You’re right. As girls, we have it hard enough without adding competition and hatred and judgment to it. Why do we do that? How far back does this go?

I want change, too.

And, on this massive, monumental topic, I know I don’t have all the answers.

I can say that your story inspired me, and I hope it is inspiring every single reader out there who is with us now. Not just the girls but the boys, too. I want you to let these words sink in. Be better than the attacker. Inspire your friends to be better. If you see a frightened girl, help her, don’t look the other way.

As for you, I hope you speak in a public forum sometime. I would listen to you all day. And I would spread your words to anyone who would listen. I like your mission and I want to support it.

It’s hard to say exactly how to fight this battle on the bigger front, but I think a good start would be researching our politicians and their policies and find out who has the best one to support the change we want to see in our future. We’re about to be able to vote—if not already. Electing the right people is the first step in being heard on a major level.

As girls.

As women.

And on the smaller front, you’ve already inspired change. Because of your story and your honesty, you’ve posed a question that has desperately needed answering for too many decades too long. Why is it easier for us to tear each other down than it is to build each other up?

It starts with one woman—like yourself—and has now spread to me. I will make an effort to listen to those who I may have written off before.

Because you’re right. We’re females, and only we know what it’s like in today’s world.

It’s time to band together.

Thank you.

I hope you continue to be a force for change.

Please stay in touch.

In the meantime,

Stay Sexy. Stay Healthy.

…

The question of the day had nearly slayed me when I’d gotten home. The story had hit me right in the chest and there was no way I couldn’t post it.

Not when she’d been so brave.

So honest.

And beyond that, it was enlightening. Inspiring.

The hope and inspiration still warmed my chest as I shifted to continue digging through the site’s inbox.

I read the email three times in a row, certain it was some kind of sick joke. An angry parent with a fake email and a goal to hurt me—scare me into taking down the blog.