In a world where there are seven billion people, where do we fit in? Where does our one voice go?

You look around during the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, do you ever wonder what the story is of that one girl who is sitting at the local Starbucks alone, Or the girl who hides behind her smile. The one thing that living has taught me is that every one person has a different story. Each person has their own scars, their own memories, their own beauty. Why don't we take the time to see that more often.

No matter where you are in life, the highs, the lows, and the just blah moments, they make up your story. Like the time where you fell out of love with a boy you thought was going to be your forever, or the nights where you were little and went and watched the Christmas parade, or the moments where you are just at home with your closest friends bundled up by the fire. Every moment is a sentence written in and on your heart, creating your story. The love of your life, the fourth of July, the times you laughed so hard you cried. The first day of ballet, the hardships you faced, and all the memories you made along the way. A letter you wrote, a promise you broke,...knowing when to say yes and when to say no. It's the love you lost, and the love you made who has made you who you are today.

Even when you are in your lowest spots, you have people that will constantly pick you up off of the ground, and say, "Hey it's going to be okay." Those people are the characters in your life that will laugh, cry and piss you off every. single. day. But they're your people, you couldn't do it without them.

As Harper Lee would say, "You never truly understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it." So next time you are quick to judge the girl that may have some ratty clothes, take a second and think, where is she at in her story? Maybe she's at the beginning of her dream, some may need some more help than others. Some dreams have wings and some are torn at the seams and some just sit there on the shelf. If you were to walk, in her shoes, you'd see that we were all the same, so find the love inside yourself, and write your story to tell.