“They got it wrong when they called it “the closet." This was a prison. Solitary confinement. I was locked inside, inside myself, dark and afraid and alone. (Chapter. 23)” — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share Image
I don't have alot of people to talk to. Not alot of people are worth my time. — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share Image
And it’s more. It’s about getting past that question of whats wrong with me, to knowing there’s nothing wrong, that you were born this… — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share Image
I'm scared. What will tomorrow bring? It has to be better than today. It has to. — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share Image
“During those times, they'd stand there watching me watching them. I'd pray, please. Put a pillow to my face. Clench a hand around my throat. Stab me. Shoot me. Put me out of everyone's misery. Why did you give birth to such a loser? Why didn't you admit I was hopeless and fat and stop trying to make me fit… — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share
I may be fat and ugly, but I'm not stupid. If anyone had ever gotten past my looks, they might've noticed I have a… — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share Image
Our eyes met across the crowded room, like in the movies, except we didn't share a knowing smile and race into each other's arms.… — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share Image
I want to tell them, "Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person. — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share Image
“Sometimes I felt as if there were no tomorrows, that everything, my whole life, was crammed into one long day. A continuos stretch of… — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share Image
