Today, one of my students (that likes to pretend he hates me) told me he was creeping through my Instagram and saw my husband gripping my thigh, as well as images of my stretch marks. Though I was a bit taken aback to confront my social media presence in that capacity, it turned into a brief aside with some of my female students about body image.

A few weeks ago, a ring I wear led to a discussion on breast feeding: how it benefits the infant, can be a toiling journey, and its absence in the Black community. Just yesterday, the mention of AIDS in a book turned into a full out sex ed conversation.

While my grandma shutters at the thought of my students seeing some of the things I share, I nestle into that discomfort and know the dialogue it sparks is something I wish I could have had with an adult during my high school years.

So, should a student see this, know that I wrote it with you in mind. Because I'm a real person outside our classroom, and because I'm a real woman working through my own issues with body image. And just as much I see the real you, it's okay for you to see me too.