Where This Began
He walked into every room
like it was a convention
I had a friend who worked with me at my restaurant. He was eighteen years old, one of the most vibrant people I've ever known — always smiling, always finding a way to make someone's day a little better just by being in the room.
Every time he saw me, without fail, he'd grin and say something like — "Are we at the handsome convention?" It was so dumb. It was so needed. I'd reply, every time: "I knew I'd see you here."
He took his own life. He was eighteen.
The Handsome Foundation exists because of him — and because of every person quietly drowning while the world keeps moving. We show up every day so that no one has to feel invisible.
Are we at the handsome convention?
— A friend. 18 years old. The reason this exists.
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