Vintage 90s Baby Pink Chunky Platform Pumps
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sheepfilms
Sade Olutola

@theartofmadeline
The Bright Sessions
Fieri Frames
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

if i look back, i am lost
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🩵 avery cochrane 🩵
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todays bird
art blog(derogatory)
Cosimo Galluzzi
occasionally subtle

Jimmy Eat World
Mike Driver
EXPECTATIONS
Interview Vampire Daily
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!

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@dasiygirl
Vintage 90s Baby Pink Chunky Platform Pumps
❤ Kawaii Box ❤ The Cutest Subscription Box ❤
Slowly filling up my work wardrobe starting with new things from @bonnechancecollections and littleforbig
Bunny lover
I’m fixing my room again and again but I REALLY LIKE HOW IT LOOKS LIKE THISSSS
Me and Cream cheese having a little snack ⭐️
Silver and sweet pink | karina_galstyan_fashion
I’m the founder of the “I suck at keeping the conversation going, but I really like talking to you” club
Game 3
Speaking of pretty flowers, may I present to you the “Eighteen Scholars”, the flower of my heart-a variation of Camellia japonica L. Its uniqueness lies in the layers and layers of petals-one flower can hold as much as 130 petals.
Named “Eighteen Scholars” in Chinese because at the most, one bush can have up to eighteen of these pretty darlings :3
I want to tell y’all a story about supporting and loving your partner, starring my amazing wife.
I’ve mentioned before that I had an eating disorder for many years, and though I consider myself “recovered” there are aspects of my disorder that I still struggle with today — being quite a bit heavier than my wife is one of them.
When my wife and I moved in together back when we were still girlfriends, I was at my skinniest. She used to pick me up all the time and lift me off the ground, and I’d laugh and kick out my legs ‘cause I was just delighted to have her holding me.
But I started gaining weight as I went through recovery, and where once we were pretty close in size, I began to get bigger. And bigger. And bigger. And she remained her naturally petite self. I began to almost dread when she’d try to pick me up, sure that this time she wouldn’t be able to get me off the ground.
But every time, even if I protested, she’d lift me up and say something like: “See, you’re not so big that I can’t lift you!”
And one time I just blurted out: “But someday I’m going to be so fat you won’t be able to.”
She looked me dead in the eye and said: “No you won’t. Because if that ever happens, I’ll start working out.”
It was the best possible thing she could have said to me, because she wasn’t saying I wasn’t going to get fat — neither of us knew that for sure. She was just saying that I was never going to be “too fat” for her.
And every time I worry about getting bigger, I remember that I’ll never be so big that she can’t lift me, because baby knows how much I love being held, and she’ll change her own habits to ensure that I never feel “too big” or “too heavy” because in her eyes I’ll never be “too” anything.
Anyway, there’s a moral to this story: Find yourself a partner who will never consider you an excess. You should never be “too much” to someone who loves you — too big, too loud, too passionate, too awkward, whatever your “too” happens to be. And even as you change and grow (in my case, literally), the right person will be there through the changes, to tell you that you’re always just right for them.
My strongwoman, the wind beneath my wings, the arms under my ass. 😍😍 😍
Ouran High School Host Club | Cheery Blossoms