What? My boobs are great.
See? Perfectly fine.
I mean, yeah, they jiggle and wobble and don’t sit high up on my chest. But that’s normal.
Like what do you think I should do about it? I mean
My boobs just do normal boob things. They’re A-okay normal healthy boobs.
Moral: Boobs are really diverse. Do your boobs sag? Normal. Do they have hair? Normal. Do they have stretch marks? Normal. Do you get pimples on them? Normal. Are they different sizes? Normal. Big nipples? Normal. Puffy dark areola? Normal. Not facing dead ahead? Normal. Small? Normal. Big? Normal. Normal Normal Normal.
And they’re your boobs. If you can change any of those things and you want to, go ahead!
But don’t let people tell you that your breasts are wrong just because they’re affected by gravity.
You’re fine. They’re fine.
I love you
i sprinkle my blunts with that ramen noodle seasoning, that beef kief
so the whole family is going down to birmingham and i just got out of the shower and my mum said to me ‘we’ve only got an hour you need to hurry up and start on your hair.’ to which i replied ‘ive decided to leave it natural’ and she goes on a rant about how much of an embarrassment i am and how i’m just trying to ‘bring shame’
cant wait to move out again. ive had the roughest past year imaginable and i think this just goes to show my mothers character. everything thats happened to me and also everything ive chosen shes always gone out of her way to put me down. i hate that. why cant she just support me with my decisions instead of teaching me from birth to be ashamed of myself and make me feel like im never good enough.
the amount of times ive screamed in tears at myself and literally pulled clumps of hair out from the age of five wishing i could just have ‘normal hair’ (as my mother calls it) the fucking years ive spent hating myself every day for something i cant fucking change. The nights i spent up literally praying and wishing on stars that i would wake up with straight ‘normal’ hair. All because of her.
i get how hair might not seem like a big deal to a lot of people but the way she raised me she put a lot of emphasis on hair and weight. growing up seeing her crazy starvation diets so she could be skinny. seeing the hair extensions and relaxer kits she obsessed over so she could be ‘beautiful.’
the woman gave me such a fucked up perspective and ive hated myself my whole life for not being thin enough ( even though ive had a really fucked up eating disorder since the age of 12 or so) for not having long silky straight hair. Im fucking done. i dont wanna hate myself any more
Listening to only one genre of music is the most painfully boring trait I can think of for a human being to have
Mums gettin mad cos basically all the wardrobes/draws in her room are full of my clothes and even after I get my new wardrobes made/fitted I’ll still need her wardrobe cos there won’t be enough room 😂
Sometimes I think I should clear out all the unworn clothes (half of which still have the labels) and have a more micro wardrobe but when it comes to it I’m a hoarder and I ‘never know’ when the occasion might come up that I need that ball-gown……