Yesterday evening I was walking back to my apartment from the parking lot I am forced to park in due to not being an in-state resident where I go to school.
Guess what y’all — it’s Transgender Awareness Week! This week is about honoring voices and experiences from the Trans* community and embracing different gender identities. Because, let’s face it, gender isn’t always cut and dry. For some people, it’s complicatedº. So let’s take this time to listen, learn, share, and celebrate.
This great infographic from Fenway Health breaks it all down when it comes to Trans* health. Check it out and share!
-Chelsea @ Planned Parenthood
ºPersonally, I see gender as a big ball of wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey stuff — but that’s just me.
Somewhere in the back left pocket of your childhood,
your mother’s tongue is moving against your father’s hips.
They are making you, a you that would not exist if she had slit her wrists
like she wanted to when she was seventeen.
Evolution made us all grow up with bones ready for the breaking,
but your weather vein wrists do not have to be perpetually prepared
for a jagged streak of lightning to open them up and spill out red rain.
You have had days where even the worst of the worst
came nowhere close enough to describing how it felt
to walk into a forest wishing it would light itself on fire
or a wheatfield hoping for every yellow blade to thresh itself
or a river wanting nothing more than the water to drown itself dry
just so you’d feel less alone.
But see, sometimes what feels like love is really just something ugly
that starts out as a wedding band and then gradually begins
to suffocate the wearer by growing far too tight.
Razorblades are not love. They were made for whittling wood,
not skin. You are not a demolition; you don’t need this tool.
You are a carpenter, so build yourself back up with each bare palm,
cake mortar between every wound so thick
that nothing will ever slice those bricks apart again.
Throw away the razorblade. Throw away the razorblade.
Hard as you can, till it lands in the trashcan
and hits rock bottom instead of you this time.
Until your mother can hear the sound all the way in the other room
and remember how glad she is
that she threw hers away too, seventeen years ago.
FUCK IT. I WANT TO LEAVE. I AM ABOUT A HAIR’S BREATH FROM BREAKING THE LEASE AND FUCKING LEAVING. I HATE IT HERE.
THIS IS THE SECOND TIME THIS SEMESTER MY ROOMMATE AND I HAVE COME HOME TO FIND A MAJOR FUCKING LEAK AND NOW I AM ACTUALLY INJURED BECAUSE I FELL WHEN TRYING TO FIGURE OUT IF THE SOURCE WAS THE SINK OR THE DISHWASHER. I’M FUCKING DONE.
IT WAS SUCH A GOOD DAY UNTIL WE GOT HOME. I HATE LIVING HERE. FUCK EVERYTHING.
Friends, let’s discuss Thor 2, a movie which recently came out. Now, if you have not yet seen Thor 2, I suggest you don’t continue reading unless you are alright with plot spoilers
A discussion on Thor 2 and tropes (like the women in refrigerator trope, for instance).
Like, could you be any more wrong about something? Seriously?
One year of chronic pain.
There is a part of me that wants to somehow commemorate this, and I am trying to work out some sort of ritual for it. So far, I just have a question mark next to yoga with candles and a nice dinner.
Anyone have any other ideas?
- I am allowed to be vocal about my pain if it helps me heal
- I am allowed to be sad in places other than my own head
- I am allowed to express my anger/sadness/hurt in ways that do not hurt other people, whether that is in writing or speaking to friends
- I am allowed to speak my truth even when it makes others uncomfortable
- I am allowed to take care of myself, even if it makes people who hurt me uncomfortable
- I am allowed to create my own rules for self-care
the next time you think you’re lonely, just remember you have about 25 billion white blood cells in your body protecting your sorry little ass with their life. you have 25 billion friends who would die for you. no need for tears.
I actually needed that.
Here’s your daily reminder that you are amazing and so capable of doing all the things that you dream of doing every day. You are capable of getting up and getting out there and trying to do more than exist. You are capable of living a prosperous life where you find more and more new things to smile about every day. Things that make you so happy that you have to massage your cheeks. You deserve that. You deserve all of it, and it’s yours for the taking. I’m trying to tell myself this more. I have to.