The distance between your thighs has nothing to do with your self worth

The degree to which your collar bones stick out has nothing to do with your beauty

The number of your ribs you can see has nothing to do with your strength

The appearance of your spine has nothing to do with your accomplishments

The pointedness of your shoulders has nothing to do with how lovable you are

You are more than your body and your bones are just bones, not accomplishments


The very first time I saw you Harry, I recognized you immediately. Not by your scar, by your eyes. They’re your mother: Lily’s. Yes, I knew her. She was there for me at a time when no one else was. Not only was she a singularly gifted witch, she was also an uncommonly kind woman. She had a way of seeing beauty in others, even, and perhaps most especially, when that person couldn’t see it in themselves. Your father, James, however, had a certain, shall we say, talent for trouble. A talent, rumor has it, he passed onto you. You’re more like them then you know, Harry. In time you’ll come to see just how much. ”




Today, I read an article about a woman with HIV who was raped. The man that attacked her is now HIV positive. All of the commentary surround this was about how she should have told him she was HIV+ and that women with HIV should have a badge or special…