screw-happilyeverafter

ittybitty-machine:

50flightsofstrong:

xxunlovelyxx:

asanaambitions:

therealcoleyy:

nachtbilder:

Justin Bartels - Impression (2012)

I can’t not reblog this.

This is the best thing on the Internet. We undress everyday and it shows us how confined we are. Those imprints show how uncomfortable we are throughout each day just to impress other people. We create prisons in our own clothes. We are a prisoner in a socially constructed idea of what is beautiful.

yes its back

This.

Amazing

almostincredible

I’ll never punish my daughter for saying no.

The first time it comes out of her mouth, I’ll smile gleefully. As she repeats “No! No! No!” I’ll laugh, overjoyed. At a young age, she’ll have mastered a wonderful skill. A skill I’m still trying to learn. I know I’ll have to teach her that she has to eat her vegetables, and she has to take a nap. But “No” is not wrong. It is not disobedience.

1. She will know her feelings are valid.
2. She will know that when I no longer guide her, she still has a right to refuse.

The first time a boy pulls her hair after she says no, and the teacher tells her “boys will be boys,” we will go to her together, and explain that my daughter’s body is not a public amenity. That boy isn’t teasing her because he likes her, he is harassing her because it is allowed. I will not reinforce that opinion. If my son can understand that “no means no” so can everyone else’s.

3. She owes no one her silence, her time, or her cooperation.

The first time she tells a teacher, “No, that is wrong,” and proceeds to correct his public school, biased rhetoric, I’ll revel in the fact that she knows her history; that she knows our history. The first time she tells me “No” with the purpose and authority that each adult is entitled, I will stop. I will apologize. I will listen.

4. She is entitled to her feelings and her space. I, even a a parent, have no right to violate them.
5. No one has a right to violate them.

The first time my mother questions why I won’t make her kiss my great aunt at Christmas, I’ll explain that her space isn’t mine to control. That she gains nothing but self doubt when she is forced into unwanted affection. I’ll explain that “no” is a complete sentence. When the rest of my family questions why she is not made to wear a dress to our reunion dinner. I will explain that her expression is her own. It provides no growth to force her into unnecessary and unwanted situation.

6. She is entitled to her expression.

When my daughter leaves my home, and learns that the world is not as open, caring, and supportive as her mother, she will be prepared. She will know that she can return if she wishes, that the real world can wait. She will not want to. She will not need to. I will have prepared her, as much as I can, for a world that will try to push her down at every turn.

7. She is her own person. She is complete as she is.

I will never punish my daughter for saying no. I want “No” to be a familiar friend. I never want her to feel that she cannot say it. She will know how to call on “No” whenever it is needed, or wanted.

Lessons I Will Teach, Because the World Will Not — Y.S. (via poetryinspiredbyyou)
peoples
When he says
He doesn’t love you anymore,
Roll your shoulders back
And look him in the eye
Even when it feels like your ribs
Are breaking inward, like spider legs.
When he digs up old aches
That he swore he forgave you for,
Smile
And ask him why he didn’t leave you sooner.
Ignore the way the words feel like sandpaper
Running all the way up your throat to your mouth.
When he blames you
For mistakes that wear his face,
Do not scream.
Do not cry.
Tell him that there are boys
Who would be proud to say they’d loved you.
Tell him that in two years
You won’t even remember his name
And don’t let him see the way you can taste your own lie.
When he leaves
Ignore the howling in your blood
And do not get up after him.
Not even to lock the door.
Do not, do not
Do not.
Smell his shirts when you box them up
To give them back.
Not one.
Swear off dating when you realize
You’re chasing ghosts that wear his smile.
It’s okay to cry over him.
It’s even okay to forgive him.
But do not go back to him.
If he did not know how to love you the first time,
He won’t know how to do it the next.
How To Pretend It Doesn’t Hurt, by Ashe Vernon  (via cesttoujourslamemehistoire)
peoples

