You're walking down the open, wide hall of the auditorium, trying hard to reach the door to get inside much like the rest of the student body. From the very first look, one can see that you put time and effort into the way you appear. The curls bouncing by your shoulders, the way the highlight of your cheekbone catches the light and reflects, down to the way you are dressed. Meticulous, put together, pretty.

Your heels are sliding over the marble floor, announcing your arrival and it perhaps causes a few curious glances your way, and then down to your feet. Some people are amazed by your bravery, some scoff away and slouch deeper into their beat up sneakers. Some others are not so kind, looking down at your feet and back at your face, talking about you with whoever they're with.

And you may or may not pretend you can see those people, may or may not even acknowledge them. But they're still there, and you knew they would be there.

Unfortunately, I am guilty of the last one—observing your feet and the height of your heels, judging your posture and looking down at the angle of your knees, acting as if I have never tried walking in heels around our university campus.

I claim to be a feminist, an advocate to what it means for a girl to love herself and love others, no matter who they are, or what they look like, or what they claim to be. Yet the moment I am exposed to a girl doing something more—doing something for herself, doing something brave—I am quick, either in mind or in speech, to shoot her down.

You may believe wearing heels on campus isn't brave, but listen, it's the fact that this girl decided to look a certain way, decided to like how she looks in a certain way, and expose herself to the world that's brave.

I am a firm believer that girls are not always out to get each other, that girls can be supportive each other, regardless if they are strangers or friends. I've realized that believing is far different from being, and just believing it will never be enough. I am guilty of judgement, I am guilty of what may come out of my heart but not out of my mouth, and it's time I assessed my thoughts and ideas, and rewired them to become the kind of thoughts I want them to be.

It's never too late to be kind.

So, to the girl walking down our campus in heels, to the girl who took a bit more time with her hair, her makeup, or her outfit, who took the time to bless us with a #look, who goes along her day appreciating her existence, and to the girl who did nothing at all but roll out of bed, thank you.

And thank you for deciding to go another day doing what you want to do.