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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year

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@theartofmadeline
YOU ARE THE REASON
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Janaina Medeiros
cherry valley forever
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@amor-57
I believe the night before a death anniversary hurts harder than the day of.
Everyone can understand grieving the anniversary date of your loved one being difficult. The night that the tree won in the seemingly low risk game. Itās a date that changed my world forever, my perspective never to be the same again. But the night before, life was blissfully unaware.
The night before I remember not only the day we met, but I remember our lasts. His last Thanksgiving, his last Christmas and New Yearās Eve, the moments we spent crying and laughing and arguing all to kiss and makeup. There was no way for us to know, and that is likely for the best.
I remember one of the last days that I saw you that summer before I left for a semester abroad. My throat tightens every time I do, I remember the dress I wore to purposely tease despite my shaky confidence. I remember the feeling of butterflies from your compliments and sincerity. Iām starting to forget your laugh, and I started to forget your voice a few years ago. Itās taken awhile but I forgive myself for forgetting.
I just hope that this time eleven years ago, the night before, that you were smiling. You had the most contagious smile, even when I was upset with you I couldnāt help but smile back.
It reminds me that we never know when itās our night before.
Make it make sense
She isnāt favoriting one child over the other.
No no, sheās simply putting her focus into the investment most likely to turn. Not the one whose love only burned.
Make it make sense
She isnāt yelling and punishing one just because of mediocre grades.
No no, she is just motivating that one with the techniques that could be forgiven when she prayed.
Make it make sense
She isnāt restricting that one from eating some food.
No no, she is only ensuring that she doesnāt gain fat due to her mood.
Make it make sense
She isnāt judging and criticizing its every move and choice.
No no, she is only expressing her opinions using her god given voice.
Make it make sense
The world inside her head begins to agree with that one until it starts to smother.
No no, how could so much hate come from its own mother?
āI hate people generally, but I like people individually.ā
ā introverts -Ā janesblueheaven (via perfect)
Justin BartelsĀ - Impression (2012)
I canāt 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.
It feels better feeling lonely when you're actually alone vs feeling lonely when you're with people
Still true
America 1968Ā 2015
TIMEās Baltimore Cover With Aspiring Photographer Devin Allen
Source: TIME
Kindergarten Wedding
When I was in kindergarten I got married to someone who was older than me, an entire two years older than me. He didnāt really like me very much, not when I think back about it. It didnāt matter to me though, I was smitten and determined to do what all people who are in love do and get married. Sure, he made fun of the hair on my arms or the chubbiness of my face, but that was okay because everyone knows that teasing and bickering is part of the love package. I was so determined and excited to finally have someone to love who had to love me back, I even stole my cousinās sentimental emerald ring that was a size too small for the ceremony. The event itself? It was a beautiful ordeal with FLY 92.3 playing the music as I walked down the school bus aisle. Kissing was still way too much, so we hugged to make the marriage official.
After my wedding, I remember all the tears and terror of being unable to take the pretty ring off my finger for hours until my aunt finally managed to work her magic. I do feel a smidge bad about how many times Iāve cheated on my school bus husband, especially since I left the school less than two years later. My family joked about the wedding for years afterwards, and even now when itās brought up itāll usually follow up with laughter at how ācuteā it was.
I canāt help but feel bad for little Nikki, especially knowing that my āboycrazyā ways would only intensify the older I got. The desire for love is something that most can understand, especially as the hormones begin to flow and adjust. The part that was less than normal was when I started using my birthdays at age 7 to wish that I was never born. That wish turned to attempting to overdose by taking 30 motrin pills when I was in the 9th grade, shortly after learning about the calming effects of self-harm about a year following my mini stint of bulimia. Despite my mother denying the possibility of my actions as evidenced by my lack of requiring hospital attention, my schoolās psychologist somehow convinced my mother into taking me to therapy a few days later. The self-harm didnāt stop, but I graduated high school with the highest diploma (advanced regents with honors babyyy) and I secured over 80% of my college tuition and board payments in scholarships and grants. For some reason that I didnāt understand at the time, despite the amount of loans I needed to take out being just under what I would have needed for community college, my mother offered to buy me a car if I stayed local. I was convinced by then that if I didnāt do it myself, Iād die from a heart attack by 25. As I write this Iām happily 31 years old, so that did not happen though my quest for love fiercely continued.
