Come on this musical ride with me

It might just change the life you think you're gonna lead

9,992 notes

SEE THE THING IS, he said, BIG GIRLS LEAVE MORE SPACE FOR ME TO GRAB AHOLD OF
but
i’m not your handlebars

SEE THE THING IS, she said, BIG GIRLS ARE BETTER THAN SKINNY ONES BECAUSE MEN DON’T LIKE BONES
but
other girls are not graveyards

SEE THE THING IS
a baby girl isn’t beautiful because somebody is gonna hold her
i mean we all wanna be loved but i want her to
love herself
first

a baby girl isn’t beautiful because a man’s fingertips can dig
bruises into her hips, she’s beautiful because
she just is

in nature we don’t say a flower is beautiful
when somebody wants to pick it

in fact we say that nature’s beauty is at the height of purity
when it would destroy you to even touch it

SEE THE THING IS
i would rather be an ocean of danger and deep black and
thick mermaid thighs rather than
a body you want to cruise across
i would rather be the night sky and crush ribs with a suffocating sense that we are all small and purposeless
rather than a landscape of freckles someone happens to think
are akin to constellations
i would rather be storms and lightning and a bright sun rising, i
would rather make you quake in your boots than get your heart
pounding,

i would rather be beautiful like a cold spring stream:
not beautiful because you said so
but beautiful because
i am me.

Don’t really wanna be your girl? Just wanna belong to me? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ /// r.i.d (via vriskaphiliac)

(via jessiespanospilladdiction)

356 notes

sexxxisbeautiful:

tedx:


I was six when the Taliban took over Afghanistan and made it illegal for girls to go to school. So for the next five years, I dressed as a boy to escort my older sister — who was no longer allowed to be outside alone — to a secret school. It was the only way we both could be educated.Each day we took a different route so that no one would suspect where we were going. We would cover our books in grocery bags so it would seem like we were just out shopping. The school was in a house — more than 100 of us packed into one small living room. It was cozy in winter, but extremely hot in summer. We all knew we were risking our lives: the teacher, the students, and our parents. From time to time, school would suddenly be cancelled for a week because the Taliban we’re suspicious. We always wondered what they knew about us. Were we being followed? Do they know where we live? We were scared, but still, school was where we wanted to be.

—From Shabana Basij-Rasikh’s TEDxWomen talk, “Dare to educate Afghan girls.” Shabana, now 22, runs a school for girls in Afghanistan. Listen to her talk and read more about her work at TED.com.

Most TED Talk videos are pretty neat but this one is one of my favorites.

sexxxisbeautiful:

tedx:

I was six when the Taliban took over Afghanistan and made it illegal for girls to go to school. So for the next five years, I dressed as a boy to escort my older sister — who was no longer allowed to be outside alone — to a secret school. It was the only way we both could be educated.

Each day we took a different route so that no one would suspect where we were going. We would cover our books in grocery bags so it would seem like we were just out shopping.

The school was in a house — more than 100 of us packed into one small living room. It was cozy in winter, but extremely hot in summer.

We all knew we were risking our lives: the teacher, the students, and our parents. From time to time, school would suddenly be cancelled for a week because the Taliban we’re suspicious.

We always wondered what they knew about us. Were we being followed? Do they know where we live?

We were scared, but still, school was where we wanted to be.


—From Shabana Basij-Rasikh’s TEDxWomen talk, “Dare to educate Afghan girls.” Shabana, now 22, runs a school for girls in Afghanistan. Listen to her talk and read more about her work at TED.com.

Most TED Talk videos are pretty neat but this one is one of my favorites.

(via fuckyeahawesomevulvas)

65,041 notes

Stand naked in front of a mirror for a long time, under unflattering light if possible. Trace the rises and falls of the little ripples on your skin — the scars, the dimples, the cellulite — and think about how much you try to hide these things in your day-to-day. Wonder why you hate them so much, and if this hate stems from somewhere within yourself, or as a result of being told all your life that it’s wrong to have physical flaws. Wonder what you would think of your body if you never looked at a magazine, if you never thought about celebrities and models, if you never had to wonder where someone would rate you on a scale of 10. Look at yourself until the initial recoil softens, and you can consider your features in a more forgiving frame of mind.

Listen to the music which makes you want to both sob and dance with uninhibited joy, and allow yourself to repeat any song you want as many times as your heart desires. Think of the person you are when you have your favorite song in your headphones and are walking down a street you feel you own completely, swaying your hips and smiling for no good reason — remember how many things you love about yourself during those moments, how much you are willing to forgive in yourself, how confident you are for no good reason. Try to think of confidence as a gift you give yourself when you need it, instead of something you have to siphon from every unreliable source in your life. Dance because the music makes you remember how much you love yourself, not because it allows you to forget the fact that you don’t.

Write a list of all the things you like about yourself, even if you think it’s a self-indulgent and narcissistic activity. Start as early as you like in your life — put down that time you won a trophy playing little league soccer when you were eight and then got an extra-large shake at the DQ on the way home, and don’t feel silly for remembering it. Try to understand how many sources in your life happiness can come from, how many things you could be proud of if you chose to. Ask yourself why you so tightly limit the things you take pride in, why you set your own hurdles for happiness and fulfillment so much higher than you do with anyone else in your life. Let your list go on for pages and pages if you want it to.

Touch and care for yourself with the attention and the patience that you would someone you loved more than life itself. Rub lotion in small circles on your elbows and hands when it is cold and your skin is dry and cracked. Make soup for yourself when your nose is running and curl up, with your favorite movie, in a pile of expertly-stacked pillows. Light a few candles and let their glow flicker against your body. Admire how gentle they are, how delicately their warmth touches you — wonder why you don’t let yourself do the same. Soak your feet in warm water at the end of a long day, until they have forgiven you for walking on them for so long without so much as a “thank you.” Listen to your body when it aches to be touched, and don’t be afraid to give it every orgasm that you may have been too ashamed to ask for in someone else’s bed.

Be patient with yourself, and don’t worry if a switch doesn’t flip in you which abruptly takes you from “crippling self-doubt” to “uncompromising self-love.” Allow yourself all the trepidation and clumsy, uneven infatuation that you would with a promising stranger. Try only to be kinder, to be softer, and to remember all of the things within you which are worth loving. Listen to the voice in the back of your head which tells you, as much out of sadness as anger, “You are ugly. You are stupid. You are boring.” Give it the fleeting moment of attention it so craves, and then remind it, “Even if that were true, I’d still be worth loving.”

Chelsea Fagan, How To Fall In Love With Yourself (via journeytogold)

(Source: larmoyante, via fuckyeahawesomevulvas)

47,118 notes

lacigreen:

skunkbear:

It seems like the title of an onion article, but it’s actually very serious. A study published today in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that hurricanes with feminine names killed significantly more people than hurricanes with masculine names.  The authors looked at several decades of hurricane deaths (excluding extreme outliers like Katrina and Audrey) and posed a question: 

Do people judge hurricane risks in the context of gender-based expectations?

 According to their study, the answer is a big yes.

Laboratory experiments indicate that this is because hurricane names lead to gender-based expectations about severity and this, in turn, guides respondents’ preparedness to take protective action.

In other words, because of some deep-seated perceptions of gender, people are less afraid of hurricanes with feminine names. And that means they are less likely to evacuate.

damn.  looks like mother nature is coming for your sexist ass.