"I noticed that one on your wrist, got any others?" he asked as he glanced towards my tattoo and back to the stop light ahead.

"I have a quote on my rib, but that's it so far," I replied.

"Why a quote?"

"Well..."

And with that, I found myself in a strange, new town explaining to a cute, new boy the details of my mental illness hospitalization.

It was the first time in a long while that I had gone on anything resembling a date with a guy who made me giggle like I was a kid. And with one honest answer to a question, I thought I had ruined it.

I could have made something up and lied. A quote in remembrance of a loved one who passed away. A quote my mom used to tell me when I was younger. A quote I got after a drunk night out.

Instead, I was completely honest. A quote that a good friend and I told each other during a rough couple months of our lives — one that serves as a constant reminder that even spending time in the hospital doesn't make me broken.

I expected no genuine answer from him. Who would be interested in a girl who admits she's got her rough edges a week after they meet?

All the magazines and articles say we are supposed to have our lives together to be attractive, be successful career wise, have a sense of fashion, know what we're doing with our lives, have a healthy lifestyle.

I don't have my shit together. I choke on my own spit, stutter when I think of things to say, and share very personal details of my life with boys I don't know very well.

But he surprised me. He didn't turn the car around or freeze up. Instead, he answered like he legitimately cared, telling me that he has friends who have experienced the same thing and asking sincere questions.

There I was in the car with a cute boy, opening up about everything from that night and the significance of the tattoo that followed.

I may not have my shit together, but all those magazines and articles are wrong. Honesty and being open should be just as attractive as being successful and being put together.

I shared a piece of me and it allowed me to get close to someone I probably wouldn't have gotten close to otherwise. So, screw faking like I'm perfect and sane. I would rather share the rough edges of my life and find someone who's interested in the real me.