ERYKAH B A D U aka fatbellybella aka Serra Bellum aka Maria Mexico aka Annie aka DJ lo down loretta brown aka Badoula
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ERYKAH B A D U aka fatbellybella aka Serra Bellum aka Maria Mexico aka Annie aka DJ lo down loretta brown aka Badoula
I need to cut back on all the r n b I listen too regularly because I live in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with no one in my loft to wrap my thighs around. One month feels farther away than I ever imagined. My mama never warned me about no Virginia to Maine romance.
A mother’s worst nightmare.
She was preaching
this gave me chills
Black woman who lost her son just preached on systemic racism, antiblackness, Black ppls internalized self-hatred and white supremacy.
But some of y’all missed it
HOW TO BE THE GIRL HE WANTS: the first time someone tells you these words I hope you stick out your hand and catch the letters in the air I hope you crunch them in your fist I hope you shove them back into the mouth they flew out of I hope and pray you are not eight years old and hanging off of a shopping cart and groaning about how bored you are, I hope you were not young like I was the first time I read a magazine on a shelf underneath the candy I hope you weren’t young because I still thought everything I read had to be true - but better yet, I hope these words never find you. They tell you to be strong but it’s the little things like this that sit on our hips and tangle in our hair and feel like bees when the night gets dark. It’s the little things we could never ever shake off because the minute we tried, we discovered there were more waiting for us. HOW TO LOOK GOOD FOR SUMMER: smile more often. I hope the first time someone calls you fat, you shimmy your shoulders and wink and feel like a goddess and take it as a compliment. I hope you are not the new kid in a fifth-grade class, glasses on your nose and your hair in tangles. I hope nobody ever touched your tummy and asked if you were embarrassed by the way it jiggles. I hope if you ever hear those words, you reach out your beautiful fingers and touch the temple of the person talking and ask, “Are you embarrassed your brain works like that?” See, I have not gained weight since the eight grade and I’m twenty. I have had about four hundred people tell me I’m skinny but it’s only the two or three voices about the thickness of my thighs and the fat on my hips - these are the only voices that stick. Don’t give them that satisfaction. Take a bath. Stare at your reflection. Count the flecks beside your iris. Promise yourself you’re not going to ruin your life - you won’t let them win. Don’t let that moment cause ripples. Yank out the cruelty from your system. HOW TO HAVE BETTER SEX: stop faking it. Stop engineering your body to be a call-and-response of bruises and shots. I hope you are not fifteen the first time a boy kisses you hard. I hope you do not go home with a bloody mouth and spend the rest of your life thinking love is stained with iron. I hope you are not swallowing your sanity to be with somebody. I hope the first time you let someone touch you, they are someone worthy of your trust - I hope that nobody tries to force you into a label like “frigid” or “slut.” In the animal world, most males have bright plumage so they can attract mates. In humans, we expect ladies to look a certain way. When you break out of the norm, suddenly you’re rattling chains. How dare you not want sex and still look this way. Maybe people are scared of admitting your body has power - it can turn heads in a baggy sweatshirt. Your body doesn’t need a magazine’s confirmation. Your body’s been through hell and still keeps on living. Put on your heels and stalk down the sidewalk. Take off your makeup. Do what you need to feel awesome. HOW TO BE COMFORTABLE IN YOUR OWN SKIN: ignore everything they tell you. Don’t let them in.
Maybe one day I’ll make a list of every single terrible magazine I’ve read. I think I’m gonna start an advice column called “If it makes them money, it’s probably not good.” /// r.i.d (via rauchwolken)
I broke my habit of walking through the halls tuff and guarded with my boney elbows crossed over my abdomen because seventeen or cosmogirl magazine told me it wasn’t welcoming to men. I quit putting my hands in my pockets, deep and safe where I could ground myself, feel my own body heat, the strength of my thigh muscles, for the same reason.
When I was in eleventh grade I started having panic attacks and would scratch my knees and thighs raw to feel grounded, to feel something other than my constant desire to please others.
My mama always told my older sister and I that she didn’t want us reading those magazines. But we convinced her they were for art projects, for collaging our binders and our lamps and notebooks. My mama who I’ve never seen wear a speck of makeup, who I went with to get her ears pierced when she was in her forties. My mama who has never called herself a feminist but screams it with her knowledge of science fiction heroines, of encouraging male quilters in her groups, of urging me to pursue my atypical path.
Thank god for strong women. And for those who support women. Fuck the rest.
