“Madame President.” the shaking figure of tamsin whirled around, her wife's comforting hand grabbing hers. Her blue eyes focused on the woman, holding her head up high. “Do you care to say anything about Mr. Calloways thoughts on your marriage to Rebecca Stanson?” Tamsin had been expecting this question, just not so soon after the attack.
“My marriage to my wife?” Tamsin clarified, continuing after the other woman nodded. “I can say that Mr. Calloway knows nothing about the sanctity of marriage. The man has been married at least four times in the past ten years.” she could feel Rebecca laughing from beside her, stroking her hand calmly. “I can say that the man is not as Christian as he claims to be. Not a Catholic man, by any stretch of the title. My marriage to my wife is legal, perfectly legal and perfectly alright.” she paused. “And for all of those who deny that it is alright, I’d have to ask you this. What the hell does my sexuality have to do with whether or not I can lead a country?”
I know that people view the word “Love” in many different ways. When it comes to her, I’ve probably overused that word. Ummm… definitely overused that word. If I couldn’t use that word, then this is how I would describe this feeling.
It’s that thing that makes you feel free and helps you hold your head up high. It’s like a shell that protects you and the air that fills you. It makes your heart beat stronger and makes you excited to wake every morning. It’s that eagerness to see her every day and the feeling that something is missing when she leaves. It’s that warmth that you feel when she cups your hand. It’s that sense of completeness when she is near you. It’s that pain in your heart that you feel when she is sad. That urge to do everything you can to protect her from that sadness (even if that sadness is because of you). It’s this feeling of being content, like you have everything you need out of life when she is there. Self-sacrifice becomes an easy choice because of it. Sometimes, it’s so strong that it isn’t even a choice but an instinct. It’s that urge to know her, and understand her so that you can do everything possible to take away her pain; those heavy things she carries inside. You want to lighten her load and help her carry her burdens; whatever it takes to stop her suffering. Seeing her smile makes you happy and making her smile makes your life meaningful. (I wish I were better at that) You want to know her so well that your hearts become one. You want to hold her so tight that your bodies feel like one. Everything is okay when she is there. Even absolute boredom is okay when she is there. It sucks when you’re both angry and you fight, but you’d rather have that than to not have her there. It’s forgiveness because she is a part of the bigger picture. It is forgetting because she is a part of the picture. It’s that feeling where you want to give the world to her. It is knowing that she is that happiness that you never want to lose…. But you know… you know that her happiness and safety is always more important than any of your own wants or needs.
And squeezing all of that into a four letter word…. Yeah, I get why some people get so upset when you use that word so easily. But honestly, I could fire it at her all day long and mean every single word every single time.
Always hold your head up high, even if
on the inside you’re about to cry, pretend
that nothing’s wrong at all. Close your eyes
before you fall. If you can’t see it, it’s not there.
t h i s . i s . l i f e & i t ’ s . n o t . f a i r.
It’s always a nice feeling to know that you are a strong person and that you don’t put up with any bull shit especially been threatened and knowing that you aren’t a push over. And that I know that I can hold my head up high and say that I am going to be a stronger individual because of all the crap she has put me through.
Good morning loves. Today’s inspiration is for you all so realize that no matter where you are in the world right now, and who you’re involved with, know that you are a Queen. Never belittle yourself and the talents and dreams you possess for anyone in your life. No friendship or relationship is worth you carrying yourself any way other than that of a Queen. Never allow anyone to change who you are or tell you you aren’t good enough. You are worth more than precious diamonds because you in fact are a priceless gem yourself. Hold your head up high, stay motivated on your goals, and never stop spreading love and positivity into the world. Remember that anyone who tries to deter you from your path and make you feel less than what you are doesn’t deserve you in their life. Never doubt yourself and loose sight of who you truly are. You are a QUEEN. Never for get that. Much love and enjoy your day. 💖👑✨
I will hold my head up high
You will never see me cry
I’ll smile and say I’m good
But I will fall apart if I could
I’m inside out shot through the center
Feel this scar of where you entered
Took my life and turned it upside down
I’m burned to ashes split down the middle
If anyone asks it hurt just a little
I died inside the day I let you go
I know it's not easy when you're in a situation like that, but that person isn't good for you. Next time she asks you if you're going out dressed the way you are, take a deep breath, hold your head up high and tell her 'yes'. You said it yourself, you come from different worlds. Be yourself. Be genuine. I know it's hard at first but in this case, the best thing you can do is 'fake til you make it'. It'll help you build up your self-confidence and eventually you won't be knocked down anymore.
And you are right. I constantly tell myself that I lived 19years before meeting her and I was the kind of girl that didn’t care what people thought. I had yellow shoes - like Yellow. YELLOW shoes that screamed : I dont care, Im happy and a bit strange, so what!? And now. If I think that something is off or would make people look at me - it’s a big no no. I guess I juste have to find the girl that I was 7 years ago. Tomorrow I’ll try and put whatever I want on and go out and see how I feel. I know that she’s not good for me, but I can’t actually kick her out of my life - and I wouldn’t I guess I should just stop compare and Be Myself, like you said. But I guess I don’t know who I am anymore.
Thank you for answering this. It’s nice to know that I can get support here ♥
So what I can say at this point
Looking at these hands with those joints
Blackened than the sun with a heart so cold
Ice in my veins may i be so bold
To hold my head up high and look
To see your eyes staring back to brook
In every cranny i can feel the dark
Shadows following like an early park
Run to escape through the vapors
Will i see the light the sun a blight
May i fly high as the kite
You know who you were. You showed up in my ask box for two months straight.
I still get a confidence boost from the messages I have in my ask box. I screen shot every one - and they are in a folder on my phone that I look at close to weekly.
