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YOU ARE THE REASON
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@chronicallyspokenfor
#persianparents101
They will make hurtful jokes about you or someone close to you, & when you tell them that it was hurtful- theyāll respond with a simpleĀ āoh that just means youāre too sensitiveā Donāt even try to defend someone close to you for having hurt feelings over something hurtful your parents said, because youāll get hit with theĀ āand who are you? nobody.ā oooh and just wait until you get home, then you get to hear all about it.Ā
Process of Cozy
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Music was composed by video game and film composer @rycamus http://www.ryancamus.com
Jake: Why do we have to have feelings?
Rosa: You donāt. Get rid of them.
Hey, do you know that feeling of hitching up a long skirt so you donāt fall on your face when walking upstairs, and then you immediately become a wretched yet resolute Jane Austen character? Itās a universal thing, right?
Itās like resting a laundry basket against your hip and suddenly youāre a long-suffering peasant woman, wondering if youāll survive the winter.
a shawl wrapped around the shoulders and youāre wandering the moors in a Brƶnte novel, feeling melancholic
Looking out the window at the rain and youāre a love-stricken newlywed wondering when your husband will return from the war.
Long skirt billowing behind you while to go down the stairs, youāre a proper Lady in a flowing ball gown being introduced at a fancy social function.
Hair blowing in the wind and suddenly youāre hovering on a cliff by the sea, staring out into the waves and praying your merchant husband will return from his voyage across the ocean
Hood up against the rain and wind and youāre a medieval abbess defying the weather and travelling on foot with your people to find a place to establish a new community.
Wiping your hands on your apron and youāre an 18th century kitchen girl rushing to let in the delivery boy you secretly love.
The cool fall wind catches your skirt, sends leaves swirling around your feet, and catches your hair and sends it flying behind you, and suddenly youāre a enchantress roaming the woods, daring any man to challenge your power.
Okay but after seeing this I started doing it too and itās amazing how many men Iāve run into bc they expected me to move
Gotta try it
I work (and walk) on a college campus. Iāve lost count of how many men Iāve smacked shoulders with.
Recently, I was standing outside my sonās classroom waiting to talk to his teacher. I stood on one side of the hallway, not even close to the center. At some point, a man came walking along. I was standing right in his path, but the hallway was empty, so I logically expected him to swerve around me. Instead he kept walking right toward me, got to me, and stopped, as if waiting for me to get out of his way. I didnāt; I just smiled politely at him. He finally walked around me, clearly annoyed that I hadnāt leapt out of his manly path.
Now Iām wishing Iād leapt aside, taken off my jacket and laid it on the floor before him, then bowed deeply and said, āMy Liege!ā
I also work at a college campus. I smack shoulders sometimes, but I find that if I stare straight ahead and follow the advice below, people get the heck out of the way.
Honestly this post changed how I carry myself when walking alone in public, or in a situation where Iām the one leading. People definitely move for the murder gaze.
Confirmed. I once had to rush back inside a convention hall as the con was closing in order to a retrieve a sick friendās medication, and I didnāt understand why people in the crowd were jumping out of my way (literallyāone guy vaulted a table) until I realized I was dressed as the Winter Soldier and doing the Murder Walk because thatās just how I walk in those boots. I got the meds, got out, and made a mental note.
I repeated the experiment later, wearing the boots but otherwise my usual clothing and mimicking the expression I thought Iād had at that moment. People parted like I was Charlton Heston.
I now wear that style of boots whenever possible. I recently had a man do a double-take as I walked by and ask me, politely, where I had served because I ālooked like a soldier.ā Iām not current or former military. I was wearing a flowy purple peasant top and looked as un-soldierlike as possible.
Moral of the story: wear comfortable shoes, square your shoulders, and walk like youāve been sent to murder Captain America.
WALK LIKE YOUāVE BEEN SENT TO MURDER CAPTAIN AMERICA
Itās called the Murder Strut.
ITāS BACK!!!!!! I was searching for this to show my daughter the other day and couldnāt find it. Iām so glad ITāS BACK!! I will always reblog the Murder Strut!!
A guy on a bike went around me because he could tell I had no intention of moving. Thanks to this post.
Iāve been doing this for a year now and it is utterly magical. Literally changed my life.
i still think about these earrings a lot
About an hour ago, I was in Walmart looking for my conditioner because today is wash day for my hair. As Iām looking for my product, this older white lady approaches me and she says, āExcuse me, miss. Please donāt be offended by this.ā And usually when white people tell me not to be offended, 9 times out of 10, whatever they are about to say is going to be offensive af.
