can she be the mother of my child ; ;

anonymous asked:

hey turns out i was an accident and my abusive mom never wanted to have me in the first place. how am i supposed to feel about her now?? i dont know much i can reasonably hold my neglect and abuse against her. she already had two kids seven years before me though, who i think were planned. i just dont know how to process this.

still yet, though, she had nine months to prepare for you. she could’ve set you up with a home that would’ve been more welcoming. instead she has decided to abuse you and hold you accountable for her own choices

she is responsible for her own actions. you as her child should be able to expect positive treatment and non-abusive behaviors from your own mother. you can hold her accountable. you do not owe her anything for having been born

[just btw, i’m very glad you were born]

My dear lgbt+ children, 

Seven years ago, my mother said having a gay child would be the worst thing that could ever happen to a parent and if one of her kids were gay, she couldn’t love them anymore. 

Yesterday, my mother sent me the link to a website about a lgbt+ christmas market and wrote “Your girlfriend would love this!”. 

People can change. Sometimes it just takes them a couple years.  

Stay hopeful. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Mom 

Day Ninety-One

-A young girl realized that she had inadvertently been hiding an item while her mother had been attempting to empty her cart and announced, “Mom, I was sitting on a pair of socks! They were hiding in my butt hut!” Any child this eloquent is certain to make history.

-An elderly man walked into the store, stared at a three-foot statue of the Target dog Bullseye, and asked loudly of no one in particular, “Does this dog attack often?” He then carried on his way to go shopping, apparently not all that concerned with finding an answer.

-Upon placing two solitary cans of soup on the counter, I was told with no context, “Tonight, she’s learning the wonders of canned soup.” I eventually was given the backstory that the guest had an exchange student from Austria, where they apparently do not have canned soup, but I believe that we can all do to be reminded of these wonders sometimes.

-I am glad to see that the etiquette of returning one’s cart rather than abandoning it at the register has reached Austria. I am disappointed to see that it has still yet to reach my surrounding area.

-A baby said hi. I said hi. The baby told me I was cute. I ended the conversation there. I did not know how to tell the baby that I am a taken man.

-I rang up a man with one standard brown eye and one eye which appeared to have been made out of stainless steel, qualifying itself as an Eye Deluxe.

-A four year-old attempted to smuggle a Nutella snack tub into her father’s purchase. I tried to help her sneak it through, but we were sadly both found out before the mission could be completed.

FT Parents telling their biological kids that they’re adopted.

Gajevy

Gajeel: You’re adopted.

Gajevy kid: I knew it.

Gajeel: You knew nothing. I lied. You’re grounded.


Jerza

Erza: You’re adopted

Jerza kid: If I kill my biological parents will you guys become my real parents?

Jellal: That’s not how it works.

Erza: But we appreciate the thought.


Miraxus

Laxus: You’re adopted.

Miraxus kid: Can I still live with you?

Mirajane: Yes.

Miraxus kid: Then who cares.


Nalu

Natsu: You’re adopted.

Nalu kid: So like am I a dragon baby? Was my mom a dragon? Did she give birth to me and was like this baby is human! I don’t want this baby! And then you guys came and was like we want dragon baby!

Natsu: Wow. You have your mother’s creativity.

Nalu Kid: My dragon mom’s?


Gruvia

Gray: You’re adopted

Gruvia kid: *cries*

Juvia: You’re not adopted. This was a mistake. This was never funny. *Cries and hold her child*

You know, we speak often of Taylor’s strength and validly so.  I’m amazed at her strength and constant grace under tremendous stress.  But let’s not overlook the strength of Andrea Swift.  I’m a mother.  I can handle what is thrown at me far better than what is thrown at my child.  Imagine being Andrea and having to sit back and watch as her daughter is attacked, dragged, blamed and ridiculed on a daily basis.  Imagine being there with your daughter on the day she was assaulted and now seeing people judge her and downplay that grotesque act.  Imagine seeing your flesh and blood being blamed for the election of a man many despise simply because they also despise her.  Imagine not being able to go online without seeing your child’s name being drug about like it’s nothing, like she is nothing and like she deserves no respect or consideration.  Imagine going to the grocery store and having Taylor’s picture on every magazine cover in the checkout line, displaying stories of utter nonsense.  Imagine being Andrea Swift.  Just imagine. And then imagine knowing you can do absolutely nothing to protect your child against these actions.  

