#icf

[cyborgneuedog]

ICF Starline Lynx Prototype Prototype Build, 2026

A prototype of a toy of Starline Lynx soon to begin production, designed by MaksVolk15 and produced by Imaginary Creature Factory.

[bisexualvalve]

East coast could see rolling blackouts as data centers strain the electric grid

PJM, which services nearly 70 million Americans, could be forced to trigger blackouts during periods of high demand

Warning signs are already flashing red. This summer, heat waves surged demand for power on the PJM grid to “near-record highs” as consumers tried to cool their homes, according to the Journal. PJM responded by requesting that all power plants operate at full capacity. PJM also paid multiple large energy users, including factories, to cease operations.

While historically rare, rolling blackouts can be deadly. Over 200 people died in Texas in the winter of 2021 after the grid operator in the state ordered utilities to institute rolling blackouts to prevent complete grid failure amid freezing temperatures. Some Texans were without power for days.

A few months ago, PJM came up with proposals intended to balance the needs of both consumers and data centers. One plan said they would slash power to data centers during periods of strain.

Tech companies such as Amazon, Microsoft and Google opposed the plan, claiming it unfairly singled out data centers. They responded by offering their own proposals, which would make going offline voluntary.

[newsandstuffisee]

[wearepeace]

“More smiling, less worrying. More compassion, less judgment. More blessed, less stressed. More love, less hate.” In Baghdad, the Iraqi Children Foundation run three mobile schools called the Hope Buses. These deliver tutoring, healthcare and social support to orphans, street kids and displaced children living in disadvantaged neighborhoods.

[bumumkun]

Geçmişle gelecek arasında mekik dokuyanlar. Aşırı düşünmekten yorulanlar. Kafasının içinde bir türlü susmayan seslerle yaşayanlar. Rahat bir gece uykusuna hasret kalanlar. Hayatının anlamının peşinden koşmaktan çaresiz düşenler. Uyumlu ve esnek bir insan olmak isteyenler. Anı yaşamanın, aydınlanmanın, özgürlüğün peşinde olanlar. Bu kitap bir spiritüel aydınlanma rehberidir. 4 serilik kitaptan ilkidir. Eğer artık uyanmak istiyorsanız bu kitap o kitap. Sindire sindire, özümseyerek, üzerine düşünerek okunması gereken bir kitap. İyi okumalar. #bumümkün #bumumkun #koç #koçluk #eğitmen #icfpcc #icf #mykbelgelikoc #mentor #an #şimdi #geçmiş #gelecek #bağımlılık #bağımlılıklar #acı #kaçmak #yüzleşmek #farkındalık #yüksekbilinç #direnç #düşünceler #gözlemlemek #dikkat #uyan #şimdiveburadaol (Istanbul, Turkey) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cno762SKv7f/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[certifiedlifecoachinfo]

What is a life coach?

To answer this question, we must first examine what a life coach is not. There are many misconceptions of life coaches. First and foremost, at the time of this post, life coaching is not a regulated industry. There is no official governing authority overseeing life coaches. The closest type of organization to regulation would be the International Coaching Federation (“ICF”). ICF has set what it considers to be standards for the life coaching industry. However, one is not required to be registered with ICF, nor is one required to be certified.

With that said, many self proclaimed “life coaches” may not have received formal training, and they may not be aware of things that may be inappropriate to do. To be a good life coach, in general, requires patience, emotional intelligence, active listening skills, ability to synthesize information, access to resources, supportive and encouraging demeanor, and proper use of appropriate questions. Certification legitimates an individual by demonstrating one has had proper training. Therefore, it is worth hiring a life coach who is certified through an organization such as ICF or the Certified Coaches Alliance (“CCA”). These entities require codes of ethics to be adhered. Violations of these ethics may result if revocation of certification.

It is a popular misconception that life coaches are therapists, counselors, advisors, or consultants. That, in part, can be blamed on employers mixing job descriptions to hire “cheap” labor and/or under qualified candidates. Therapists and counselors can be life coaches, but life coaches are not therapists or counselors unless they have degrees and have passed state board examinations, which qualify them to be therapists and counselors. In other words, a therapist or counselor need not require additional training to be a life coach. Conversely, a life coach would require specialized training and credentials to be a therapist or counselor.