Anyway, she follows it up with, āMy husband and I just recently won our custody battle with our foster daughter and she means the world to us. Sheās a beautiful African American girl and her hair looks a lot like yours. But Iām afraid because I donāt know what to do with her hair. Itās a lot different from mines and our other children and we are at a total loss. Iāve tried looking up the YouTube videos and my husband went to the braiding shops so they can teach him how to properly braid her hair, but heās still pretty new and it will be a while before he gets used to it. Do you have any tips you can give me? If you donāt have the time, itās okay, really! I just needed a little advice because I want her to look beautiful.ā
Yāall. swear I almost started crying on aisle 6. So for the last 30 minutes, I spent my time talking to her and what products to use and how to properly detangle and comb her hair with the proper tools and what not to do with natural hair. And I showed her a bunch of easier to follow natural hair tutorials on YouTube and saved them for her. (I also had to create a YouTube account for her so she could save it for later.) but omfg, she was so sweet, and I could tell that she listened to every single thing I had to say and she took little notes on her little notepad.
And what really filled my heart was the fact that her husband actually taking classes from African braiding shops. And she showed me a picture of him wearing a little sweater vest and loafers in a little shop surrounded by beautiful black women showing him how to braid black hair and even the lady heās braiding on is guiding his hands. And omfg. Bless these old white people and their black daughter who I know have new loving parents because they are willing to step out of their comfort zone just to make her feel and look beautiful.
I really hope our paths cross again one day, Mrs Cicilia. šš
i talked to someone today, and i told them about what happens at home. i felt the urge to say something, to cry and ask for help. and somehow it just came out. it spilled out. i think i feel better. i think. i wonder if that was a weak or a strong thing to do. to talk about it, i mean. am i weak for not being able to handle it on my own? am i strong for having the courage to tell someone? am i looking for attention? am i the reason for the abuse? is it justified? if i lived with someone else would they feel the need to treat me in the same fashion? am i the problem? or is she? is everything she ever said about and to me, true? hmm.
today it hit me that iām broken. iāve never had the illusion that iām unbroken, and even now with introspection i havenāt a clue as to how broken. but in retrospect i find there are things i can explain now, itās because of my brokenness. it explains why i never felt like i fit. anywhere. why i always felt different. it explained a yearning that i have had for as long as i can remember. im not quite sure when the abuse started or how it progressed to the point that it is at now. but now that i recognize the abuse.. as abuse and not as a norm i can see what an impact it has had on my life. i can see for the first time how growing up with an alcoholic stepfather has been detrimental, i always knew it would be. i just didnāt know how it would be detrimental. people would often say how surprised they were by how i turned out okay. how i turned out normal despite everything. meaning my parents. well news alert, im not okay.. and thats okay. i think. iām still figuring it out. but i am broken. i know that for sure. is it weird to feel reassured by this fact? cause i am. huh. interesting.
i finally understand the sad brothers and sisters. they have unchangable circumstances, it zaps their energy. they have to show joy and genuine happiness to the others in the congregation, for once i understand why its so hard. why it would be easier to stay home and remain in bed. i get it. every thursday and sunday. because sometimes they canāt genuinely conjure up that joy and it makes them feel worse to be among those who can.Ā
i feel alone; i feel like im forever cascading down a river of tears. i need to see the good from my circumstances but just for today iām going to ride this depression wave to the bottom. iāll come back tomorrow.Ā
sometimes I forget to breathe and the room starts to twitch.
i started doubting the truth a while ago.. then it hit me, the truth didnāt change, Jehovah didnāt change. I did. my study habits did. i was slowly adding less and less wood to the fire & all the while wondering why the room was getting colder.Ā
its impossible to be disappointed by Jehovah. If you have been, either you viewed the situation through warped lens or your personal imperfections had a say in your thoughts. either way Satan was involved. keep that in mind, future me.
thereās really no-one i can trust in this world.. thereās no-one who hasnāt disappointed me in some shape or form... only God is there for it all. interesting. we seek a physical form of acknowledgement, trust & assurance. and yet thats exactly what God is not, visible. He still provides and we can only see the effects. the way you can feel the wind and see it blow against the leaves. but you canāt SEE wind. hmmm.
todays turnout has left me severely happy. theres an ache in my back from muscles and bones that have yet to heal and coincide correctly. my face is dry. my hair needs oiling. i feel like i neglect my dogās in terms of my love given. i have ideas spilling over my head without enough time to write them all down. but Iām home. Iām alive. i have food in my stomach and a bed underneath me. life isnāt perfect. but todayās enough. today is enough.Ā