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is eight years old, she’s got pink cheeks that her grandmother calls chubby. She wants a second cookie but her aunt says “you’ll get huge if you keep eating.” She wants a dress and the woman in the changing room says “she’ll probably need a large in that.” She wants to have dessert and her waiter says “After all that dinner you just had? You must be really hungry!” and her parents laugh.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is eleven and she is picked second-to-last in gym class. She watches a cartoon and sees that everyone who is annoying is drawn with a big wide body, all sweaty and panting. At night she dreams she is swelling like the ocean over seabeds. When she wakes up, she skips school.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is thirteen and her friends are stick-thin ballerinas with valleys between their hipbones. She is instead developing the wide curves of her mother. She says she is thick but her friends argue that she’s “muscular” and for some reason this hurts worse than just admitting that she jiggles when she walks and she’ll never be a dancer. Eating seconds of anything feels like she’s breaking some unspoken rule. The word “indulgent” starts to go along with “food.”

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is fourteen and she has stopped drinking soda and juice because they bloat you. She always takes the stairs. She fidgets when she has to sit still. Whenever she goes out for ice cream, she leaves half at the bottom - but someone else always leaves more and she feels like she’s falling. She pretends to like salad more than she does. She feels eyes burrowing through her body while she eats lunch. Kate Moss tells her nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, but she just feels like she is wilting.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is fifteen the first time her father says “you’re getting gaunt.” She rolls her eyes. She eats one meal a day but thinks she stays the same size. Every time she picks up a brownie she thinks of the people she sees on t.v. and every time she has cake, she thinks of the one million magazine articles on restricting calories. She used to have no idea a flat stomach was supposed to be beautiful until she saw advice on how to achieve it. She cuts back on everything. She controls. They tell her she’s getting too thin but she doesn’t believe it.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is sixteen and tearing herself into shreds in order for a thigh gap big enough to hush the screams in her head. She doesn’t “indulge,” ever. She can’t go out with friends, they expect her to eat. She damns her sweet tooth directly to hell. It’s coffee for breakfast and tea for lunch and if there’s dance that evening, two cups of water and then maybe an apple. She lies all the time until she thinks the words will rot her teeth. She dreams about food when she sleeps. Her aunt begs her to eat anything, even just a small cookie. They say, “One bite won’t make you fat, will it, darling?”

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is seventeen and too sick to go to prom because she can’t stand up for very long. She thinks she wouldn’t look good in a dress anyway. Her nails are blue and not because they are painted. Her hair is too thin to do anything with. She’s tired all the time and always distracted. She once absently mentions the caloric value of grapes to the boy she is with and he looks at her like she’s gone insane and in that moment she realizes most people don’t have numbers constantly scrolling in their heads. She swallows hard and tries to figure out where it all went wrong, why more than a granola bar for a meal makes her feel sick, why she tastes disease and courts with death. She misses sleep. She misses being able to dream. She misses being herself instead of just being empty.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is twenty and writes poetry and is a healthy weight and still fights down the voices every single day. She puts food in her mouth and sometimes cries about it but more and more often feels good, feels balanced. Her cheeks are pink and they are chubby and soft and no longer growing slight fur. Her hair is long and it is beautiful. She still picks herself apart in the mirror, but she’s starting to get better about it. She wears the dress she likes even if it only fits her in a large and she doesn’t feel like a failure for it. She is falling in love with the fat on her hips.

She is eating out with friends and not worrying about finding the lowest calorie item on the menu when she hears a mother tell her four year old daughter “You can’t have ice cream, we just had dinner.
You don’t want to end up as a fat little girl.”