The entire Swift family is incredibly strong as they all live with definitive grace and poise.  

Day Thirty-Four

-A fourteen-year old boy went through the lanes dressed as Jared Leto’s Joker. It is far too far from Halloween for this to be acceptable. He had acid-green hair, off-putting makeup, a t-shirt designed to look like the Joker’s bare body, and a very disappointed father.

-I once again utilized my power to stop a shrieking child and make her laugh instead. Her mother did not know why the screaming ceased, but she was visibly relieved as it did. As she walked away and blocked me from the child’s sight, the little one began to wail again. I feel obligated to accompany them and become a live-in nanny, whether they ask for it or not.

-An old man, supposedly by accident, referred to me as “honey.” He looked at me, mortified, then grabbed his bag and ran out of the store. I can understand this man and his actions all too well.

-A grown man had to say the word “panties,” and the amount that the word made him squirm makes me question what business he has purchasing any.

-A pair of elderly women came through together on a shopping date. They were thrilled to find a magazine about the upcoming Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them movie, and twice as thrilled to find my free stickers. I hope my priorities are as in order as theirs at that point in my life.

-I found out that I have inspired at least one other cashier to become more liberal with their stickers. If nothing else, I am glad to leave this legacy behind.

-A young girl walked through the store in a Pikachu costume. The joy in her face makes me hope she never has to take it off for as long as she lives.

-I looked to the end of my lane to find a man administering a sobriety test for his eleven year-old son. 

-A young girl in her cart spent her time proudly proclaiming to anyone who walked by that she could spell the word “sad.” I am glad to hear this, as depending on the success of a certain xenophobic jackolantern on November 8th, this skill may come in more and more handy.

-A young woman commented on how busy the store was and how stressed I seemed as a result of our dearth of cashiers at the time. She then told me she appreciated what I did. I get direct deposits every other Friday, yet this is still the most gratifying compensation this job has given me.

-I handed a boy a strip of stickers. He began to look down at them and giggle maniacally. He has plans. I do not know what they are, but I am both terrified and excited to find out.

-A man in his twenties took a sticker, then forced his friend to take one as well, as he could not choose which sticker he wanted but wished to adhere to the “Take One” rule.

-As her parents prompted her to thank me for her stickers, a small girl looked me in the eye, raised the stickers to my face, declared, “I’m taking these now,” and walked away with neither her parents nor a single care in the world.

-A mother told her son that if he touched anything, he would go to jail. I am not sure how she was able to back this threat up in the past, but clearly there was precedent enough that he stopped in his tracks.

-My final guest and I discussed strange things my guests have mentioned. She then asked me if I had seen a viral post about a Target employee’s first week on the job. As she described it, I reluctantly told her that I did in fact see it, as I had also written it. I am not fully sure if she left my register believing me or not, but either way, her reaction was phenomenal and I clocked out high on the buzz of pseudocelebrity status.

-My shift was bookended by visits from my lovely girlfriend. My night opened up with her bringing me Starbucks and closed out with her driving me home. She is the one to thank for Target Retales. She keeps me sane and keeps me going, and I don’t even have to give her that many stickers.

Can I just take a minute to talk about how important Morrigan and Kieran are to me?  That in this game there exists a child who is wise and strange and childish and complex even in his few small moments.  That there exists a mother whose character does not revolve around her motherhood, whose story is still being told, who is still at the center of big events.  Think for a moment about how vanishingly rare that is.  She’s a mother, and yet that isn’t what her story is about at all.  She’s difficult, she’s flawed, she’s frankly kind of an asshole still.  She loves and craves knowledge.  She’s a work in progress, but we’re never invited to question her fitness as a mother because of it.   She’s shown as a loving, concerned, strict mother, a woman who would sacrifice everything for her child in a heartbeat, without ever seeming to subsume her life to his needs.

That’s….rarer than gems in the Korcari Wilds, and very precious to me.

One time I got like tipsy and got really sad because the Sailor Scouts don’t “get what they want”. 

Kino Makoto’s biggest wish is to make a family that’s her own and have people that love her around her all the time. That she wants to bake cookies and make bentos for her kids because that’s how it was for her before she was orphaned.

And I got really sad because she’s essentially immortal and can’t pursue that dream since no one else around her but the other Scouts are and I was like crying to my boyfriend.

