When you realize that cutie pie nerd boy will never love you
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When you realize that cutie pie nerd boy will never love you
You know you go to a small-ass school when a random professor asks you where your ex-boyfriend has been for the past year
I want to give a special shout out to my two women for snapping me out of that irrational crush
I can now resume being Miss Havisham and Estella
Thanks gals :*
I think it's funny that in our culture a considerable amount of cis hetero men pride themselves for having "skills" in picking up women
While women across all spectrums pride themselves for having skills in avoiding these advances.
What's better is that I've correctly identified that one is an actual skill, crafted from years of timidity and learning to stand up for oneself.
Society would be better if we accepted that marriage isn't about true love or princesses
But rather, marriage is about trusting someone enough to respect your DNR
Which quite frankly, is something that should not be undervalued.
Got stood up for two standing dates today and that's just fucking annoying
Today a male friend and I were having a conversation and somehow we got on the topic of menstruation,
And my friend who is in college and is receiving an education had absolutely no idea that menstruation has been used as a form of othering in many cultures for the majority, if not the entirety, of history.
He was completely surprised when I explained the root of the term "hysterectomy".
He was completely unaware that a natural, biological function in the female body has been and still is treated as shameful contamination.
A part of me wants to see the light side of this and accept this as somehow comforting: that this history is so absurd (which it is) that it never even crosses some people's minds.
But mostly, I am overcome by a wave of understanding of male privilege.
I was initially frustrated with him, but I realize I cannot be.
It's not his fault that he's never been shamed by something he cannot control.
It's not his fault that he's never been told "we don't talk about that".
It's not his fault that he's never had to plan a week of outfits based on discretion.
But I really hope he learned something today.
Although, sadly, I don't think he did.
the smooth jazz on the suicide hotline is giving me life right now
I swear as soon as they will let me I am going to get a fucking hysterectomy because I want to look this goddamn thing in the face and confront that which has tortured me for so long.
I really fucking miss the college friends I had when I was a freshman. I wish things had gone differently and I wish that I had not needed to leave the group because of a failed romantic relationship. I wish they had reached out to me and told me they could have still been my friends. I wish they hadn't chosen him. I wish I had pushed harder to stay in contact with them. I wish I hadn't let him decide who I could talk to and where I could be.
People tell you to never date in a friend group and those people are right.
I really miss those people. I miss being included in something. I miss the three pretentious men debating deontology. I miss the ladies who love comic books and international politics. I miss the guy who is also a cat. I miss random deep conversations with a pre-med artist.
If I knew then what I know now I would have listened more and spoken less. I would have not cut people off because I was tired. I would have joined the debates.
The fucked up part is that it isn't even the fucking anxiety that hurts the most
But rather that fact that I've been scratching up my back, face, arms, everything for years
The fact that I had no fucking eyebrows for two years because i pulled them all out
The fact that you can PHYSICALLY, VISUALLY SEE the manifestation of it
And nobody's had the fucking decency to ask how I'm feeling.
I've literally bled in front of people and they've looked past it for YEARS.
That's what really hurts my feelings.
It's funny because the beauty industry is so obsessed with Marilyn but at this point not even Marilyn was Marilyn enough.
Her lips were never that red and her eyeliner was never that thick and her waist was never that trim.
Even our beauty icons are distorted.
I hate when the argument for why men should fight against sexual abuse or domestic violence is "how would you feel if that was your sister/mother/daughter/girlfriend" because that just reinforces the notion that men should only be upset when conceptualizing that their property was violated.
And it also reinforces the notion that men have to be these strong, hotheaded, stone walls that exist only to protect and enclose the feminine, delicate flowers of the world.
How about "fight against sexual abuse because we should work to decrease violence in the world"?
Or even "fight against sexual abuse because you wouldn't want to be abused."
Fucking pumped for Halloween 2014
In honor of the first day of BFRB Awareness Week, I made a powerpoint of an overview of Body Focused Repetitive Behaviors (BFRBs). Keep in mind that this is just an overview.
As someone with trichotillomania I really want my followers to understand how important BFRB Awareness Week is to me. I have hardly seen any good informational posts about it other than this one which does a good job at generally describing BFRBs. Please read through these slides, visit the sources provided, and reblog to educate others and spread the word!
Holy shit there's a name for this
I thought I was just bat shit crazy
PSA:
The appropriate response when your friend (who is OBVIOUSLY NERVOUS) tells you something about her identity is NOT "no you're not".
Because maybe she's been struggling with finding a word for herself for months now. Because maybe she's spent countless days brooding over why she is the way she is. Because maybe she's doubted herself EVERY SINGLE TIME she has told someone.
Because maybe she knew she couldn't tell you because she knows that you're traditional and religious and wouldn't understand. Because maybe she knew that you'd take it with a grain of sand.
Thanks, friend. Months and probably years actually of building myself to a point where I can love one part of myself and own it have come crashing before me.
I never was good at taking criticism.