that we were looking at each other. Anyway, I randomly just blurted out that he had stuck the middle finger up at me. Me and the group of girls I was sitting with told our teacher when she came to pick us up from the cafeteria. It was all a lie of

       While that had much to do with me as a little bit of a trouble making kindergartener, me as a confused sixth grader is maybe little bit better as it's not as embarrassing. In sixth grade I had a crush on this girl in my class. She was really pretty. Eventually I moved on. For privacy let's say her name was Melissa. Melissa was a directioner and we both obsessed over them every day. There wasn't a day when I didn't want to be with her. One day I wrote her a note asking her to go out with me. She declined politely and we remained friends. Over the next two years I found out I was bisexual. I hope that one day I can tell my parents.

Love,

TerryTheSkeloton