When I saw "Wonder Woman" in theaters last weekend, I found myself completely and emotionally overwhelmed. I just wasn't ready for it, for the way that it would make me feel.

It was amazing to see a woman starring in a film where she was a complete badass, fighting the evildoers and making the world a better place--all without having to sacrifice her femininity in order to be seen as important.

So I cried.

I cried the first time I saw Diana, played by Gal Gadot, training and fighting on the movie screen. There was a sense of immediate pride that filled me, a pride so overpowering that I couldn't help but let the tears fall. It was pretty shocking, really, seeing a woman that powerful onscreen--the best kind of shocking.

It didn't feel like a forced-feminist sort of powerfulness; she wasn't strong because she was a woman, but rather a strong person who happened to be a woman. That, to me, truly felt like immense progress.

As a woman who was so proud to see a fellow woman who was so strong, I cried tears of joy. And, as a woman who has been called "weak" many, many times in her life, I cried tears of hope.

I've been called weak by both adults and peers; no matter who calls me weak, it never feels anything less than a knife to the heart.

And here's the thing: I do appear weak. I am terrible at sports. I walk faster than I run.

Some days, I've slept more than I've been awake. I loathe trying new things. I'm overemotional and oversensitive.

But does that all really make me weak?

I've fought for my physical health. I've fought for my mental health. I won't back down from a challenge. I will give 110 percent to any cause I believe in.

I've made the Honor Roll. I've made the Dean's List. I've made myself into the person I knew I could be, and I know I can continue to grow.

And I think that all makes me pretty damn strong.

So I cried when I saw Diana, a fellow strong woman, fighting boldly on screen, because I knew that she had worked hard to be where she was that day--just like me.