Reblogged from lovelyfatties :
"
No, there is not a documented epidemic of brutal murders of fat people for being fat, but there is a documented epidemic of failure to provide life-saving healthcare: Google will easily help you find stories of fat people who died while emergency crews laughed at their weight and appearance, of fat people who were told they should lose weight to fix problems actually caused by blood clots, cancer, internal injuries, infections, and myriad other problems that later killed them, because their doctors couldn’t see past their fat to properly treat them. Google will also easily help you find stories of medical equipment that cannot accommodate fat bodies, of anesthetists who accidentally kill fat people in surgery, of doctors who prescribe wrong doses for fat bodies, of drug trials that make no attempt to include fat patients. Google will also easily help you find stories of fat people who did not seek life-saving healthcare because they had been so viciously fat-shamed by doctors their whole lives that they had given up hope of finding sensitive and caring providers who would treat them.
Fat people die because of fat hatred ALL THE TIME.
"
Just a little video about something great that happened at my yoga class tonight that I wanted to share.
"I wish that I didn’t have to tell you how beautiful your body is.
I wish that the world would shout about the beauty in the map of your skin.
The freckles, stretch marks, bumps and scars
What an intricate intimate portrait of who and what you are.
Why must we think this is trash,
These beautiful supple cathedrals that we live and love in?
Why are we told over and over by a money hungry media,
That we are worthless,
That the skin our mothers brought us into this broken world in is not good enough?
Why do we believe them?
Why do we let them into our heads
Making us believe that we would be better off dead than their definition of ugly?
Why do we accept that the inhuman mold they showed us is reality,
And that somehow this temple is the nightmare?
There is no answer.
But we eat their slop like pigs being fattened for slaughter;
We pluck, pull, cut, burn, poison, decimate our bodies
All the while screaming out into the abyss.
AM I GOOD ENOUGH NOW!
But the only answer we receive is the echo of our broken voices back at us.
This madness has become the norm.
And somehow the notion that we are perfectly acceptable in our own skin is revolution?
Let’s declare peace with our battered bodies to begin to heal our broken souls,
Because we are worth more than the price tag they put on our self hate.
Let’s turn the war onto the people that would have us believe that we are nothing,
Because we deserve happiness no matter what body we live in."
-Charlie Brazen
(I wrote this a few days ago and I don’t know what to call it because I can’t find the right combination of words to sum up the amount of emotion that I poured into these 26 or so lines.)
Reblogged from gtfothinspo :
“Girls, we flirt with death everytime we etch a new tally mark into our skin. I know how to split my wrists like a battlefield too, but the time has come for us to reclaim our bodies. Our bodies deserve more than to be war-torn and collateral, offering this fuckdom as a pathetic means to say, ‘I only know how to exist when I’m wanted.’
…Your body is the most beautiful royal. Fathers and uncles are not claiming your knife anymore, are not your razor. No, put the sharpness back. Lay your hands flat and feel the surface of scarred skin.
I once touched a tree with charred limbs. The stump was still breathing but the tops were just ashy remains. I wonder what it’s like to come back from that, because sometimes I feel a forest fire erupting from my wrists, and the smoke signals sent out are the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.
Love your body the way your mother loved your baby feet, and brother, arm wrapping shoulders, and remember, this is important: You are worth more than who you fuck. You are worth more than a waistline. You are worth more than beer bottles displayed like artifacts. You are no less valuable as a size 16, than a size 4. You are no less valuable as a 32A than a 36C. You are worth more than any naked body could proclaim in the shadows- more than a man’s whim or your father’s mistake. Your sexiness is defined by concentric circles within your wood; it is wisdom. You are a goddamn tree stump with leaves sprouting out- reborn.”
So this is kinda incredible. Watch it maybe?
This is really powerful. I loved it.
Everybody needs to watch this.
Literally tears in my eyes. Please watch this. Please listen to everything, listen to the space between the words and let this sink in. I love moments when something is so beautiful and heart felt that I can feel my soul swell.
"Accepting my fat really wasn’t the hard part. Accepting my personality —and my many limitations that have jack shit to do with my thighs —was. But oddly enough, once I started to do that, my life became about a zillion times more satisfying. I found the right guy, I took up yoga, I started taking my writing more seriously, I stopped apologizing for taking vacations in the U.S. and Canada instead of somewhere more exotic, etc. And lo and behold, things got a lot more fun around here. The thin person inside me finally got out —it just turned out she was actually a fat person. A reasonably attractive, semi-outgoing fat person who has an open mind and an active imagination but also happens to really like routine and familiarity and quiet time alone. That was never who I expected to be —it was just always who I was."
Reblogged from khloemagazine :
Khloē Magazine: She’s Not Prettier Than You
It can happen anytime, anywhere.
In the store as you casually stroll the makeup aisle. You know, on that day you decided that you wouldn’t see anyone you knew so you didn’t put on any makeup and your hair is in a messy ponytail.
When you’re out with your friends on that day you admitted that…
Reblogged from housewifeswag :
This is not fool proof, this is not something for everyone, this is simply something to keep in mind.
(Source: fyeahwomen)
Reblogged from wickedkunt :
"Shame is the lie someone told you about yourself."
(Source: enajcosta)
“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be...
Kind of looks like the most adorable bee sting ever.
Where I go, when I go there,
No more whispering anymore-
Only hymns upon your lips;
A mystic...
Theme by Lauren Ashpole
