I’ve learned that I love hugging my grandma even though she’s shorter than me. 

I’ve learned that heartbreak sucks. 

I’ve learned to love the body I’ve been given because she wakes me up every day and fights off germs to protect me. She’s grown hips that didn’t exist a year ago that don’t fit in old jeans, but I love them — the hips, not the jeans. That’s okay. I can always get more. 

I’ve learned to paint my nails again. At-home gel manicures are my best friend.

I’ve learned to fight even when I’m scared, to stand behind others who are fighting for the same things I believe in. That love is really the catalyst in abolition.

I’ve learned to write poetry.

I’ve learned how to move out. I’ve learned how to fry rice. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t buy shitty toilet paper.

I’ve learned it’s important to reach out to those who love you and that you love. 

I’ve learned how to go back to therapy and trust that she’s there to help me. 

I’ve learned that I love dance parties by myself in my bedroom like I did when I was twelve. To dance like no one’s watching. Because no one is and that’s okay. 

I’ve learned a lot about mutual aid.

I’ve learned a lot of gospel lyrics, to appreciate the silence that comes with prayer.

I’ve learned to take my meds routinely. 

I’ve learned that my attention span is short, but that’s probably because of Zoom school. 

I’ve learned absolutely no TikTok dances but I’ve learned to be okay with my lack of rhythm. 

I’ve learned to appreciate each day I’m here because I have a lot to look forward to if I stay.