gaysnark:

here have one of my favorite songs

Garden in the Ceiling by world’s end girlfriend

femme-boudica:

There are too many of you on here who post too often about how much they hate their bodies. So many of you, young beautiful women hating yourselves because of your assets. I spent the past sixteen years of my life hating my body, and granted- there are days where I feel like a baby elephant who escaped from the Zoo and swallowed a planet, but I know that when I feel like that, I must love myself. Because myself Is all I’ve got. I mean think: what if this is all we get? What if right now, this body, this soul, this world what if this is out only chance? And we spent it reading the nutrition labels on the backs of energy bars and sucking in our guts to try and impress people we don’t even like.These past sixteen years have been filled with me hating every part of my body. Me sitting in my room, crying on the floor because I was sure that no one would ever love me. They were spent filled with hate, envy and embarrassment. There were so many things I missed out on because I was too humiliated to be seen at my size, and you know what? I AM SICK OF IT.Who ever said I wasn’t pretty? Who ever said being fat was a bad thing? From the age of 6, you planted into my mind that I was wrong, I was not accepted, I was different in a bad way and I needed to change. Now, let me tell you when you “hold the cheese” on a seven year olds toasted cheese, It can seriously mess a girl up in later years. And that it did. The word “fat” shouldn’t hurt as much as It does. Why is “fat” worse than: cruel, vain, shallow, bitchy, and deceitful? It’s not. Society has made us see it that way, but honey, you are beautiful at any size. Your words caused me serious damage, three schools and four councilors and a butt load of chocolate ice cream.. Yes, I have thunder thighs and I’m pretty sure I get chaffing when I walk to the fridge.. Yes, if Jurassic Park was real, I would feed the whole velocaraptor clan for millennia. Yes, when I sit down I cant see my belly button, or anything else for that matter. And Yes, I would be the first to die on the hunger games– but you know what? I am me. Fat little, boring old me and I will always be this way. I’m too sick, to tired of hating myself, and I hope you can follow me with that, darlings. Lets start a revolution. Lets stop idolizing the photo shopped models on the front covers of teen-vogue. Lets stop crouching over toilet bowls with our hands down out throats, crying because we did not feel enough. Let’s stop our baby sisters, cousins, daughters – the next generation of kick butt females from feeling that they are not real women, that they will never be loved because they cant fit into a size 8 pair of jeans. There is too much hate in the world without our help.Love. Love is what we need.

aw, i remember this!

fitfor2012:

BLESS YOU