Psychologists and psychiatrists can diagnose, but some states may have rules and regulations, pertaining to diagnoses by therapists and counselors. Life coaches are neither qualified nor authorized to diagnose unless they are licensed to do so. In coaching, we learn, to effectively serve clients, we must distinctly separate our services. For example, if one is a psychologist and a life coach, one should delineate between which services are being provided and when. Similarly, a certified health coach must separate him/herself from being a certified personal trainer if s/he is also a certified personal trainer. Each service should be separate and distinct.

A good life coach knows how to identify when a client needs services beyond the scope of the life coach. It is recommended that life coaches establish networks and/or resources to better serve clients who would benefit from additional services. For example, it is common for people to “feel stuck.” A good life coach can help clients uncover what is blocking their progress. However, if it is discovered that there is a deeper, clinical reason for the blockage, at that point, a good life coach would know to make a referral to a mental health provider who can work in conjunction with the life coach and client. Some blockages may be trauma related or entwined with past experiences, inhibiting progress. Mental health providers help resolve past experiences. Life coaches focus on the present, leading to the future.

Life coaches serve as accountability coaches by helping clients set clear goals, manage goals, and take incremental steps to achieve those goals. Mental health providers may also incorporate some of those techniques, but their main focus is resolving cognitive concerns of the past. A person who was bullied may encounter difficulties with achieving goals due to feelings of inadequacies or failure. A life coach can help the client identify that as the obstacle, but a mental health provider helps resolve the trauma associated with events of the past. Confidence coaches can help with strategies to improve self image moving forward, but psychologists help resolve the past.

Why can’t a life coach give me answers or tell me what to do?

People often misconceive the role of life coaches, and potential life coaches often have misconceptions of what life coaches actually do. When they hire life coaches, they think we are supposed to diagnose and treat them or that we are supposed to give them answers to all of their questions. A popular myth is that life coaches solve people’s problems and tell people what to do. Here is why they are wrong.

The only person who can truly know and understand you is you. If your life is a book, then you are the best author. You have the first hand account of your life and experiences. You know what circumstances you have, which vary by person. An answer for your friend may not be the best answer for you. Let us think of two very different people with the same exact question: what should I do with my life? While the question is the same for both individuals, each person has his/her own journey. By journey, we can say each person experiences life differently. In chado, traditional / formal Japanese tea ceremony, we were taught a classic way of thinking — ichi-go ichi-e, which means one chance, one encounter.

To further elaborate, if you are standing at the beach, looking at a rainbow at 10:00 EST on Sunday, May 1, 2022, while wearing blue shoes, then you did the same thing the following year, not every single variable could be perfectly replicated. The weather, wind, sunlight, birds flying, other people, precise color of the sky, earth’s exact position, and other factors would be different if even slightly. You may not even have the same exact emotion, physical sensation, or thoughts. Due to these characteristics and many more, no two people can have the same exact experience given a plethora of uncontrolled variables. This is why two people can have the same question but experience the question in differing ways.

Life coaching is a co creative relationship not a co dependent relationship. It is not a structure for a client to become dependent on a life coach. A good life coach aids with strategies of independence, so clients can learn to rely upon themselves. If people did everything for us, we would lack basic survival skills, and we would have no incentive to think for ourselves or learn problem solving skills. Example: learning math is useful when calculators fail. Our lives will not stop completely when calculators stop working. We were taught basic skills to compute on our own. This is similar to the life coaching relationship.

With all of that said, a life coach cannot simply give you answers, because the question itself is not so simple on a personal and individual level. The answer for you may very well be a different answer for another person. Individuals may not be able to objectively ask themselves questions to find the answers they already possess. As a life coach, our job is to listen to you objectively and judgement free, clarify what you are stating, and help you dig deeply to reach those answers. We help you destroy self-imposed limits and boundaries to unlock your full potential. We help you discover your truth. We help you feel empowered.

Why hire a life coach, if a life coach cannot tell you what to do?

Life coaches cannot judge, advise, or command. Life coaching is a co-creative relationship in which the coach listens judgement free. The coach should not give you answers or tell you what to do. To state it simply, life coaches are not qualified to give advice as to how you should live. The only true expert in all that is you is you. You know yourself best. While we each have similar questions, such as, “What is my purpose in life?” we each have different answers. The answer for one may not be the answer for another. This is why we are our own experts.

