Amber/Az, non-binary, they/them. Books. TV. Movies. So many things and everything in between. If you need to talk I'm always available just message me. You are not alone.
I spent some time in a Jehovah's Witness church. They're exceptionally skilled at recruiting people into their church. (And I was an ATHEIST)
I left after a couple months, I stayed just long enough to see that they explicitly believe women are inferior to men, and of course, that homosexuality is a sin on par with murder.
The whole missionary door to door thing is NOT how Jehovah's Witnesses recruit. That is how they convince their members that the world is out to get them. One of the first things they teach is that Jesus requires you to try to convert non Christians to the faith. (They say non Christian but mean non JW.)
Then they say, "look how people treat us, just for the crime of wanting to save their soul"
They have long time church members tutor the incoming members to smooth the process over. They're trained to smooth away any doubts you may have about the church.
It is a textbook cult but because it's a Christian cult, nobody will do anything about it.
I just wanted to share, in case no one realizes how messed up JW can be, my family only left after the elders followed around my teenage aunts and other young women to "ensure they weren't sinning" and my great-grandparents STILL stayed!
Exmormon here, this is TRUE, to reiterate from satanslover above, “The whole missionary door to door thing is NOT how Jehovah's Witnesses recruit. That is how they convince their members that the world is out to get them.”
The same is true of mormonism. I know how annoying the missionaries are, but please take just ten seconds to be polite to them instead, please support cult victims 💖💖
I notice alot of my followers on here skipping these posts just to mess with my lgbt ones, suspiciously the white popular ones.
Heres a not so friendly reminder, as an lgbt metis person, i dont give a single fuck what your blog is themed or if this is too painful for you to look at. Reblog this post. Reblog this post with the sources of the 751 children who were found.
Your compliance and silence as well as the compliance and silence of your ancestors is what allowed these schools to open and kill first nations children. The children of MY people.
Dont follow me if you cant reblog this post or the one with sources to your political blog or your most popular blog. Add trigger warnings if you must but if your political blog is only focused on the harms you personally face like being lgbt then you need to see some bigger pictures and stop being afraid of angering your racist mutural or actually saying some shit about racism. If you can reblog some antifa graphics or add blm to your bio to be a surface level ally, you can reblog some sources on the genocide first nations people faced and still face today.
i apologize for being nosy, and please don't answer this if you don't want to, but i remember a few years ago you had identified as asexual and i was wondering if you still do? i did for a long time but i'm with a new partner now and i'm starting to wonder if maybe the connection just wasn't right with anyone before and that's why i wasn't into having sex? is that normal? i mean, i identified that way for YEARS so i'm just. very confused at myself.
I mean listen, I’m in my 30s. These labels don’t mean a lot to me anymore. Like, literally everything is normal. Everything is fine so long as nobody’s feelings are being hurt. Don’t worry about some label that used to be useful maybe not being useful anymore. Thank it for its service and let it retire. Maybe one day it will be useful again. That doesn’t change anything about you, because you are, and always have been, a complex, multifaceted, constantly changing kaleidoscope of emotional and sexual needs, and “asexual” is just a word that helped you make sense of it for a while.
Like, y’all, give yourselves a break. Sex is complicated. Some people are straight their whole lives, and then they meet one person who changes everything. Some people are one thing for a while, then they’re another thing, then they go back to being the first thing. Some people stay one thing forever. Some people are really into something in their 20s that grosses them out to even think about for the rest of their lives. All if it’s normal.
The words you put on your orientation are not elementally a part of you. They are tools, and as tools they should serve a function. That function can be to help you understand and categorize your own experiences and desires. It can be to help you find a community. It can be to help you get laid. It can just be to set social expectations. These words can be a revelation when you first apply them to yourself: they can be life-saving. But you are not beholden to them.
“Idk, I thought of myself as ace for a long time, but I’m into my current partner, so like, enh? I’m having a good time and my partner and I are both happy, so I guess labels aren’t really useful to me right now” can be all you have to say on the subject.
Long letter to myself about growing up trans without knowing it and accepting myself and sharing bc pride inspired it so #happypride
.
.
.
tw: mentions of self hate, self harm, and some other stuff that might be stressful but it doesnt get specific or graphic
.
.
.
.
