To Grandma, for being my first editor and giving me the best writing advice I’ve ever received: “Christopher, I think you should wait until you’re done with elementary school before worrying about being a failed writer.

You’re not weak. Your life is not defined by a letter grade, a dress size, your sexuality or anything else. You have every chance at happiness. You were not meant to suffer. You are loved. Never, ever give up.

When people hurt you over and over, think of them like sand paper. They may scratch and hurt you a bit, but in the end, you end up polished and they end up useless.

I really think, without trying to give us credit that we don't deserve, I really feel like Kurt and Blaine are a modern version of Lucy and Ricky. Oh, I'm Lucy for sure.

I grew up doing musical theater.

The gay people I knew in real life were soft spoken and didn't want to call attention to themselves because they were terrified of exposing themselves, of people finding out that they're gay.

You're sad-looking," she said. "My grandson used to be such a happy boy. He used to write me stories. I remember the first story he ever wrote me, 'Once upon a time, there was a boy.' And that became 'Once upon a time there was a boy who wanted to fly.' And they kept getting better and better over time. I never found out if the boy got to fly." I gave her a small smile. If only she knew the boy's wings had been clipped.