We all have the answers we seek. Sometimes those answers are beneath the surface. Other times those answers are deeply hidden. A certified life coach is trained to actively listen, concisely clarify what you have stated, and ask deeper questions designed to help you peel away the layers until you reach the answer. A certified life coach is there to help you ask the questions you may not think to ask yourself.

Most people do not typically prefer feeling lonely, which is different than being alone. Having a life coach is similar to having your very own cheerleader — someone who supports and encourages you, so you do not have to feel alone. Research studies evidence individuals with coaches feel they are able to achieve their goals more so than when they did not have coaches. This could be due to having external support systems. Tasks seem more enjoyable when encouragement and support are offered.

Once you have uncovered your answers, it is usually time to take action. Certified life coaches help you identify and set SMART goals. Goals should be specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and time bound. Certified life coaches facilitate action plans to achieve your goals one step at a time by serving as accountability partners. They help you break down big goals into more manageable pieces. During each session, the life coach should summarize with you the plans of the prior session to see if you have accomplished what you decided to do.

Schedule your initial consultation to see which coaching plan is right for you. Actualization may be reached in the first session; however, results vary by individual and is affected by individual processes.

[barbiecarlo]

pride championship celly with dirty water playing in the background i'm going to cry thanks !

[hellishchrissy]

chapter 1 - this will sound dumb 

chapter 2 - we need rules

chapter 3 - we’re in this mess together

chapter 4 - just don’t do anything i wouldn’t

chapter 5 - so fucking special

“What is this place?” Eleonora asked Edoardo parked in front of a shabby looking diner in some corner of Rome that she had never even visited. She turned back towards Edoardo to wait for an answer, but the boy only shook his head as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

Edoardo jumped out of the car, gesturing for her to follow. “Just wait for it, Sava. You’ll love it.”

“This looks exactly like the place where we both are gonna get murdered,” Eleonora hissed but followed Edoardo nevertheless, frowning as the boy opened the door and held it open for her. Eleonora stepped inside and was slightly taken aback by what she was seeing:

The diner didn’t look like much from the outside, but the moment she stepped inside Eleonora felt like she had been travelling back years, decades even. She could recognize the traditional American diner style that she had seen in loads of American movies, but there was something even more different about this one. The booths were light blue coloured, the air smelled of coffee even though it was nearly midnight on a Friday night, and there was a classic rock song playing in the background.

“Wow,” Eleonora uttered as they sat down in one of the booths, and Edoardo grinned.

“I know, right? Found this place with Elena when we were like 14,” the boy explained, but Eleonora could see him visibly freezing when he forced Elena’s name through his lips. Edoardo fell silent, and the words were left hanging between them like a physical wall, and after a few seconds he started fiddling with one of the laminated menus.

Eleonora turned her gaze away from Edoardo, turning her attention to the people around her, instead. There was a small boy with his mother, both giggling at some joke that Eleonora couldn’t hear. There were teenagers keeping them awake with cups of coffee, there were lonely-looking people scattered around the diner. Eleonora could hear faint singing wafting from the kitchen, and every now and then there was a burst of laughter from somewhere. The entire place felt so alive, even at midnight. Who were these people, why were they here? It was a fascinating thought.

“When I was a kid I wanted to be a waitress at this sort of a place,” Eleonora suddenly said.

Edoardo looked up with curious eyes. “A diner?”

“Yeah. There was a certain charm to it,” Eleonora explained, shrugging at the though that now felt silly. “In all those movies there was always that cute guy that came into the diner and fell in love at first sight with the waitress. It was cheesy, but I loved it.”

But the boy only smiled, shaking his head with a quiet laugh that Eleonora nearly missed. “Likes cheesy movies. Adding that to the list of ‘weird things I know about Eleonora Sava’.”

Eleonora laughed, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I told you that.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time it felt much easier than before. Eleonora felt at ease even when they were just sitting there, comfortable in their own, private little moment that somehow felt more real than anything that Edoardo had experienced in a while. Looking at Eleonora right now, he felt some sort of unexpected happiness. He wished he could freeze the moment and live in it a little longer.

“I could take a picture of you,” Edoardo blurted. “You know, post it on Instagram. Elena will see it and… Yeah.”