Bless him, he started to rub my back and said, “Well, since she’s immortal doesn’t that mean she can adopt almost any child she wants to and make her own family? And just keep making her family bigger and bigger and bigger? So she can be a mother to everyone that she knows?”

And I told him the other girl’s dreams that they couldn’t be solved as easily and he like basically gave me a list. 

  • Since Mercury has all the time in the world she can focus on researching for rare diseases and spend time becoming the world’s best doctor.
  • Music’s changed a lot within the last ten years Venus can keep releasing record after record after record and see how it changes over time and carry over “classics” to future generations. 
  • Mars wants to be the head priestess of her shrine and she can oversee it for all time.

He doesn’t know anything about Sailor Moon but he was able to take a step back and tell me that they can still achieve their dreams and do whatever they want to do and I think about it a lot. 

Just because your path isn’t leading you down the road you expect it doesn’t mean that you can’t reach for what you want. 

Hey guys, please keep my friend in your Duas and prayers. She found out her some unfortunate stuff about her husband being unfaithful to her and they have a baby on the way in just four months. She doesn’t quite know how she’s gonna go about it but a divorce seems inevitable. But as you can imagine it’ll be a trying time for her as a young, single, and soon to be mother(Insha Allah). So ask Allah to grant her patience and to relieve her of this stress and make Dua for her and her child to live an easy life despite all that happens and to grant her someone better in her future

What they said

 “You don’t need equal rights, you already have more rights than everyone,” said my father, after he openly said he wouldn’t hire a gay worker, not even me, his daughter.

“You don’t deserve to have kids,” said my mother, who couldn’t understand why the words she said made me cry. “A child deserves a mother and a father, and two queers like you could never raise a child.”

“But she doesn’t look like a lesbian,” said my aunt, the one family member I thought might defend me.

“Where did we go wrong,” asked my parents, as if there was something wrong with me. “We thought we raised you better than this.”

“You’re just confused,” said my father. “Therapy can help you figure out your feelings.”

“She goes to the University of Minnesota,” said my relatives, “what did they expect, her to come out normal?”

“Do you know where people like you go when you die?” asked my brother, who wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Do you want to go to hell?”

“You should be careful,” said my mother, when I told her I was going out. “Because do you know where you’ll go if you die today?”

“All transgender people should just be shot,” said my mother, “just like the queer people they are.”

“You need a mental examination,” was the reaction of my parents, after they first found out. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

“I’ve met a lot of lesbians,” said my cousin, the girl I once considered my best  friend, “but she just doesn’t give off the vibe.”

“She’s going to regret this when she’s older,” said another relative, after I came out on facebook. “She is ruining hope of having a normal life.”

“I love you,” said my good friend, crying like I had told her something bad. “But you know I can’t accept that lifestyle.”

“We’re praying for you,” said everyone, as if I had said I was sick.

“I am so glad you’re over that,” said my mother as I was finding out what heartbreak meant. “Now you need to date a nice boy.”

“I think she’s over that stage,” my mother told my aunt after.

“You are messed up,” was a text I got from my mother while I was attending the Women’s March.

“All that is is a march of a bunch of queers.” She spit out the last word, said it like it tasted as bad as I felt when I heard it.

“I just thought you had better morals than that,” said my mom. “You really have no morals to be doing that.”

“It’s just gross,” they said. “How can a woman love another woman? Something is wrong in your head if you think that’s okay.”

Gross, disgusting, immoral, unspeakable, sickening, shameful, horrid, dyke, queer.

“Don’t tell anyone, ever,” said my mother, ashamed of her daughter.

“We can never accept or condone your behavior,” said my father. “Having this around will influence everyone in the family.”

“You’re heading down a slippery slope,” said my mother. “If that’s how you want to live your life, go ahead. But the only thing that waits for you is drugs and alcohol, because you’ll need it to live with yourself.”

“I just can’t stand her,” said my mother to my sister.

“The last the we want to do is push you away, but we have other kids to think about,” said my mother, because obviously the other kids are more important than me.

“You are nothing but a queer,” said my mother, to my face.

“And we will never,” said my mother, “accept you or your lifestyle choice.”

