beautiful nightmare

girl, 18, travel
thebodyloveblog:

WARNING: Picture might be considered obscene because subject is not thin. And we all know that only skinny people can show their stomachs and celebrate themselves.


Well I’m not going to stand for that. 


This is my body. Not yours. MINE. Meaning the choices I make about it, are none of your fucking business. Meaning my size, IS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS.
If my big belly and fat arms and stretch marks and thick thighs offend you, then that’s okay. I’m not going to hide my body and my being to benefit your delicate sensitivities.
This picture is for the strange man at my nanny’s church who told me my belly was too big when I was five.
This picture is for my horseback riding trainer telling me I was too fat when I was nine.
This picture is for the girl from summer camp who told me I’d be really pretty if I just lost a few pounds
This picture is for all the fucking stupid advertising agents who are selling us cream to get rid of our stretch marks, a perfectly normal thing most people have (I got mine during puberty)
This picture is for the boy at the party who told me I looked like a beached whale.
This picture is for Emily from middle school, who bullied me incessantly, made mocking videos about me, sent me nasty emails, and called me “lard”. She made me feel like I didn’t deserve to exist. Just because I happened to be bigger than her. I was 12. And she continued to bully me via social media into high school. 
MOST OF ALL, this picture is for me. For the girl who hated her body so much she took extreme measures to try to change it. Who cried for hours over the fact she would never be thin. Who was teased and tormented and hurt just for being who she was.
I’m so over that.
THIS IS MY BODY, DEAL WITH IT.
and FUCK YOU ALL who tried to degrade my being and sense of self with your hurtful comments and actions. 
GUESS WHAT IT DIDN’T WORK HAHAHAHAH
xoxoxoxoxoox

thebodyloveblog:

WARNING: Picture might be considered obscene because subject is not thin. And we all know that only skinny people can show their stomachs and celebrate themselves. Well I’m not going to stand for that. This is my body. Not yours. MINE. Meaning the choices I make about it, are none of your fucking business. Meaning my size, IS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS.

If my big belly and fat arms and stretch marks and thick thighs offend you, then that’s okay. I’m not going to hide my body and my being to benefit your delicate sensitivities.

This picture is for the strange man at my nanny’s church who told me my belly was too big when I was five.

This picture is for my horseback riding trainer telling me I was too fat when I was nine.

This picture is for the girl from summer camp who told me I’d be really pretty if I just lost a few pounds

This picture is for all the fucking stupid advertising agents who are selling us cream to get rid of our stretch marks, a perfectly normal thing most people have (I got mine during puberty)

This picture is for the boy at the party who told me I looked like a beached whale.

This picture is for Emily from middle school, who bullied me incessantly, made mocking videos about me, sent me nasty emails, and called me “lard”. She made me feel like I didn’t deserve to exist. Just because I happened to be bigger than her. I was 12. And she continued to bully me via social media into high school.

MOST OF ALL, this picture is for me. For the girl who hated her body so much she took extreme measures to try to change it. Who cried for hours over the fact she would never be thin. Who was teased and tormented and hurt just for being who she was.

I’m so over that.

THIS IS MY BODY, DEAL WITH IT.

and FUCK YOU ALL who tried to degrade my being and sense of self with your hurtful comments and actions.

GUESS WHAT IT DIDN’T WORK HAHAHAHAH

xoxoxoxoxoox

On getting exactly what I wanted and feeling terrified

thebodyloveblog:

I saw Brandon from HONY just down the block from where I live.

I was super excited, and approached him asking if I could get a picture of him. He was so nice, and agreed readily. I snapped him taking a picture of a young man in a wheelchair. He then asked me if he could take my picture. OF…

You want to arm me? Good. Then arm me with a school psychologist at my school who has time to do more than test and sit in meetings about testing.

Arm me with enough counselors so we can build skills to prevent violence, have meaningful discussions with students about their future and not merely frantically adjust student schedules like a Jenga game.

Arm me with social workers who can thoughtfully attend to a student’s and her family’s needs so I. Can. Teach.

Arm me with enough school nurses so that they are accessible to every child and can work as a team with me rather than operate their offices as de facto urgent care centers.

Arm me with more days on the calendar for teaching and learning and fewer days for standardized testing.

Arm me with class sizes that allow my colleagues and I to know both our students and their families well.

Arm my colleagues and I with the time it takes to improve together and the time it takes to give great feedback to students about their work and progress.

Until you arm me to the hilt with what it will take to meet the needs of an increasingly vulnerable student population, I respectfully request you keep your opinions on schools and our safety to yourself, NRA. Knock it off.

—Mary Cathryn Ricker, President of the St. Paul Federation of Teachers.  (via reverberatingowl)

Do you ever think about all the people who you might have fallen in love with if only you’d taken a different way home or stood a little longer in the bread aisle at the supermarket? All the people who might have been an integral part of your life but instead you’ll never know them. The unimaginable impact that our mundane choices have on our lives really gets to me. Think of how many times I might have died if I’d made different choices. Maybe I’d be homeless. Maybe I’d be famous. Maybe I’d be rich. Sometimes I’m so overwhelmed by the impact of my choices that I can’t choose anything at all because I’m afraid today will be the day that I make the choice that changes everything.

—Unknown (via sundaylatte)

(Source: mycroft, via watermelon-bean)

  • me: im so tired, i could collapse into bed and sleep for a year..
  • me: gets in bed
  • me: how was earth created
  • me: who made microwaves
  • me: how does the internet even work
  • me: i'm hungry
  • me: feels bad about something i did 4 years ago
  • me: remembers 73 unfinished tasks
  • me: too tired to sleep

llieo:

holy fuck we have our windows open and we heard a blood curling scream so naturally I went to look out the window because wow is someone getting stabbed?? and it is just my neighbour on his knees staring at a KFC chicken bucket spilt all over his driveway

(via watermelon-bean)