In my search for love I found my way to requesting and acquiring a restraining order against the boy I lost my virginity to.
I found a romantic who serenaded me on his guitar with Just the Way You Are by Bruno Mars. I later found during one of his visits to my dorm while looking through his photos on his phone a lovely homemade video of him with his ānothing to worry aboutā bestie from behind. Iām pretty sure this is where my prejudice towards gingers beganā¦
I found a toxically intense on again off again relationship with a guy who would go on to die in a reckless motorcycle accident the semester I was studying abroad.
I found a relationship with a cute DJ who couldnāt name one of my friends after a year of partying, arguing, and playing a fun game of ādid he drive me home soberly or did he lie again?ā
I found a tall jock with a six pack who was really fun to party and hook up with, until he didnāt understand what stop meant.
I found a guy who Iād learn about unrequited love from our on again off again relationship throughout college. The one who comforted me when I had nightmares after getting back from studying abroad, and nightmares after the jock. The one who would sometimes kiss my roommate in front of me when we were off again. The one who stopped my second attempt and was sent to a psychiatric crisis unit our freshman year.
Things calmed down more by the time I began my first year of graduate school. In fact, by the time of my 25th birthday I had a master's degree, a new apartment with two adorable cats and a boyfriend that had begun talking about engagement, and a job offer at my internship. The worst thing at the time of my double celebration with my mother in her fianceās backyard was her speech āfor meā that somehow included her hope for her future graduation. She was not in school at the time, nor is she now but hey maybe one day! That was May 2019. I moved into my dadās apartment on Long Island from my upstate solo apartment following two stalking incidents. One of these incidents was by a patient who was formerly deemed ācriminally insaneā before admitted to the hospital I worked at, found me at a bar and followed me to my apartment the day after he was discharged, then taunted me for about two weeks that he would visit my apartment after being discharged. No worries though, my female supervisor discouraged me from seeking a restraining order and didnāt allow me to work on the other unit, as this was something women should just expect when working in the mental health field. By February 2020 I was living with my dad and a month later the world would shut down.
I was grateful for my 26th birthday. My dad had been in therapy since the world momentarily ended, our relationship grew while we talked about my childhood and he took accountability. Despite having already been diagnosed with Covid-19 at that point, the recovery had been easy enough and I was getting used to counseling clients through telehealth. That was when I decided that it was time to begin facing my trauma with a clinician who specialized in it, to begin working on what started from a kindergarten wedding. Things were beginning to look up.
did you guys hear that not everyone is going to yell at you if you express your emotions
I think the last time I felt this hopeless about life was freshman year
I genuinely think the early 20s are the most confusing and worst years
I mean, don't get me wrong I don't have much experience for the 30's and after, or even mid 20's....but right now is confusing as fuck. I have a job in my field, if I keep the job for two years then I'll have a paid internship for counseling. Now that alone is impressive bc internships, especially in the mental health field, are normally unpaid. I live on my own about 200 miles from my family, pay my own bills and pay for my own car so I can't really afford an unpaid 20-30 hour a week internship. So it's pretty awesome that I have this job. Plus my boss said I'm already hired for when I graduate. I'm a full time grad student taking an extra class a semester so I can get my core classes out of the way before internship. On top of that I also do a graduate assistantship that pays for one of my classes. All of this sounds super great and impressive on paper but then I have a hard time relating to some people my age bc they're still in the unsure and party mode phase. Not saying there's anything wrong with it, but it's hard being on a different level. Another weird and confusing thing is that people who are on my level and around my age are more serious in other aspects too. Like they live with their significant other or are married in a house or have kids. So then I look at my boyfriend and I'm just like um....what. Idk, this is a pointless rant and it's 2:30am and I should be doing a paper but holy crap this is all so much. Can I fast forward three years please? Or at least know everything will be okay?
Over a year later and I still stare at him in awe
and he still gives me butterflies
i feel like this insult went under-appreciated
I am spiraling
My roommate keeps driving drunk when she goes out
Which is like 2-3 times a week& when I confronted her about it she flipped out telling me to shut up and that she knows she has to stop but I'm not her mom š Oh. But I just heard her make a joke about it Hahahah drunk driving is so funny haha....
I feel like a 30 year old living with a college freshman
How are we the same age...
Gotta love feeling like an outsider in your own home
And hearing old "friends" hang out without you This is great gotta love adulthood