IG: PreciousBB
21 yrs young
Jacket: Black Market
Jeans: Black Market
Shoes: Remix
Peace Ring: H&M
Sports Bra: Sports Chek
From Toronto, ON , Taken in Montreal, QC
Photography by: @_sleepyfilms
happy birthday big L
RIP
Reject the myth that monsters are simply the stuff of legends.
"To all the women who silently made history"
Available at the show: “My Eyes Are Up Here” (veils included)
uglygirlsclub - we must make you this crown
WHAT YOU SHOULD DO:
Stay with us and keep calm. The last thing we need when we’re panicking, is to have someone else panicking with us.
Offer medicine if we usually take it during an attack. You might have to ask whether or not we take medicine- heck, some might not; but please, ask. It really helps.
Move us to a quiet place. We need time to think, to breathe. Being surrounded by people isn’t going to help.
Don’t make assumptions about what we need. Ask. We’ll tell you what we need. Sometimes; you may have to ask- but never assume.
Speak to us in short, simple sentences.
Be predictable. Avoid surprises.
Help slow our breathing by breathing us or by counting slowly to 10. As odd as it sounds, it works.
WHAT YOU SHOULDN’T DO: 1. Say, “You have nothing to be panicked about.” We know. We know. We know. And because we know we have nothing to be panicked about, we panic even more. When I realize that my anxiety is unfounded, I panic even more because then I feel like I’m not in touch with reality. It’s unsettling. Scary. Most of the time, a panic attack is irrational. Sometimes they stem from circumstances — a certain couch triggers a bad memory or being on an airplane makes you claustrophobic or a break up causes you to flip your lid — but mostly, the reasons I’m panicking are complex, hard to articulate or simply, unknown. I could tell myself all day that I have no reason to be having a panic attack and I would still be panicking. Sometimes, because I’m a perfectionist, I become even more overwhelmed when I think my behaviour is “unacceptable” (as I often believe it is when I’m panicking). I know it’s all in my mind, but my mind can be a pretty dark and scary place when it gets going. Alternate suggestion: Say, “I understand you’re upset. It is okay. You have a right to be upset and I am here to help.” 2. Say, “Calm down.” This reminds me of a MadTV sketch where Bob Newhart plays a therapist who tells his patients to simply “Stop it!” whenever they express anxiety or fear. As a sketch, it’s funny. In real life, it’s one of the worst things you can do to someone having a panic attack. When someone tells me to “stop panicking” or to “calm down,” I just think, “Oh, okay. I haven’t tried that one. Hold on, let me get out a pen and paper and jot that down, you jerk.” Instead of taking action so that they do relax, simply telling a panicking person to “calm down” or “stop it” does nothing. No-thing. Alternate suggestion: The best thing to do is to listen and support. In order to calm them down without the generalities, counting helps. 3. Say, “I’m just going to leave you alone for a minute.” Being left alone while panicking makes my heart race even harder. The last thing I want is to be left by myself with my troubled brain. Many of my panic attacks spark from over-thinking and it’s helpful to have another person with me, not only for medical reasons (in case I pass out or need water) but also it’s helpful to have another person around to force me to think about something other than the noise in my head. Alternate suggestion: It sometimes helps me if the person I’m with distracts me by telling me a story or sings to me. I need to get out of my own head and think about something other than my own panic. 4. Say, “You’re overreacting.” Here’s the thing: I’m not. Panic attacks might be in my head, but I’m in actual physical pain. If you’d cut open your leg, no one would be telling you you’re overreacting. It’s a common trope in mental health to diminish the feelings or experience of someone suffering from anxiety or panic because there’s no visible physical ailment and because there’s no discernible reason for the person to be having such a strong fear reaction. The worst thing you can tell someone who is panicking is that they are overreacting. Alternate suggestion: Treat a panic attack like any other medical emergency. Listen to what the person is telling you. Get them water if they need it. It helps me if someone rubs my back a little. If you’re in over your head, don’t hesitate to call 911 (or whatever the emergency services number is where you are). But please, take the person seriously. Mental health deserves the same respect as physical health.
CREDIT [X] [X]
Asking for what I need with no disclaimers, no apology for, or self induced guilttrips is fucking exhausting. I’ve never been so bold in my life or felt healthier.
Done this in regards to farm things, living situation things, and to someone who just confessed a crush on me things.
Been told I’m intense so often and I refuse to take that as derogatory. These days it's the only thing that's gotten me anywhere. Owning that shit.
And I will probably mull it all over til the cows come home but I will not be sorry.
Jay Electronica, Dear Moleskine
amen. jay electronica yall. amen.
yes ma'am.