I'm a twenty-one year old fatty bratty femme queer poly aquarian feminist killjoy with an adventurous mind and a vulnerable heart. I love to drive, write, smoke weed and drink root beer. briana//21//atlanta

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where we are / what we have

I’ll never punish my daughter for saying no.

The first time it comes out of her mouth, I’ll smile gleefully. As she repeats “No! No! No!” I’ll laugh, overjoyed. At a young age, she’ll have mastered a wonderful skill. A skill I’m still trying to learn. I know I’ll have to teach her that she has to eat her vegetables, and she has to take a nap. But “No” is not wrong. It is not disobedience.

1. She will know her feelings are valid.
2. She will know that when I no longer guide her, she still has a right to refuse.

The first time a boy pulls her hair after she says no, and the teacher tells her “boys will be boys,” we will go to her together, and explain that my daughter’s body is not a public amenity. That boy isn’t teasing her because he likes her, he is harassing her because it is allowed. I will not reinforce that opinion. If my son can understand that “no means no” so can everyone else’s.

3. She owes no one her silence, her time, or her cooperation.

The first time she tells a teacher, “No, that is wrong,” and proceeds to correct his public school, biased rhetoric, I’ll revel in the fact that she knows her history; that she knows our history. The first time she tells me “No” with the purpose and authority that each adult is entitled, I will stop. I will apologize. I will listen.

4. She is entitled to her feelings and her space. I, even a a parent, have no right to violate them.
5. No one has a right to violate them.

The first time my mother questions why I won’t make her kiss my great aunt at Christmas, I’ll explain that her space isn’t mine to control. That she gains nothing but self doubt when she is forced into unwanted affection. I’ll explain that “no” is a complete sentence. When the rest of my family questions why she is not made to wear a dress to our reunion dinner. I will explain that her expression is her own. It provides no growth to force her into unnecessary and unwanted situation.

6. She is entitled to her expression.

When my daughter leaves my home, and learns that the world is not as open, caring, and supportive as her mother, she will be prepared. She will know that she can return if she wishes, that the real world can wait. She will not want to. She will not need to. I will have prepared her, as much as I can, for a world that will try to push her down at every turn.

7. She is her own person. She is complete as she is.

I will never punish my daughter for saying no. I want “No” to be a familiar friend. I never want her to feel that she cannot say it. She will know how to call on “No” whenever it is needed, or wanted.


written by Lessons I Will Teach, Because the World Will Not — Y.S. 

(Source: poetryinspiredbyyou, via chewinghosts)

I rise from my worst disasters, I turn, I change.
written by Virginia Woolf, from The Waves (via creatingaquietmind)

(Source: shakespearewasaunicorn, via sentimental-tunes)

When I remember him kissing my shoulders it comes in flashes:
splashes in a dark pool. Hopelessly uncool,
grainy footage, like a security camera, and I
am hammered,
legs spread, head spinning:
“someone please tell me you want me.
Tell me you love me.”

.

There are three and a half billion women alive
and I could die here,
sipping a beer, curled around barstools, wondering what they all do
to live better than me. They make living look so easy.
And now it is midnight and the pool tiles reflect light like mirrors.
I am asking him favors. My voice wavers and he
is trying to pull a hand through my tangled hair
but it’s hopeless. I won’t forget this.


written by

Mistakes I Made While Drunk

(Source: allmymetaphors, via vastandshitty)

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.
written by Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets (via observando)

(via giantmechanicalants)

I am better than I was.
I will be better than I am.
written by (140/365) by (DS)

(via dressedtotheenines)

I never wanted something safe
I wanted something of a storm
With raging feelings and hands that can’t keep off each other
I never wanted quite nights talking about our favorite movies
I wanted spontaneous visits and our bodies intertwined.
I didn’t want somber apologies
I wanted you to make sure I treated you right
I wanted you to fight for me,
I never wanted you to leave me behind
I needed something that made my insides combust with what felt like a universe exploding in me
written by I needed: Carol Shlyakhova(strong-but-breakable)

(via loserchildhotpants)

I am in love with everyone old and everyone new at the same time

I HAVE A MENTAL ILLNESS
a few actually
so take what I say lightly
don’t follow me
and coddle me when the ledge feels too close 

Anonymous said: my second favorite face is the face you make when you orgasm. my first favorite face is the face you make when you've just woken up and you realize I was laying next to you.

okay, you got me.

Go all the way with it. Do not back off. For once, go all the goddamn way with what matters.
written by Ernest Hemingway   (via emmalynsullivan)

(Source: maddierose, via tuff-desperado)

I have a psychiatrist appointment tomorrow afternoon to replace all of my medicine. I paid my registration fee for PM and also asked all of the questions that have been keeping me up all night. I toured a school for my sister and it really solidified me going to PM despite everyone doubting it being a good idea financially for me. Hopefully a house will put itself in front of us soon, that’s the only missing puzzle piece. 

tonight made up for every night that has been shitty for the last two months in the weirdest ways

I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’
written by Azra.T “My Heart is Full of Open Windows.”  (via cradle-to-the-crypt)

(Source: loveless-people, via chewinghosts)

sometimes it really fucking hurts to be me and sometimes it really rules idk man my life is ruled by my personality disorder I guess but srsly sometimes I wanna lay on the floor of Kroger at 2 am and sometimes I want to fall in love again