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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Fieri Frames
Doug Jones
$LAYYYTER
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macklin celebrini has autism
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
noise dept.
EXPECTATIONS
Fai_Ryy
almost home
The Stonewall Inn
Sade Olutola
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Love Begins
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@survivornotvictim
being traumatized doesn’t make you unloveable. having paranoia, anxiety, or ptsd from trauma doesn’t make you unworthy of love. there will be people who will be able to see the love in your heart and return that love back to you full force. remember this, and don’t settle for less.
[A white fortune cookie paper with black text on the front and an icon of a bee. It reads: This week you will be able to handle whatever comes your way.]
Abusers don’t come with warning labels. Abusers don’t hit you on the first date. They don’t write “I will humiliate and belittle you” on their Tinder profiles. They don’t wear “I break things to intimidate my partner” t-shirts. People don’t get trapped in damaging relationships because they saw an abuser coming from 20 yards away and decided “I’m going to date that person anyway”. That’s not how any of this works. In the beginning, abusers can be some of the most thoughtful, attentive people you’ll ever meet. They’re obsessed with you; that’s what makes them so toxic and deadly as time goes on. Abusers buy you flowers. They remember your birthday. They remember to text you “good morning” and “good night”. They listen to your problems, confide in you and share silly inside jokes. They can keep that “loving, doting partner and best friend” mask in place for months or years if they have to. So the first time they scream at you or hit you, you don’t see an abuser. You see your best friend, your confidante, the person who brought you soup when you were sick and always laughs at your stories about your nutty coworker. You tell yourself they just had a bad day. Maybe they were tired, sick, hungry, or under a lot of stress. You know them. You’ve made a life with them. And they’re so sorry and so ashamed of what they did. This isn’t who they are. And so things go back to back to normal for a while. Wonderful, even. This is still one of the best relationships you’ve ever been in, even counting that one incident. You go back to date nights, cozy nights in and 5-hour-long conversations that feel effortless. And then it happens again. And you still don’t see an abuser. You see the person who means the most to you in the whole world. You decide that maybe they’re just struggling. Maybe they have mental health issues. They’ve told you every horrible thing that’s ever happened to them as a child, and maybe it has something to do with that. But either way, they’re not an abuser. Not yet. They’re just a person who needs you more than ever. Then things are good for a while. Then something bad happens. Then it’s good again. Then it’s bad. Good. Bad. Good. Bad. And every time it happens, it gets a little harder to get out. The time you’ve invested in the relationship goes up, and your self-esteem goes down. By the time you realize that, yes, the person you thought you knew is an Abuser with a capital A, you’re in deep. You’re a frog that stood in a pot of water so long it turned you into soup before you even noticed it was getting a little warm. But you didn’t ask for this. And you certainly didn’t know it was coming. We have this image in our heads of what abusers must look like. We picture brawny men with low foreheads and stained white tank tops, screaming at their wives while they drink beer in front of the TV. We think they’re like wildlife, as if we could spot them with the help of a guidebook and know to stay far away from them. But they’re not. Abusers can be anyone. They can be female. They can be accomplished. They can be well-groomed. Queer. Politically far-left. Politically far-right. Artists. Athletic. Charitable. Intelligent. They can come from any walk of life, any spot on the gender spectrum, any religion, any background. It’s not the abused person’s fault for not spotting them - they can’t always be spotted. It’s the abuser’s fault for abusing.
switch your mentality from “i’m broken and helpless” to “i’m growing and healing” and watch how fast your life changes, for the better.
Person who cares about me: *asks if something is wrong when I am clearly upset*
Me:
To the girl dating my rapist Original thing I wrote
Does anyone daydream about confronting their rapist and punching him or something?
Source
In the beginning of my recovery, I would cry a lot at night, wondering who could ever love a girl who jumped when she was touched and flinched at everything. I thought I was broken, too broken to love.
Now, I have a wonderful boyfriend who thinks I’m silly when I apologize for being jumpy, who doesn’t mind a bit when I have to stop. He’s perfect, and he thinks I’m perfect.
It gets better. You’ll find someone who won’t mind when you jump, who learns how to help you the way you need. (and you’ll jump a lot less too. I promise)
You are your own hero. You are beautiful, powerful and invincible.
(via recovering-and-healing)
I never said “no”, or tried to fight back, and I never spoke up about the attack. But I never said “yes”, or chose to undress, and I never did think it was safe to confess his filthy secret. I never said “no”, or tried to fight back but I was so scared, and the night was so black, and regardless of whether I was reckless and wild I was still simply an innocent child. I was still simply an innocent child with whom he somehow felt so beguiled that he believed it was his right to rape her – but it never was, and that statement does not even need a “because”, because the fact that rape is never okay should not have to be justified in some way. My body is mine, it belongs to me alone and I cannot believe anyone could condone the objectification and dehumanization of a girl who is not even old enough to know the sensation of being “provocative”. And even if she were, the blame still would not fall upon her, because every man should know better. Every man should know better, should understand that a lack of consent is a clear enough “no”, for if something is not given, if it is not explicitly shown, only an idiot or criminal would take it as theirs to own – and anyone who rapes is the lowest of both. So while I never said “stop”, or tried to fight back it is fully his fault for initiating the attack to begin with. And while I suppose it is possible for one to lie about sexual assault, the proven percentage of false claims is not high therefore I really cannot comprehend why it is so common to ignore the victim and believe the accused because in doing so, society sides with abuse and that in itself is sickening. So I do not care who you are, whether you are a pauper or star or the goddamn president of the United States – we woman have decided it is time to life these weights from our chests. We are coming with our pitchforks and stakes and when the clock strikes the hour of your downfall and removal from power you will find yourself rotting in the hell of your own creation, suffering eternal damnation for the crimes you so cruelly committed, and there is no chance of being acquitted especially for those who so proudly admitted to their actions as if this were some sort of game. Sure, I never said “no”, or fled his attack but now we have collectedly chosen to fight back – and this may be a “witch hunt”, but the threat from you witches is real and the only thing we are going to “steal” is our right to a safe and empowered life, free from the chains of struggle and strife that the world has so wickedly cast upon us. This may be a “witch hunt”, but if you want to stay safe The simple key to survival is this: don’t fucking rape women to begin with.
#metoo, S.A.C. (via sydney-defying-gravity)
Something upsetting: *happens*
My dissociative self: