The sentiments in this article are nothing new, and the creators of this show have probably heard these words (in any number of assortments) multiple times since the show's finale. As much as I like to think that this show has extra special meaning to me that no one could possibly understand, I know that this simply isn't true.

All that being said, I can't even write these words without feeling a surge of emotion that I still do not have a word for, even after all this time. A feeling so strong that I know the reason this article took me so long to write; it's that I know I can't do my feelings justice.

Now, before you want to start passing judgement, I want to clarify: I am very aware that I am an adult, and I am also aware that, despite me feeling differently about it, that this is, at the end of the day, a television show.

But to me, and many others, it is way more than that.

As an adult, it's easier to appreciate a lot of what this show has to offer. I have the words (and platform) to articulate what I have to say. Though "Legend of Korra" has way more to it than it's endgame ship, the ending, where Korra and Asami walk hand and hand into the spirit world hits me harder than anything in any piece of media ever has, and probably ever will again.

Which is why I have no shame in loving it so much, even at my age. It hits me hard to see that this is the show I needed when I was younger.

For those of you who don't know, "Legend of Korra" is a spin-off of the popular Nickelodeon series, "Avatar: The Last Airbender." The show has gained notoriety in "pushing the boundaries of LGBT representation in children's television" by having a same-sex couple canonically be together.

I've talked about LGBT representation in past articles, but typical of me, I didn't get into specifics. As a rule, in arguing a position, I tend to follow the RuPaul philosophy of "your feelings are not fact." But it's clear to me that this show in particular has given me something that's special to me. And as I've been trying to learn lately, that getting personal about the things that matter to you isn't necessarily a bad thing.

This show means a lot to me for a number of reasons, as I've said. I am at a point in my life that is dominated by adult stress, and it's nice to have something to throw myself into. So on that level alone, I'm grateful. I'm grateful for the well-developed characters, the amazing fans and just everything that this show has to offer.

But most of all, I'm thankful for Korrasami.

Even though I'm at a point where I'm out and open about my sexuality, I can see the resonance this couple has, and I'd be flat out lying if I said that it didn't touch my heart. And this is difficult to do without getting a little personal.

Growing up as a queer child in a Catholic, conservative, southern setting was not an easy experience. There were many, many, many years of denial, self hatred and depression to accompany the build up to my coming out, and this isn't something I can look back on fondly by any stretch of the imagination.

Now that I'm past it, I can openly say I hated myself for being gay. I hated that I couldn't be "normal," I hated that God wouldn't let me wake up "normal," because as far as I understood, there was nothing OK about being gay.

LGBT representation in the media didn't have the demand it does today. (It very well might have in the macro-sense, but I was an isolated teenager. From where I was sitting, I didn't see it.) I was one of those kids who learned and explored my sexuality by wading through my awkward feelings while just wanting the feelings to stop, one way or another.

I basically saw my life as bleak, sad and hopeless. I knew forcing myself to be straight would make me unhappy; since I hadn't accepted that I was gay yet, I saw that as the worst thing I could do. It's no coincidence that my "scene" phase and this time coincided with each other. For me, everything was dark.

Besides the fact that I hardcore ship it, there is something important about what the creators of the show have done. Like I said, I'm not the only one who feels this way, but the fact that it was put out there says so much.

It's putting queer people in the mainstream, which, given the climate of media reception, I still consider to be very brave. It's setting precedent for future shows to step up to the plate and do the same. It's showing kids that same-sex love is okay.

That's why I feel as strongly about this as I do. Because that is something I needed so bad when I was younger.

I'm glad its out there now. I'm glad that these progressive steps are being taken so that other kids hopefully won't have to go through the hell that I did.

But stepping back from the political speak of the situation; the whole point of this was just to say thank you to the show and its creators:

Thank you for giving us Korrasami.

Thank you for giving my inner child the satisfaction and hope that she always needed.

Thank you for unabashedly standing by this decision, not shying away from it, and not being afraid to tell the world that you did so.

Thank you for showing me, a predominantly LGBT writer, how to handle the critics with tact, and thank you for giving me the reassurance that this is something I can do.

Thank you for giving us two strong, well developed female characters engaging in a healthy relationship with each other.

Thank you for "showing me the light inside me."

Thank you for giving me even more of a reason to love this show.

I realize my commentary here doesn't even begin to touch everything that I feel, and it's a little all over the place, but this isn't a simple thing to put into words, and should I ever have the chance to meet any of the show's affiliates, I would hope the words would come a little more eloquently.

This may sound unusual to some, and that's fine, I don't expect everyone to understand where I'm coming from. I just know this is something that means a great deal to me. So much so that I've had the nagging feeling to write this article so many times, and week after week, the feeling doesn't go away.

It's not just a feeling of being a fan, or even someone with obsessive tendencies indulging something she loves. There are points where I can feel my friends getting annoyed with my fixation on this show, so much so that I can almost see the "it's just a TV show Anna" perched on the edges of their mouths.

It's something special to me that no matter how many times I watch that finale, I still get the buoyant rise in my stomach, that "scream and throw my phone across the room" happy feeling, the teary eyes and permanent smile that most people would roll their eyes at.

But I know, that it isn't just happiness for me. It's the overdue gratuitous feeling for my 13-year-old self who needed to see or hear that it was okay.

And for that, Legend of Korra, I can never thank you enough.