If you tell me that you live in a “really progressive gay friendly city/town/whatever”, I will laugh, loudly and hideously, in your face and wonder if you have any legitimate PoC friends (and not just the ones you list off as tokens when it’s convenient).
- Person: Rape is just surprise sex.
- Me: Killing you would just be giving you a surprise nap.
Just Me: Fat people are liars. No one that large is happy with their body.
I almost laugh every time I see a “fat acceptance” post where someone in a double digit size is talking about how much they love their body. Sorry. You’re a fucking liar. No one that large loves their body. You’re just using that “love” as a pathetic excuse to stuff your face.
This is hilarious because I am the biggest I’ve ever been and I ain’t ever loved myself so fucking much.
My clit gets hard when I look in the mirror. I rub my belly and I squeeze my ass and just cry wondering how perfection exists on this plane.
But it does boo, and it’s called “me.”
But why?
Why would we lie, when we both know you wouldn’t believe it either way?
When we both know you had your mind made up long before asking if we were happy.
Why would we lie?
Because you think we really want the approval and acceptance of hateful, self loathing trolls like you?
Why do you think your acceptance is that important to us?
I promise you it’s not.
What they really meant to say was “I don’t understand how fat people can love their body when I can’t love mine.” Projecting much?
Every person who has ever said this around me has deep seated body shame. I hope OP gets some help, stops saying horrible things about fat people to try and make themselves feel better.
The bold
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(Reblogged from grrlyman)
You are terrifying and strange and beautiful. Something not everyone knows how to love.
Warsan Shire (via cybergirlfriend)
(Source: hellanne)
Being silly with your best friend
Some girls:
Us:
(Source: born19something4)
(Reblogged from woc-resist)
glittergeek: one of my first memories is sitting in a stroller at the mall, a woman...
one of my first memories is sitting in a stroller at the mall, a woman walked up to me and accusingly said
WHAT YOU EAT?
i looked back, puzzled and, y’know five years old
she repeated herself
WHAT DID YOU EAT?
i remember thinking hard about the answer to this question
she turned to my…