Eleonora frowned but shrugged, running her hand through her messy hair as Edoardo pulled out his phone to take a photo. She stared into the camera, trying her best to feel comfortable as the boy stared at her through the lense.

“Sava, why so serious? Is my company that bad?”

Eleonora reacted with a reserved smile for the camera, but as Edoardo stared making faces the girl could feel her facade crumbling. And when she finally started laughing, the boy used the moment as an opportunity to snap a picture of the girl’s genuine happiness. She looked beautiful like that; her eyes closed in laughter, her hand waving off the camera like she was trying to snatch it from Edoardo’s hands. Beautiful. And real. Eleonora was like a touch of real life, real moments that Edoardo wished he could experience more of.

“Let me know if Elena likes it or something,” Eleonora said, and Edoardo nodded as he put his phone on the table between them. Eleonora couldn’t deny herself the curiosity she was feeling as she thought of Edoardo’s ex-girlfriend; the girls had only seen exchanged a few glances between them at the party, but Edoardo had never really actually talked about the girl or what they had talked about at the party.

Fuck it. “How was Elena, anyway? I saw you two go into the bathroom together.”

There was a certain sharp edge to Eleonora’s voice, and Edoardo raised his eyebrows when he heard it. “Uhh… She was fine. It’s just weird between us, really. She barely talks to me when she sees me but the moment I leave she’s blowing up my phone. We were at Chicco’s party for a while, and she basically ignored me all night, but now she’s texting me like crazy.”

And almost like it was making a point, Edoardo’s phone buzzed on the table, alerting him of another text message from her ex-girlfriend. Eleonora eyed the phone with a certain distain, and was surprised to feel a spark of jealousy somewhere deep, deep inside her. It was there for a second and gone the next, but it felt jarring. Almost as jarring as Edoardo’s eyes that were now looking at Eleonora with curiosity.

“Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know,” Eleonora said honestly. “Are you gonna text her back?”

Edoardo shook his head, nervously tapping an uneven rhythm on the table. He turned to look away and shrugged. “No. Maybe. I’ll probably call her later or something.”

Eleonora frowned. “You still talk?”

The boy’s gaze shifted back to Eleonora on the other side of the table, and she could see that the boy was gathering up the right words to answer. There was a defensive taste to his tone when he finally answered: “There’s a lot of history between us.”

“That’s not an answer, Incanti. I think you’re just scared to let go of her,” Eleonora said with teasing tone, but there was a harsh truth to her words that Edoardo wanted to avoid.

Edoardo shook his head all the while actively avoiding eye contact. He did this for a while, all the while their silence was constantly interrupted by the buzz of his phone. Finally their moment was interrupted by a pretty waitress that made her way up to them. “Can I get you guys anything?”

“Coffee,” Eleonora and Edoardo said in unison, making the waitress smile.

Minutes passed, maybe tens of them passed in silence as the pair drank their coffee, grateful for something to do in order to avoid their conversation. Edoardo’s eyes had an intense look on them as he sipped his coffee and scrolled through tens of messages that Eleonora was sending him, and Eleonora watched on with distain. How long had Edoardo been in this toxic circle with Elena, trying to escape her grip of him yet never quite succeeding? He must’ve been truly toxic to seek out the help of a random girl that he had never even talked to. For a second Eleonora’s frustration turned into compassion, but only for a mere, passing second.

“Why do you care, anyway?” Edoardo blurted out as he slammed his phone back to the table, clearly provoked by something he had read.

“Because you got me into this mess,” Eleonora answered, circling the handle of her coffee mug. “Why did you?”

Edoardo groaned and leaned back into the booth chair, sinking into the cushions. “I just really needed someone Elena didn’t see coming. Someone who she didn’t know. Someone I knew she’d be jealous of.”

“And also, I knew that I could be of help to you too. You know, with your ex and everything,” he finished.

“Oh,” Eleonora simply said, feeling herself physically flinch at the mention of Matteo. She gripped her mug tighter, so tight Edoardo could see her knuckles turning white.

“I’m sorry for what he did,” Edoardo simply said, and Eleonora nodded. “You must be scared of it all because of him.”

“Scared of what?” Asked Eleonora.

“Relationships.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, because of Matteo and my mom,” Eleonora answered, and it looked like she could’ve just about choke on the name of her ex-boyfriend.

