The first time anyone ever told me I was beautiful, I was 19, and my self-esteem had just taken four months of even more battering than it was usually subjected to. It was in a dark passage, security lighting from the buildings outside only filtering in a little.  We stood there, about five of us, waiting for someone to lock the door to their office so we could all leave together. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I remember that his statement was unexpected.Read More →