Dear me,
I know Pre-k is scary. I know that you’re worried about change and how much your life is going to be different. Sorry to tell you that happens every school year, and it happens every time there’s a change in your adult life too. It’s okay. I know that when the class is playing house the other kids tell you that you can’t play-pretend to be the dad, the uncle, or the brother so you decide to be the pet- either cat or dog you don’t care. I know that you become friends with two boys and don’t really ever pay attention to the girls in the class unless they speak to you first. I know that you prefer Pokemon, Power Rangers, playing in the creek, and riding the four wheeler to dolls or dress up. I know that even your friends and cousins would tell you that you had to be the pink or yellow Power Ranger when you were playing and wouldn’t even let you pretend to be Blue and you all hated the Blue one. I know it made you want to cry because it was the time you got to pretend to be anyone you wanted and they were still trying to fit you into a role that you didn’t get to choose. I know that you didn’t understand exactly why, because how could you? You were five and everyone told you were a “tomboy” like that was supposed to explain everything. It’s okay.
Dear me,
I know everything became more confusing in third grade when the nice fifth-grade girl became your friend. I know that she was so nice and you thought she was pretty. I know that made you think there must be something wrong with you. Not only because you had a crush but because you wondered why you didn’t look pretty like her if you were both girls. I know that she made you feel like you were an imposter but you didn’t have that word to use to express yourself. I know that you were secretly angry when she told you she had a crush on your neighbor and I know we didn’t know why we were angry at the time so we played the role we were given and encouraged her. I know that you lied when she asked you if you had a crush on any boys. I read our diary about that a few years later and I know we just copied girls in our grade and said we had the same crushes. It’s okay.
Dear me,
I know that fourth-grade is the worst so far. You were told that you had to start being friends with girls and when your friends that had been sleeping over for years slept over now you had to wear shorts to bed. I know you thought they were idiots because why would you and your friend even think that about each other? No one had told you anything yet but there were new rules now because he was a boy and it was no longer appropriate. I know that the girls that you tried to be friends with were mean and made fun of you because you weren’t like them. I know that they made you watch movies you didn’t want to because they were scary and they laughed at you when you cried. I know that they wanted to shop at Claire’s and do their nails and that when they talked you really never listened to them because you didn’t understand.
I know that when you started playing softball instead of tee-ball you felt so incredibly overwhelmed and out of place. I know that when you started to make friends with the other people on the team that liked wearing boys clothes, liked cartoons and playing outside you finally felt a little more at ease and felt like you really had friends since the boys from Pre-K stopped talking to you.
Dear me,
I know that sixth grade is even worse than fourth and fifth. I know that all of the girls you made friends with acted like they had never known you. I know that you loved having your friends from softball at school at least. I know that it changed when your one friend said they wanted to kill themselves so you told your mom. I know that she freaked out and never spoke to you again. I know that until your teacher reached out about joining the DI team you felt so incredibly lonely. It’s okay. I know that you became great friends with a girl that was silly like you and that you spent two years closer than anyone could possibly be, you thought. I know that when she went to high school you didn’t think anything would change. I know that you made another friend who felt and acted like you in your grade and you guys grew so close. I know that they were your lifeline and that you still felt lost. We’re still friends today so really it’s okay.
Dear me,
I know you lost everything including yourself in eighth-grade. I know that you feel like a shell and there is no one around to care. I know that when that man killed your dog you were so beyond broken that we became angry and numb to handle the pain, anger, fear, loneliness, confusion, and self-loathing. It’s okay. I know that the school counselor told you we have Depression and you felt like you committed a crime. I know that we cried and she accused you of proving her right. I know that you were so afraid you were going to be in trouble that you told Her we were fine and the counselor was exaggerating. I know that the poems we were writing were exaggerated versions of the very real truth. I know that the counselor failed so miserably that we no longer trust any of them again.
Dear me,
I know that you never really processed being in ninth-grade, or really tenth for that matter. I know that even though you had been friends for years, your friend that was a year older started to treat you like you were the most annoying person in the world out of the blue. I know that she dug into every insecurity you had about yourself and you still couldn’t hate her. I know you screamed into the woods asking what you did wrong and that you were so afraid to talk to her in case she made you feel worse about yourself. I know it left you confused and hollow even when you thought you couldn’t be any more than you had been for years.
I know that you stared at yourself in the mirror every night, sobbing, scratching, and hating yourself. I know that you wondered why you weren’t pretty and why you didn’t look like other girls or feel like other girls must feel. I know you wondered why no boys liked you and what must be wrong with you. I know you hated your chest. Sorry to say that doesn’t go away.