THANK YOU. On this website that you see a fair amount of tearing down, and in this world that says that I’m not good enough, you are one of the reasons I can hold my head up high and say no to the haters.
she’s a high school girl with a crush, how does that make her desperate? … she’s also extremely hardworking and dedicated, she’s encouraging and optimistic, she’s adorable and kind … she takes on the weight of her team without complaint, she holds her head up high in the face of difficulty and failure, she stays strong for her team even when she’s heartbroken …
honestly, if the only reason you don’t like Michimiya Yui is because she “gets in the way” of one of your Daichi ships, that has nothing to do with Yui as a character and everything to do with your own personal preferences, which I would appreciate you keep to yourself in the future if you’re going to voice them in this way.
When I worked with domestic violence survivors I was AMAZED at how strong the women were. They had been through hell and back and were still amazing women. They stood up for themselves and their kiddos. They did everything in their power to keep those children safe and cared for. They escaped horrible situations, sometimes putting themselves in more danger, to start a new life. They made sacrifices, sometimes meaning they lost their children, because they knew it was the safer option. They knew having a mama who was alive meant more than having a dead mama, even if that mama didn’t get to see her kids all the time. They testified even when they knew he would get off. They left even though it put them at risk of deportation.
When I escort at the abortion clinic I see women get out of their cars even when they are swarmed by anti-choicers. I see women cry as they walk in, but they still hold their heads up high and ignore the men trying to bagger them. Women thank ME, even though they are the ones getting abortion despite every single card stacked against them.
I know women who have been groped or harassed at work and continue to show up every day anyways. I know women who have reported men in positions of authority even though they know nothing will happen to him and they might be retaliated against. They report anyways, with the hope it will scare him away from doing it to another women.
I’ve seen women walk women they don’t know home from the bar. I’ve seen women pull drunk women away from men who are trying to take them home.
I know women who have been raped, and haven’t dropped out of school, haven’t stopped working, haven’t stopped being a mama, haven’t stopped living.
I’ve seen women put themselves between big scary men and other women. Women who put themselves between men of color and police officers. I have seen women pushed to the ground by police, assaulted by police, and continue filming.
I know women fighting addictions in a system that is meant to treat only men. Women set up their own programs, their own treatment plans.
I was hospitalized with women who went years without treatment for their mental illnesses because they were brushed off as “moody” or “dramatic”. They push on anyways.
Women live in a world where EVERYTHING is stacked against us. We have been living in this world for centuries, and we survive it every single day. We survive it.
Deoric and I leaned against the Mages Guild, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. Trying to stay as small as possible. The building blends into the rest of the city, soft wood and stone, and we try to sink into its walls. What will it be like to hold my head up high in a city? Just a person, not a reminder.
The sky was all one color, no clouds or only clouds, a dirty white. Would the sky be the same in Skyrim, a colorless palette stretching into infinity? I pulled my cloak tighter, stamped a foot; chilly today.
“Elinor will be here soon,” Deoric said in response to my agitation.
People walked by, taking no notice of us. A member of the Thalmor paused at the end of the street. They knew us and we knew all of them. The Thalmor frowned at Deoric and I, then marched toward us. Deoric’s jaw clenched. The High Elf loomed over us, his dark robe billowing.
“What is your business here?”
“Waiting for a friend.”
“Oh?” The Thalmor’s hand moved to his chest, for the notebook there.
Deoric sighed. Friendships always ended like this. Names on a list, intimidation, then silence. Cast out.
At that moment, the wide wooden door swung open. Elinor rushed out in a flurry of silky skirts and blonde braids. “Sorry I took so long. Come in!” She grabbed our arms and pushed inside, the Thalmor calling after her, “Miss! Miss!”
“This way,” Elinor said softly, pushing us into a small alcove as the Thalmor burst into the Mages Guild. After a few seconds, the Thalmor shook his head and left.
“Must you always be so dramatic?” Deoric asked as Elinor led us back into the hallway.
“I do like drama, but that was just sheer luck. Come on.”
I had never been inside the Mages Guild library. It’s open to the public, but the Cast-Out name restricts our movements. Deoric hoped we might at least get to read a few books if a Guild member was supervising.
The library doors feature elaborately carved signs that read “Bruma Mages Guild Library.” A small shiver raced up my spine. Elinor slowly opened the door, and there, gloriously spread before us, were books.
We have books at home; Mother and Father had secreted away a few precious tomes, and taught us to read from more mundane ones. Romilde and Wybert didn’t care much for reading – or anything that wasn’t fighting really – but Deoric and I had loved the written word from an early age. And finally, to be surrounded by so many books, so much knowledge. I forgot to breathe and thought I might faint.
A Redguard woman presided over a small desk in the middle of the room; she looked up as we entered. She cleared her throat. “Elinor… ?”
“Sorya! These are my friends, and they wanted to look at some books, so I brought them –”
The Redguard, Sorya, shook her head. “Obviously they are here for books.” She turned to us. “I need your names for the register.”
“Oh, that’s not important,” Elinor said, “just use my name.”
The librarian quirked an eyebrow. “No, Elinor. Names.”
“Godgifu and Deoric, your librarianship,” I said, hoping the interaction would end quickly and we could get to the books.
Sorya nodded, a slight smile at the corner of her mouth. “Family name?”
“Cast-Out,” Deoric said through gritted teeth.
Sorya shook her head. “No, I can’t allow it.”
“Just a few minutes? Elinor is right here,” I pleaded.
Sorya shook her head again.
Deoric’s shoulders slumped and he turned away. Elinor and I followed him out of the library. Elinor furrowed her brow, thinking. “Give me some time, a few hours, and I’ll see what I can do. Meet me…wait for me at the stables.”
He nodded, and we quickly left the building, cloaked in anger and resignation.