The #YesAllWomen movement got me thinking. It’s shocking and awesome and awful and you should go check it out if you haven’t yet. I have had my share of harassment and sexism. You don’t get to age 24 as a blonde with DDs without plenty of that, I guess.

I realized it wasn’t until college that I was really aware or concerned about my looks. People told me I was pretty and boys were always interested, but I didn’t stress about my body or how I compared with other girls. Obviously, like any woman, I want to look nice and guys to think I’m “HOT.” But that didn’t make me feel good. That wasn’t what I worried about or hoped for. I have to thank my parents and leaders for this – they never emphasized physical features; it was always what you DID that mattered.

In 9th grade I was voted on the list of “Funniest” and that filled up my tank for months. I was the only girl in the Who’s Line Is It Anyway assembly and being on stage making my peers laugh was a feeling I’ll never forget.

One of my favorite things was when people realized I was smart – not just the goofball clown. Teachers, coaches, friends, their parents… I loved when people were surprised that I was in an AP class, I did homework on the bus, or my ACT score. I never played dumb. I never understood the appeal. I wanted everyone to know that I was no bimbo.

When The Beard and I were dating we went the whole month of February without seeing one another – his call. He was doing FAWM, or so he said. I think what he was actually doing was trying to distance himself (our last few talks of January got pretty deep and intimate for commitment-phobe Ryan) or figure out if I was crazy. We ended up still talking every day and then he called me to hang out on March 1st LOLZ.  I was super cautious, obviously, but we had a great time and carried on as though we hadn’t missed a beat. What he said to me in the car as he dropped me off still warms my heart tangibly every time I think of it:

You know, D? I’ve really missed your particular brand of optimism.

And for St. Patrick’s day the Social Committee at school had us fill out shamrocks for coworkers about why we were “lucky” to work with them. I received two, and both mentioned how positive I am in a world of negative teachers. (They obvs don’t follow my twitter #jrhighprobs LOL.) It makes me feel so warm to think people are affected by my optimism.

A few weeks ago someone said this to me and it was literally the best blog compliment I’ve ever gotten:

I love reading your blog. I can see your face as I read it.

I love when people love my blog. But even more than that I love when people love my WRITING. When I was in 4th grade I started writing a book and my teacher told me I could be a writer when I grew up. I don’t know where that stopped, or if it ever did, but whenever someone tells me I’m a good writer it just lifts me right off the ground.

I’m more than a little blonde with big boobs, though I love my body. You’re more than your appearance, too.

I’m more than a Junior High Teacher, though I am very proud of the work I do. You’re more than your job, too.

I’m more than that. You’re more than that too.

It helps me so much to remember that I’m more than the quick first impression people may get from me. Because honestly I’m not that great when you first meet me. Too loud. Weird eye. Stupid jokes.

You’re more than whatever people see on your Facebook profile. You’re more than the job you do. You’re more than what you see in the mirror.

We all are.