Why do we constantly do this to our children? /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)
peoples
When you left, I need you to understand that I’m not blaming you, but when you left I was very numb for a while. I remember that I slept well that night. It took a couple of days for me to realize that we were done. When it hit, it felt like how I’d imagined it’d feel to swallow razor blades. I’d spent many times with them pinched between my thumb and index finger. I remember that I couldn’t tell you that I relapsed because you’d blame yourself. I cried a lot. It wasn’t your fault. For a while your name was triggering to me. I think the worst part was that I knew I couldn’t hate you. I wanted to be mad at you, I tried for a while. It’s been a year and I’m okay now. I miss you, but I’m not crying anymore.
A letter to the boy who broke my heart at sixteen, v.m. (via anxius)
fake-mermaid

REALEST zodiac sign stuff

  • Aries: self-centred competitive cunts but still sweet
  • Taurus: nice as heck but dont show much emotions and eat a way too much
  • Gemini: smooth lunatic manipulative assholes but geniuses
  • Cancer: dependant, emotionally unstable lullabies and probably the nicest persons you know
  • Leo: most generous and selfish at the same time attention whores
  • Virgo: steady fuckers that probably have an OCD
  • Libra: double-faced childish bitches but they know how to look good tho
  • Scorpio: paranoid psychos that think about dry humping all day long
  • Sagittarius: funny but rude, one night stands big winner
  • Capricorn: cold-hearted motherfuckers without any social skills
  • Aquarius: weird hipsters that always try to sound deep and different but VERY open-minded
  • Pisces: sensible compulsive liars, daydreamers and super gentle but hypocrites
iindirect
goinggreen1379:

coltre:

A lot of people complain about the night, and how lonely they feel inside their bed. But that’s not how it works for me. I notice I’m lonely at 9 am. When the sun wakes me up and everything is silent around me. I notice I’m lonely at 1 pm. When I walk down the street knowing I  have no one to go visit. I notice I’m lonely at 3 pm. When I draw on my yellow paper knowing there’s no one to say “This drawing is from me to you. I think about you a lot. ” I notice I’m lonely at 6 pm. When I look in the mirror and my body is untouched. There’s no sign of someone else living, touching, breathing my body.  It makes me sad thinking how much love I’m willing to give and it’s all going wasted because after all, maybe some people aren’t meant to be with someone.

Ive never related to anything more than this

goinggreen1379:

coltre:

A lot of people complain about the night, and how lonely they feel inside their bed. But that’s not how it works for me. I notice I’m lonely at 9 am. When the sun wakes me up and everything is silent around me. I notice I’m lonely at 1 pm. When I walk down the street knowing I  have no one to go visit. I notice I’m lonely at 3 pm. When I draw on my yellow paper knowing there’s no one to say “This drawing is from me to you. I think about you a lot. ” I notice I’m lonely at 6 pm. When I look in the mirror and my body is untouched. There’s no sign of someone else living, touching, breathing my body.  It makes me sad thinking how much love I’m willing to give and it’s all going wasted because after all, maybe some people aren’t meant to be with someone.

Ive never related to anything more than this

con-ceal
socialjusticeprincesses:

fat-lasts-longer-than-flavor:

cuadradonegro:

obscurewings:

I made a political cartoon for English class about issues in school
It focuses on how teens are expected to make career defining choices with barely any experience, and also how parents often take so much authority that their child’s decision is not actually their own
If this gets some notes then I’ll make a colored version

thank fucking you. this defines me a few years ago really accurately

this

story time! At college some of us were talking about tattoos we want. Our teacher said “you don’t want to get a tattoo at eighteen because you might change your mind.” I said “I had to decide my entire career path when I was fourteen when I chose my GCSEs. I think I can decide on a bird on my wrist at eighteen.”
~ Mulan

socialjusticeprincesses:

fat-lasts-longer-than-flavor:

cuadradonegro:

obscurewings:

I made a political cartoon for English class about issues in school

It focuses on how teens are expected to make career defining choices with barely any experience, and also how parents often take so much authority that their child’s decision is not actually their own

If this gets some notes then I’ll make a colored version

thank fucking you. this defines me a few years ago really accurately

this

story time! At college some of us were talking about tattoos we want. Our teacher said “you don’t want to get a tattoo at eighteen because you might change your mind.” I said “I had to decide my entire career path when I was fourteen when I chose my GCSEs. I think I can decide on a bird on my wrist at eighteen.”

~ Mulan