Dear me,
I know the past few years you wish you hadn’t been born. I know you’re too afraid to hurt the people you love to do anything like that though. I know really you just wish how you’re feeling would just stop for a minute so that you can breathe. I know that eleventh-grade is the hardest academically, socially, and personally so far. I know that you felt like He hated you and was disappointed in you. I know that you were afraid of him and that no one took you seriously. I know that he had a way of looking at you that made you feel five again. I know he never hurt you but his threats were enough to have you living in fear. I know that She was so busy dealing with her own things that She didn’t really see. I know that you carved PERFECT at night because at least you could control that much. I know that you thought something was wrong with you. It’s okay.
Dear me,
I know senior year is big. I know that you were so tired of the fog and the self-hate and the tears that you finally were brave enough to talk to your doctor. I know that all he did was give you a giant prescription and sent you on your way. I know that they start to help but I know that they also start to take away our personality. I know that we start to care less about everything. I know that we feign confidence because the dose is too high and the doctor never bothers to change it or recommend a therapist. I know that eventually we lose that little last bit of ourselves and just start copying others. I know that we don’t care where we go to college. I know that we don’t care what our major is. I know that we really just don’t care anymore. That’s okay.
Dear me,
College really did a number on us. I know that we wanted to feel loved and supported so badly that we didn’t focus on learning. I know that we started talking to every boy we thought was cute. I know that they were all trash bags. I know that the first boyfriend was charming but judged you. I know that we changed to share his interests because then he wouldn’t leave us like our friend had right? I know that we know he cheated on us but we were so insecure that we ignored it or forgave him. I know that he broke our heart. I know that we were so broken again that we let ourselves listen to the next one. I know that we let that one break us more. I know that it felt so great to be needed and loved that we ignored all the signs and the fighting. I know that we let him tell us what to do and how to act. I know that we went off our medication because of his conspiracies. I know you told him you were depressed and he yelled at you. I know that you were as afraid of him as you were for him. I know we left in the middle of the night and he walked to our campus the next day. I know you tried therapy to process the abuse but I know it brought up too many things we weren’t ready to process.
Dear me,
I know that we’re doing so much better now. I know that this One has been helping us heal. I know that he’s teaching you so many things and that we’re starting to understand things about ourself. I know that there are new terms that we’ve learned and new identities that we never even fathomed. I know it’s overwhelming but I promise it’s okay. I know that when you tell the One about ourself it feels like an answer. I know that it was scary to ask him to use neutral pronouns despite knowing that he would understand. I’m so glad that we did. I know that we’re still healing, understanding, and processing everything and that some days are easier than others. I know that we wish we had know all of this about ourself back in elementary school but we have made it this far and we will keep growing. We’ll be okay.
Jorge Gonzalez, suffered a broken neck, and a compressed spine at the hands of 3 sheriff deputies in Texas. He couldn’t even hold his head up for this mugshot…so they had to hold it up for him. They actually thought the mugshot was more important than a hospital visit.
After a deputy tripped him he hit his face hard and went unconscious. They tased him couple of times “to wake him up”.
He was left paralyzed neck down, went through a series of surgeries, and was in ICU on the ventilator for over a month after the arrest.
According to the hospital he went over 26 hours in Hidalgo County jail without necessary medical attention that could have saved his life.
That comment reminds me of another comment for which I can’t recall the source; paraphrased, “The best CGI now will always look outdated ten years from now, but awesome drawings will always look like awesome drawings.”
The thing I hate most about Disney not doing 2D anymore is that the box office disappointment of Winnie the Pooh (2011) (which is adorable and hilarious btw if you’ve never seen it) is often pointed to as the final nail in the coffin
Y’all released a 1 hr and 9 minute cutesy collection of Pooh Bear short stories about trying to find Eeyore’s lost tail on the SAME DAY AS THE FINAL HARRY POTTER FILM, of course it didn’t do well
AND y’all went up against YOURSELVES because Cars 2 had just opened like three weeks before and was very much still in theaters
It was not the animation, it was never the animation
I think this was an issue for The Princess and the Frog too. Not only did it come out the same month as the 2nd Chipmunk movie (which is trash but it made double what TPATF did).
You remember what came out literally one week after it?
Avatar. It went up against what was the highest grossing film of all time (until Endgame). They played themselves.
why limit yourself between choosing between a pretty feminine aesthetic or a dark one? if persephone can be the goddess of spring & queen of the underworld at the same time so can you
anyway, my older sister was adopted when she was almost 16 (kinda on accident too), and because of that she got away from an abusive household, went from barely passing classes to being an honour student, and launching into a career where she’s happy and healthy and paying her own way. just two years of parenting where she had 3 meals a day, a bedtime, and parents to help and protect her changed her life radically. Plus, i got an older sister
adopt teenagers.
the darkness that stares back @their-misplaced-wings - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