“What happened with your mom?” Edoardo asked curiously, although he felt like he was threading on thin ice right about now.

Eleonora took a deep breath but didn’t answer for a while. She turned her gaze to the city lights outside the window, her own reflection in the glass staring back. “She uh… She’s not the most present mother that there is. I just feel like she’s a good example of the more people you actually let in… The more they can just walk on out.”

Eleonora sounded far too casual for the emotion to be real. There was a warmth of sympathy in Edoardo’s chest, and for a moment he felt like he wanted to confess the truth of his own family to the girl. Fuck. That would be too much to load on Eleonora. Too much too quickly. “I get that. I have similar problems.”

Eleonora smiled a broken smile at Edoardo, brushing a lock of brown hair behind her ear. Silence. More silence. Fuck, it felt like they went way too far. Edoardo felt guilty, because he could see how uncomfortable Eleonora felt, how vulnerable she looked sitting there in the booth, her skin pale and eyes glassy. She looked tiny, so frail. So vulnerable.

“But you’re not scared of me,” Edoardo said warmly. “Right?”

“Yeah, of course I’m not.” Eleonora confirmed. “Because we’re just pretending.”

For some reason the words were like a gut punch, and Edoardo felt breathless for some fucking reason. He looked away from the girl, quick to hide the look of unexpected disappointment that was quickly forming on his features. He cleared his throat and nodded far too many times for it to be genuine. A forced chuckle slipped through his lips. “Right. Of course. Eleonora Sava, ladies and gentlemen, you can count on her to keep it honest.”

Edoardo grabbed his keys from the table and scrambled up to his feet, fixing the collar of his eyes in an attempt to avoid looking at Eleonora, who was staring him down. “Wait, Edoardo? Ar- Are we good?”

“Yes, for sure,” Edoardo lied, scratching his head. His tone was pretentiously light and easy-going, and for a moment he hated himself for being such a shitty, shitty liar. “And thank you for coming to the party tonight.”

The ride back was quiet and tension-filled, the car’s stereo blasting out music louder than usually like Edoardo was trying to drown out his own thoughts. They sure did drown out Eleonora’s. Or maybe the boy just really didn’t wan’t to talk. Maybe he was tired. Maybe he was tired of Eleonora. Maybe he was angry at her. There were a lot of maybies unsaid in the car, and they both felt it.

“You wanna come to my place for a bit?” Edoardo asked carefully, then quickly added: “You know, just for fun. I could teach you that guitar, remember?” A shitty excuse.

There was strange tone to Edoardo’s voice, but Eleonora couldn’t help herself from smiling when he asked her. It was a  relief that he still wanted to hang out with her, even after the things they shared and the stuff they said to each other. Eleonora nodded. “Yeah, for sure.”

Fifteen minutes later they were pulling up to Edoardo’s house. The neighbourhood was quiet, asleep. The only lights were emitting from the cityline below, and yet again Eleonora was charmed by the beauty of Rome at night; it truly felt like the city never slept. There was a strange, exciting beauty to it, one that Eleonora not had always paid attention to.

“You coming, Sava?” Edoardo hollered from his front door that he was now keeping open for her. Eleonora turned and took a few running steps across Edoardo’s front lawn to reach him, making the boy laugh when he closed the door behind them. He turned on the lights of the grand living room, as he casually walked across the space to the glass doors that led to his back yard. He opened the doors, letting the breeze of cool night air push into the house.

Eleonora followed Edoardo to the door, taking a glance at the backyard. There was a pool a mere few steps away from the door, the lights under the water illuminating the air a blue colour. The beams of light played on Eleonora’s features, and Edoardo couldn’t look away. “You have a pool.”

“I have a pool,” Edoardo confirmed, smiling. Then he turned around, reaching for one of the acoustic guitars on the wall. “And now, we’re gonna be teaching you to play. Trust me, you’ll be better than Jimi Hendricks by the time I’m done with you.”

Eleonora laughed at Edoardo’s words, flopping down on to the soft couch. Edoardo sat in an armchair across from her, fingers absent-mindedly plucking at the strings that were clearly familiar to him. A quiet hum escaped from under his breath, a familiar melody that Eleonora could no longer name.

“I want you to play for me first,” Eleonora demanded, and lifted her hand when Edoardo opened his mouth to protest. “I know you can play, so play. Or are you scared, Incanti?”