2

Finally I made myself a child unit!
(Look at all those beta-haircuts lol)

Here’s some short trivia about her

  • She adores cute things like her mother, but doesn’t admit it (and fails)
  • Also can’t handle compliments
  • probably a tsundere
  • Has high respect for the Nohrian Royals + Generals of the Nohrian Army
  • She strong
  • Very confident, while her mother is a little shy pie
  • Mercenary class - prefers close combat
Important message

Alright, listen.

I apologize with being inactive and not posting as much content with this blog as I planned. But things have gotten very serious again.

I’ve been told I have 2 weeks before I get kicked out of my home.

Do I have any place to go this time? Nope. I’ve asked around, still am, and things aren’t brightening up. I’m going to need more help than just “I hope for the best for you”

I hate bringing my personal issues onto this blog because I started this blog as a way to sorta help me deal with it. But as much fun I’m having with it, more and more severe issues have been popping up and there’s only so much I can joke about it until I can’t laugh with it anymore.

A year ago was when I moved in with my father. I used to live with my mother, but due to her abuse and trying to use me as an excuse to collect child support money, she kicked me out since I’m no longer the age for that. Have things gotten better since I’ve been out of there? Uuuuhhh slightly. Not really. Dad and Stepmom has some sort of ban on anti-depressants and despite me still having nightmares and episodes about my mother, they tell me it’s all in my head and I don’t need to see a doctor. (”Well if you need medication for stress, then WE should be the ones taking it not you” ect.)
Due to not getting the medical/emotional care I need, all my progress on ANYTHING has been delayed. Driving, job seeking, ect. I can only do art in short bursts before taking month long hiatuses. 

Due to stepsiblings not being over 21, they’re still being babied. (They’re teenagers.) They leave all the lights on in the house the entire day “and that’s okay”. But god forbid me having the laptop on for 12 hours. It’s been confirmed that their father has been avoiding paying child support for several months now, even going as far as to try and pay only half of it.

Please consider donating some money. Even a little bit helps. I’ll be selling prints and charms and other things in the future, starting mid-January. But I can’t do that without a roof over my head.

There are donation buttons on both my blogs’ headers.
My paypal email is “srsilverfox@gmail.com” Please help.

I’m exhausted.

MY MOTHER ASKED ME TO STOP WRITING ABOUT HER
 
  1
 
  When my best friend was a child,
  her mother used The Game of Life
  as a metaphor to explain sexuality.
 
  “You can have two pink guys
  or two blue guys, you know,”
she explained.
 
  My best friend is so straight,
  she doesn’t even masturbate.
 
  Still, she always knew that even
  if she wasn’t, even if someday she ended up
  shotgun to another pink piece,
 
  she would remain loved and supported.
 
  She wouldn’t have to ask for forgiveness.
  Of all the things she was taught to apologize for,
  love has never been one of them.
 
  2
 
  My mother doesn’t bring up my sexuality
  anymore. I think she is tired of arguing.
 
  She is sick of reading about her faults
  in my poetry. She hates my selective memory;
  how I only remember the sharp things,
  the slammed doors, the heavy whiskey.
 
  “I used to sing to you before bed
  every night,”
she reminds me icily.
  “but you must’ve forgotten that story.”
 
  Last week, she silently folded up her old flannels
  and placed them at the foot of my bed.
 
  I know this is probably just a coincidence,
  not a peace treaty or an attempt to understand me.
 
  But for my own well-being,
  I have to take this as a sign she is trying,
 
  even if it isn’t.
—  MY MOTHER ASKED ME TO STOP WRITING ABOUT HER, by Blythe Baird.
2

Malia hasn’t genuinely smiled like this out of pure happiness and joy since the premiere of season 5 and if she doesn’t look like this at the end of this season then teen wolf, Jeff, Angela Harvey, and Will Wallace can all catch these mother fucking hands if they don’t give my child happiness i will hang Jeff by his nose with srydia’s precious red string of fate, riot the fuck out of the writers room and burn it to the ground along with their nonexistent talent for writing a proper show. Try and pull some more bullshit with Malia’s feelings….

Originally posted by drunkbroadway

Theory on Keith's mother.

Like, I know a lot of the fandom has the theory the Keith’s mother was the Galra from the pod, but I was thinking of another one while on my way home.

This theory can be applied to both if his mother was full or half Galra.

