My dad bought me a book called, The Feelings Book. I had trouble expressing my feelings and emotions from a young age. Feeling emotion was not the issue. I just did not know how to manage the uncomfortable ones. I was the child who was, "overly emotional." I was, "too sensitive." I cried a lot. I was super shy. I hated my body. Kids hurt my feelings at school so I was homeschooled for several years. I just did not feel good enough. My dad would read this book to me often when I was seven or eight years old. Little did I know I would soon forget about this book... or that my dad gave it to me in the first place. Years later he brought up The Feelings Book and memories of how he used to read it to me – when I was at the darkest place of my life.

I remember the day my mom left. I was 16 and felt numb for a long time... until one day, my heart shattered into a million pieces. My emotions were now constantly so explosive. I felt so much and didn't know what to do with it. It was too painful. It was the first time I began the horrible, sad coping mechanism called self harm. My friends' moms were helping them shop for college – while I was at Bed Bath and Beyond doing it by myself all torn up inside. I was stuck at home fighting with my dad every night after school. I was floating and grasping for the love I so desperately wanted... for the situation I so desperately wanted. I was alone crying my eyes out and feeling the deepest sadness I had felt in my now seventeen years of life.

The first time I moved away from home in college: I was so excited to be on my own, away from all the heartache I had recently experienced. It felt like a restart. I could be selfish and focus on myself for awhile. I felt like I was leaving all the pain of my past behind me in a glass jar buried miles under the ground. My dad, brother, and grandmother helped me move in. I felt tense and emotional and happy all at the same time. I did not know my roommates at all. I remember that night sitting on the floor with one of my new roommates. We talked about watching Disney movies together. I felt a little less nervous – I could tell she was a little uneasy too. I did not feel alone anymore. We could get through this together, I could see it. Little did I know she would become my best friend. When I became sick a few years later, I would lose her faster than the first day we met.

Fear. Sadness. Frustration. I was feeling all of this at once and I didn't know how to compose myself. I was sick of the crying. I was sick of the breakdowns. I was sick of displaying how vulnerable I was. I was trying so hard to suck it in – like a vacuum which needs to be cleaned from all of the dust it has sucked up over a long period of time. The only thing I could do to keep myself from breaking down into a sob was to focus on the chewing gum I had in my mouth. I was in a car with lots of people – I had to suck it up until I got home. Deep breath in and out, I told myself over and over again. Then I heard a harsh voice, Can you stop chewing so loudly?! The one thing that was keeping me together and I was being judged for it. I thought I would lose it right there... but I did not. I made it all the way home in one piece.

It was a cold, snowy day. I get a text from my dad saying he is coming down to see me at school. This was his first time coming to my apartment since the first day I moved in two years before. I don't want him here because I don't feel well... but there is nothing I can do. He comes into my apartment. We go to my room which has become a complete mess and helps me clean everything up. Cleaning was such a chore to me these days... I was surprised the actual task was not as energy sucking as it appeared to be. We sit on my bed for awhile. At this point, I am in tears. He says to me, you are coming home tonight.

I did not think it was possible to feel alone and isolated in a large group of people until it happened to me. Lots of laughing. Lots of cameras. Lots of chattering throughout the room... people everywhere. Giggling. Loud noises. I looked around me. I never felt so small in my life. It was as if I was under a microscope. You don't work hard enough. You don't do enough. You are very selfish. You cry too much. You are incapable of being a leader in this prestigious group of individuals. You lost your chance. You are incredibly weak. Kill yourself.

Would you believe me if I told you I was bullied in college? Would you believe me if I told you it was so bad, to the point where it made me incredibly sick? If you were like most people in my life, you would say things like, Well, they were expressing their feelings and opinions which are just as valid as yours. You would say things like, They just spoke out of anger. They did not mean it. You would say things like, You should try and talk to them. Try and make things better with everyone. You would say things like, Well, you hurt their feelings. Maybe you should apologize. In other words, no matter what – everything is your fault. No matter what – it becomes your responsibility to suck it up. It becomes your responsibility to take all the beatings. No matter where I went in life, people taught me over and over again how my emotions made me a weak person and easy target.

For a long time, I treated my gift like a lion who forgot how powerful its roar can be. I had the most beautiful mane of golden hair, but let hunters cut it to shreds. I had a courageous, giving heart, but shared this gift with thieves. I was the fastest in the savannah, but let the cubs kick dirt in my face. I was the smartest of the animals, but let flamingos mock me. I let these forces do all of this to me and more. I let them rip up everything that made me beautiful – on the inside and out. I let them laugh at me. I let them push me. I let them hit me, to the point where I believed I needed to start hitting myself. To the point where I wanted to hit myself... hard.

No. Let the word sink in. Appreciate how the frequencies and syllable of this sound quickly fade into the atmosphere. Absorb it. There is a quote from Disney's Rapunzel which comforts me, "No. I WON'T stop. For every minute of the rest of my life, I will fight." If you have never seen Rapunzel, by the end of the movie, Rapunzel gains the strength to speak up for herself. Her 'mother' (which we find out in the movie is actually NOT her mother) was preventing Rapunzel from knowing she was the long lost princess. She was preventing Rapunzel from healing the sick with her magical, glowing hair. She was preventing the princess from finding her passions and purpose through manipulating fear and locking her in a tall, crazy castle. She was a bully masking as her number one supporter.

Like Rapunzel, I was given a powerful gift at such a young age but I did not know how to use it. I did not yet understand how my sensitivity to emotions helped me express music beautifully my entire life. I did not understand how it helped me empathize with other people. I did not realize the very thing which people bullied me for would lead me to my purpose.

Rapunzel's magical hair is a rare gift. She is the only one in the entire kingdom who possess it. She is different. Like Rapunzel, my gift is different too. When someone or something is different it can often scare other people. It can intimidate them. Make them think, Well why are they like that? Why are they not like me or anyone else I know? I believe in a lion's booming roar. I believe in quirky gifts like Rapunzel's hair. In other words, I believe in being unapologetically brave. Let people know are loud. Let people know you can heal people. DON'T let people take it away from you - or belittle what makes you so incredibly strong. In the past, I let my gift leave me empty handed. I let people take advantage of of me in incredibly hurtful ways. Look at Rapunzel's 'mother' - she locked Rapunzel up in a crazy castle for her ENTIRE childhood - so her 'mother' would NEVER EVER grow old. So that she would stay physically beautiful for the rest of her life by using Rapunzel's magical hair. Through bravery I have learned I don't need to give people that kind of control or power anymore. I have to be confident enough to reach into what makes me truly authentic. I have to let myself roar. I had to have the guts to roar in the direction I want to be heard.

Let yourself roar. Let others hear you. Don't bat an eye at the people who try and abuse your talents and potentials. Dare to be adventurous. Dare to close your eyes, jump off the mount, and dive into the cold, refreshing water below you have been trying to quench. By choosing to be brave, you will attract what you deserve. You will find your way and trot the trails which were made for you. It will reveal the lionhearts in your life. It will guide you through the murky forests. It will offer you charms and keepsakes to last a lifetime. By being brave - I found my lost and broken soul. Bravery helped me heal the broken sticky pieces. Bravery will save you. It saved my life. It set me free. I finally understood why my dad read me The Feelings Book as a child. He was rooting for me the entire time. He saw my potential and gifts. He wanted me to realize how powerful my gift was. A few months ago, I was cleaning out the basement at home. In the process, I found this beat up 90's copyright book in one of our bookshelves. It now sits in my room. It may have some wear and tear, but it has valuable lessons inside which took me my entire childhood to learn. Be brave.