(After accidentally coming out to my parents as bisexual and being shamed and yelled at, I am terrified to tell anyone, even my closest friends. One girl that I usually talk to about everything is a few rows back on a bus ride, and we are texting. I have been having a really bad time mentally and she is trying to help me through it.)

Friend: “You know, you’re worthy of love. Your friends care for you so much. I care about you. Someone one day is going to love you so much they won’t be able to live without you.”

Me: “Okay, [Friend], I’m only telling you this because I trust you. You’re like an older sister to me. Please don’t hate me for telling you this, but if you do, I’ll try to stay away from you at practice and not bother you anymore. I’m bi.”

Friend: “Why would I hate you, [My Name]?”

Me: “Because my parents did; then they decided I was just looking for attention or joking.”

Friend: “Well, I could never hate you, and if you stop talking to me because of this I’m going to be really upset so don’t, please.”

(Later after we are getting back on the bus after eating, she stops me outside.)

Friend: “You’re my friend no matter what. Thank you for trusting me. It means a lot. May I hug you?”

Me: “I mean, are you okay with that?”

Friend: “You’ve called me your older sister before. I think it’s safe to say yes.”

(So thank you so much for this. After having my family reject me, it meant a lot that you accepted me for who I am. Thank you, older sister. I love you.)

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(I go to Comic Con in cosplay, dressed as a Little Sister from the game Bioshock. My costume is a ripped and discoloured purple dress which I bought from an op shop, and makeup to make my face look a weird grayish colour. I’ve taken off the makeup but my face still looks quite off-colour. I am on my way home at about 6:30 pm (the convention ended at 6 pm) when a guy about my age (I’m 15) comes up to me and sits across from me.)

Him: *looking worried at my dress* “Um… are you okay? You look a little distressed?”

Me: *extremely confused* “Yes… err, thanks for asking, but could I ask why?”

Him: “Well, it’s getting darker now, and you’re on a train, you look like you’re s***-scared of something, and your dress is in shambles. I actually thought you might’ve been attacked by someone.”

Me: *laughing a bit* “Nah, I’m fine. It’s just cosplay; I went to Comic Con.”

Him: “Ooooh! Okay, I just wanted to make sure.” *the train’s automated system announces the next station* “I’ve got to go. Get home safely!”

(Even though i was fine, it was nice to see that someone saw a girl who looked like she’d been through something bad (even though I hadn’t) and just made an effort to make sure that they were okay.)

(In college, I live in a second floor apartment. I take a bad step and crash to the ground. My roommate isn’t home and I’ve lost my keys so I sit on the steps waiting. Being poor and in college, I just ice the foot that night and hope for the best. The next day, though, it is pretty obvious I’ve broken a bone. We have no car and rely on the campus bus. The stop is only about 200 yards from our place so it isn’t too painful. We don’t know the Saturday bus driver, but ask him if he’ll stop in front of the campus infirmary as I’d seen the weekday driver do that often. The driver not only refuses, he goes a different route so we don’t even pass the infirmary. My roommate and I get off the bus at the library and I start to hobble across campus, stopping to cry frequently. We are about half-way when a cop stops and asks if we need help.)

Me: “I’m just trying to get to the campus medic’s office. I may have broken my foot.”

Cop: “No problem.”

(He gets out of the car and opens the door for my roommate and me, and drives us right to the front door of the infirmary.)

Cop: “Here’s my card. Call me when you’re through. I’d like to know the diagnosis.”

(After X-rays, it is determined that I have, indeed broken the outside bone of my foot so I get a cast and crutches.)

Me: “So, ready to walk?”

Roommate: “I’m calling that cop.”

Me: “Seriously? Why? He did us a huge favor. I don’t really think he wants to know. He was just being polite.”

Roommate: “I don’t care. I’m calling.”

(She calls him and he comes to pick us up! He drives us home and chit chats.)

Cop: “Do you have a prescription that needs to be filled?”

Me: “Well, yeah. But I don’t think I will. With the cast on, it doesn’t hurt that bad. Honestly, I just want to put my foot up and have a beer.”

Cop: “Do you have beer at home?”

Me: “Actually, no. I’ll have to make do with putting the foot up.”

Cop: “Right, then.”

(He stops at the convenience store on the corner from our neighborhood and asks if I want a soda. I decline.)