Edoardo rolled his eyes as he tuned the instruments, humming the same melody again. It sounded eerily familiar, but Eleonora could not place a name nor a memory to the sound of it - only a feeling that she had heard it sometime. It sounded better right now though, hummed under the breath of Edoardo Incanti at one in the morning.

Edoardo’s eyes were locked on the his own fingers on the strings, pondering. “Fine.”

He looked up from the guitar as he found the right notes, an absent look in his eyes as he started plucking away at the same, familiar melody that he had hummed earlier. And when the lyrics started gliding off of Edoardo’s lips with such ease, Eleonora couldn’t look away. Or perhaps she could’ve, but she didn’t want to - she could’ve sat there for hours, looking at Edoardo Incanti plucking away at his guitar, his voice wrapping around the lyrics in a way that Eleonora had never heard before. There was a certain roughness to his voice, but it merely made it more real.

“- When you we’re here before Couldn’t look you in the eye You’re just like an angel Your skin makes me cry-“

Eleonora remembered. She finally remembered the lyrics, the song, the melody. She could remember Filo blasting out the words on joint car rides, she could remember her mother humming the melody on a grocery shopping trip, she could remember the song playing quietly on her father’s record player. The memories were scattered, they were hazy, but Eleonora remembered.

“You float like a feather,” Eleonora continued, her voice rough. She hesitated, but continued nevertheless: “In a beautiful world.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Edoardo’s lips as he listened, plucking at the melody even after Eleonora’s voice faded into silence. There was something about her, right then and there, sitting across from him at one in the morning, a thoughtful look in her green eyes. She looked beautiful, she looked complicated, and Edoardo felt terrified of what he was feeling.

“I wish I was special, you’re so fucking special,” Eleonora hummed on, following Edoardo’s fingers on the guitar. Edoardo was looking at her, and Eleonora was burning under his gaze; his gaze was intense, nearly invasive in a way that made Eleonora’s cheek heaten up. Edoardo noticed it, and gradually looked away as both their voices faded, the last of the lyrics gliding off Edoardo’s tongue rather than Eleonora’s.

Eleonora got up from the couch, suddenly terrified of the feeling in her chest. Fuck. “I think I should go home.”

“Well, that was a shitty lesson,” Edoardo said, slowly getting up from the chair. “You didn’t even touch the guitar.”

He took a step closer, then another. Eleonora nearly felt herself go out of breath when Edoardo was close enough to touch, towering over her. “I’m kidding. I’ll take you home, Sava.”

“Thank you.”

Edoardo’s gaze was burning again, his mouth opening like he was about to say something. Instead he got rid of the last inches between them, brushing a runaway strand of hair away from Eleonora face. Eleonora shivered when he touched her, feeling the weight of all the unsaid things between them hoverin over the pair. For a second Edoardo almost looked like he was about to say something again, but instead he let his hand fall to his side, turning his gaze to the front door.

“Let’s go then,” he said, completely shifting his entire demeanor.

The silence between them only grew the entire way back to Eleonora’s house. Edoardo stared at the road in front of him, tapping at the steering wheel, his jaws clenched so tight like he was physically trying to stop himself from doing or saying something. Eleonora tried to keep her own, tired eyes on the city they were driving through.

“Well, good night,” Eleonora said nervously as Edoardo pulled over to the side of street. 

Edoardo smiled at her. “Good night, Sava.”

Without saying another word Eleonora got out of the car, hurrying her way to the door of her building, hurrying up the stairs, hurrying to the door of her apartment. She let out a tense sigh when she closed the door behind herself, feeling nearly dizzy as she recapped the night with Edoardo. The apartment was dead silent, and Filo’s keys were gone from the wooden kitchen table. Figures - of course he had went out. It was Filippo Sava, after all. Eleonora smiled at the little note her brother had left for her, crumbling it in her fist as she entered her room. Eleonora kicked off her shoes and plopped sitting onto her bed.

Eleonora’s phone buzzed. @edincanti tagged you in a post.

It was a slightly shaky image of Eleonora laughing, her hand grasping for something - Edoardo’s phone, clearly - in the air, her eyes twinkling with joy. It was strange to see herself like that, through someone else’s lense. The moment felt real even through the screen.

The caption under the photo was simple: “So fucking special.”