Thought Catalog

Ari Eastman

real(ly not) chill lady. spoken word poet. mental health activist. mama shark. ✨ ✨ follow me on instagram for poetry and too many selfies.

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I looked over my shoulder and caught my reflection in the mirror. Was the freckled, petite goofball I saw staring back at me secretly a flirt? Had she been deceiving me this whole time? Was my lovable neurosis an act?

While my peers were up prank phone calling, nearly overdosing on Pixie sticks, and practicing the earliest form of flirting, TPing, I stayed up late watching Nora Ephron films.

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