Cop: “Okay. Stay put, then. I’ll be right back. This place has the best donuts and I’m due for one.”

(I kid you not, he came back out with donuts and a six pack of beer! He drove us home, helped me up the stairs, got me situated on the sofa with a beer, and headed back out!)

(I’m in a hurry, because my flight got delayed and I have ten minutes to get from one side of the airport to the other to catch my connecting flight. I sprint through the airport and reach the inland security-check, panting and sweating, and see a really long waiting line in front of me.)

Elderly Gentleman: *in front of me* “You look like you are in a hurry.”

Me: “I just got here from [Country] and my flight got delayed so I have to be through this security gate and in the plane in about two minutes.”

Elderly Gentleman: *starts smiling over all over his face* “Awesome. I was waiting for a reason to try this.” *pulls out his black diamond VIP card from [Airline] and waves it at the service lady who is coordinating the waiting lines*

Service Lady: “Oh, hello, sir. I’m really sorry I didn’t notice you before. What can I do for you?”

Elderly Gentleman: “Well, my son needs to catch his flight to in two minutes. He got delayed on his incoming connecting flight.”

(The service lady brings us up to the red carpet check through, and makes sure that we get checked immediately, to speed things up. A young lady behind us starts yelling.)

Lady: “YOU HAVE TO WAIT IN LINE LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE! I HAVE A GOLD CARD AND YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO LET ME WAIT FOR SOME OLD FART JUST BECAUSE HE IS GOING TO DIE BEVOR HE REACHES HIS PLANE!”

(Everybody, including the TSA people, stop and watch to see the reaction of the elderly gentleman.)

Elderly Gentleman: *still his VIP-card in his hand, looks at his VIP card, back to the young lady and back to his card again, turns around and continues with the security check*

Lady: “YOU STUPID, DEAF, OLD IDIOT! GET BACK IN LINE SO I GET THE SERVICE I PAY FOR WITH MY GOLD CARD!”

Elderly Gentleman: *turns around* “Show me your gold card.”

(The young lady fumes and shows him her gold card. The elderly gentleman takes the card throws it in the bin.)

Elderly Gentleman: “People like you are not worthy to wield the power of a gold card.”

(With that, he walked off with me and the service lady in tow to guide us to my flight. Everybody started laughing and the young lady stood there totally baffled. Due to this awesome gentleman, I was able to catch my flight in time and see my fiancée for a whole week.)

(I set out for a solo trip to a city on the coast to try and take my mind off of some bad final exams. I drive an old truck, more than a decade old, and think it will be able to handle the 100-mile trip. I am wrong. As I almost get to the coast, the radiator indicator hits red, and fluid starts spraying out. I try to make it back home, thinking a quick fix, water in the radiator, will hold me over. It doesn’t. Close to midnight, I pull off the highway to a gas station, pop the hood, and collapse into the fetal position and start freaking out.)

Random Guy: “You need some help?”

(I am a transgender man, and this is a podunk not-town off the highway. I am not expecting good things.)

Me: “No, no, I’m go— Actually, I’m f***ed, and my truck’s f***ed, too. I called my parents to come get me, so I’m fine.”

Random Guy: “You mind if I take a look?”

(He looks over the engine, and I’m expecting him to agree that it’s a lost cause, but that’s not the case. Without talking to me, he turns to his younger brother, hands him money, and tells him to run inside and get a flashlight.)

Random Guy: “I know a thing or two about engines, so I’ll have a look at this for you, if it’s all right?”

Me: “If you want to; maybe I’ll have something to tell my parents, for when they take it to a shop.”

(He and his brother look it over, pronounce the radiator a lost cause (a metal radiator with a fissure the side of a three-year-old down the back of it) and I try to thank them and send them on their way.)

Random Guy: “No way. You’re out here alone, next to a truck stop, no-one around for miles. I can’t let you stay out here alone for however long it’s gonna take your folks to get out here. We’ll stick around ’til then.”

Me: “It’s gonna be an hour at the least.”

Random Guy: “If it keeps you safe, it’s fine with us. Right guys?”

(He and his entire family stayed in their car next to mine until my parents got there over an hour-and-a-half later. No-one tried anything, but for all I know, it’s only because some people I’d never met before, and will probably never meet again, went out of their way to camp at a near ghostly empty gas station to keep a stressed 20-year-old safe from rowdy truckers or worse.)