Rewind 20 years.
If someone was to ask me “How do you imagine life in 2017?”- my answer would probably consist of something along the lines of flying cars and trips to the moon first class.
Fast forward 20 years.
2017 consists of a generation filled with insecure women who have completely lost their sense of identity.
I hate needles. Maybe despise is a better word.
The bigger the needle, the bigger the panic attack.
But the day came when I had to go to the ER.
Dehydration got the best of me and the nurses decided to stick me with a needle the size of a ruler called an IV.
I cringed. I begged. I cried.
I wanted this thing off of me.
Little did I know the very thing that was hurting me, served to make her stronger.