This framed photo of David Bowie hangs in my home, and has since I was 17.
I found it buried and forgotten at a thrift store - later discovered it is actually a yellowed page ripped out a 80s teen magazine the previous owner framed for posterity.
In high school, he hung out above my bed - telling me that hard teenage years weren't forever. In college, he went missing and was found three months later underneath my roommate's mattress. In my first apartment, he hung out as a conversation piece (plus he has those Mona Lisa eyes that follow you everywhere).
Since forever, he's always reminded me that wanting to express your true self and be unique or weird or rebellious or a little bit sexy should never make anyone felt ashamed.
We're all a little bit of a space oddity, aren't we? Embrace you inner Bowie, baby.