What happened to his mother? Nothing was ever mentioned of her. We know she had to have been an actual character, because it kind of takes a mother to have a child. So imagine that his mother is on Earth and then Keith is born. That’s over with, but she’s on the run from the government because she is part alien. She’s in constant hiding with baby Keith. Eventually, It becomes more and more difficult to stay on the run. As a last resort to give her child a chance to live instead of being a test subject, an object to be stuck with needles and studied for his entire life, she leaves him with his father and runs to keep the government off Keith’s tracks and to keep following her. She lets herself get cornered and captured. She prays under the night sky to the stars for the last time that her child will be able to live his life as she is being dragged away to the inevitable.

Dear Baby Witches,

when i was a baby witch, i was so concerned with whether i was a “real” witch or not. whether i could do all the witchy things i saw others do, and whether the path was right for me. i really really wanted to be a witch, but i thought that wasn’t enough, that i had to be chosen in some way. 

the only reason i kept going was because my mother always said that we have witchy blood, and it calls to my family often. my mother is very in tune with spirits, and because she said that, i figured it was okay for me to be one. but it still bothered me. i wasn’t specifically special as a child, very average, and nothing like my mother. 

i kept reading things on tumblr saying that everyone can become a witch, but that bothered me too. what was the point if just anyone could? i thought i was watering down the concept of witchcraft. (not to sound like a prick).

but long after, i realized something. not everyone can become a witch. however, if you want to become a witch, you can be. you’re being called to become a witch simply by being attracted to witchcraft at all. 

so no, not everyone can become a witch. i can assume that millions and millions of people in the world cannot become witches, simply because the craft doesn’t call out to them. but, the select few of you who desire it, and are interested in the craft? it’s calling for you. it’s chosen you specifically. so have no fear, you are a witch

C: Sometimes I can’t help but feel some resentment toward my mother for ever perming my hair as a child. One day she started relaxing it and continued to for years. When it broke off she insisted it was my fault for not doing what she told me to do with it. I got teased often because of the damage. Even my own family talked about me. The self-hate is bad in my family. A few years ago, I went natural and grew it out and she wanted to take credit for it, saying I finally took her advice. Right…

5

Heart and Clover! 

Heart is like a mother to Clover, who’s really protective and affectionate over the smol bean. The ribbon child doesn’t seem to care much tho. 

Extra info below the cut!

Keep reading

Femininity, to me, feels like telling women they are never enough. What you are as a woman is never enough to grant you human status. You can’t wear shorts in the summer, because your legs aren’t waxed; you can’t swim with your friends because you’re not thin enough; can’t leave the house without paint on your face because your real face is too offensive for the world. I distinctly remember my own mother saying to me I wasn’t allowed to attend my friend’s party because I refused to shave, when I was eleven; I also remember her saying I couldn’t have the shirt I wanted to wear for my 9th birthday party because it wasn’t lose enough and it would make me look fat. How fucking insane is it to tell a nine-year-old child she is already not good enough to deserve respect? 

Today, as an adult woman, years into the process of recognizing the patterns of oppression and since I’ve decided to unlearn femininity, since I’ve stopped shaving and wearing makeup, since I’ve cut my hair short, I still look at my body sometimes and think it’s wrong. I still look in the mirror and have fleeting thoughts of “how can I leave the house like this?”. Everything that makes me a woman is unacceptable: my body hair, which is here because of my hormones, my female hormones, my blood, my fat, my breasts. Everything is unacceptable as it is and needs to be modified.

I am a woman because I live in this body and because of it I have these experiences. I do not need to be beautiful to deserve respect as a human and as a woman. I do not need to make my body beautiful in order for it to be acceptable, because my body doesn’t exist for the purpose of standing around looking nice. My body exists to carry me wherever I want to go and to complete whatever task I want to achieve. I do not need to paint my face in order for it to be acceptable. My face existis to portray the emotions I have and to express the ideas and the contributions I have to the world, and it is amazing as it is. I do not need to remove the hair from my body to be a woman, because they grow on me and I am a woman by definition. 

And you do not need any of this either.

today i called my mom from the other side of the country because i was feeling down about my sexuality, and she — a lesbian herself — talked and joked with me for the full half hour it took me to feel better about liking girls again, reminding me that she loved me and was so proud of me for being true to who i was. if nothing else felt good or kind today, please take comfort in the fact that someday you can be that mother for that child and love them so much they’re never left doubting