normal people don't care about at all

Okay. Stop.

Don’t doubt yourself. Don’t.

All the people around you can and will (which is normal), including the ones you care about the most, of course.

But you? Nope. Absolutely not.

Why? Because you’re wrong.

You can do it. You can.

Sure it may look like you’re at the end of the line but just stop for a minute. Look at where you’re standing now, and look how far you’ve gone.

All that crap thrown at you and that you’ve trudged through all this time.

You did that. YOU.

And I don’t know about you but, that is awesome.

And you know what else is awesome about that? You’re still here.

And if you’re still reading this, then I’m willing to bet that you’ll still be here later. Or tomorrow. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Or the day after that. Or the day after that.

People will doubt you. Maybe not at first, but once they do, it’s usually a continuous downpour from there. The people you love are usually the last ones, too, because they’re the ones closest to having the patience of saints. Terrible timing, isn’t it?

And it hurts. GOD, does it hurt. To have all of them look at you and think that all the effort you’ve made wasn’t worth it? That everything you did was ‘exaggerated’ and ‘unnecessary’? Nothing can literally make you feel more like shit than that.

But here’s the thing. You’re still here. I know, I said that already, but that fact alone is what makes this all so amazing.

Despite everything, you’re still pushing yourself. You’re still reading this and you’re still fighting.

That is amazing.

You are amazing.

So please don’t doubt yourself. You may not know it yet, but pretty soon, everything will be okay.

And if you really feel like giving up, then okay. Sure. But I certainly won’t. (And trust me, that’s gonna be annoying as hell so better just forget about giving up entirely)

Don’t doubt yourself. If you do, then that’s unfortunate because I don’t.

I believe in you.

You can do it. :)

Today I was thinking about Harry Potter getting haircuts - you know, as people often find themselves doing. It’s a very normal topic and not at all emotional.

I have to think that after Harry started at Hogwarts the Dursleys didn’t take care of that sort of thing anymore. When he was little he “must have had more haircuts than the rest of his class put together” but then he started going away to school all year. Out of sight out of mind. No need to be so compulsive about keeping up tidy appearances, especially when you’re trying to pass off your scrawny thirteen-year-old nephew as a hardened delinquent. 

I’m sure every part of Vernon and Petunia Dursley still hated Harry Potter’s messy mop of hair just as much as they always had, but a few months trying their best to ignore the kid altogether was probably preferable to taking him to get a trim.

Nevertheless, Harry must have had haircuts.

He’s probably pretty shaggy by the end of his first year at Hogwarts. Probably started the year with fairly short hair, not yet self-conscious about his scar, not yet accustomed to pushing his fringe down over his forehead. Being an eleven-year-old boy it was almost certainly not on his mind. But by the time he gets to the Burrow he’s sweeping it out of this face more often and it curls up at the nape of his neck.

Molly Weasley notices this right away, as mothers do, and keeps her frowns to herself but offers lightly one morning - Harry’s hair is still wet from his shower, hanging over his ears and dripping onto his shoulders - to trim it when she does Ron’s later that day.

Ron rolls his eyes and grudgingly lets his mother trim his hair. Harry blushes and tries to ignore Ron’s laughter as Mrs. Weasley tries in vain to get his hair to lay flat.

She probably trims it up every summer - pulling him aside at the Leaky Cauldron while everyone rushes around doing last minute packing, on a rainy day after the Quidditch World Cup with everyone huddled up inside the Burrow with nothing to do. Every summer except the one after the Tournament. Not for lack of trying. She offers. More than once. Drops heavy hints with raised eyebrows. But Harry bristles at anything resembling coddling and while he’s touched that Mrs. Weasley considers him to be family he doesn’t need her to fuss over him.

He regrets it later, a few months into fifth year, when his hair is longer than ever, a tangled and unmanageable nest. He tries to fix it himself but the back comes out extremely uneven. Ron laughs. Hermione fixes it.

When he comes to stay the next summer Harry asks Mrs Weasley to cut it for him. She looks so touched he thinks maybe she’s misheard his simple request. When he visits for the Christmas holidays he asks again and smiles when she pats his cheek affectionately.

The Burrow is a madhouse in the days leading up to Bill’s wedding and while Mrs. Weasley is concerned about her children’s appearances a haircut for Harry is a passing thought in a line of hundreds that’s forgotten as quick as it comes. In any case, he doesn’t look like himself on the day and there are a thousand other things to think about and organize.

By the time Harry makes it to the Burrow again the war is over. He’s been on the run for a year and it shows. He’s thinner than his should be, paler than he should be, his hair is the longest it’s ever been. He has stubble on his jaw to match. And if Mrs. Weasley is in bed more than usual, quieter than usual, she fusses over her children more than usual as well. She finds Harry in the kitchen one morning, alone, the sun not quite up yet, and reaches to brush the hair out of his face. She sighs at how long it’s gotten. Practically brushing his shoulders, hunched as they are.

She offers to cut his hair and Harry doesn’t object. He doesn’t bristle at her fussing. And if Molly Weasley feels just a little bit better having someone to take care of then Harry feels just a little bit better letting someone take care of him.

#ThisBodyBeatCancer There are a lot of misconceptions about cancer and the body. For example, your relationship with your body doesn’t completely change when you get sick. Cancer doesn’t swipe away normal issues of self image. And being sick for sure doesn’t always mean losing weight. This is me. No makeup, no tan, port scars, peach fuzz, and curves. It’s hard to hear people say “wow you didn’t lose any weight!” or “you’ll get your body back!” But for the last 7 months all I’ve been doing is fighting to survive. I’ve been eating as best as I possibly can. I’ve been meeting with a trainer for the last two months. My weight fluctuates. But I’m here to say, loud and proud, that this body beat cancer. Can’t that be enough for now? So, survivors, I want you to take a moment & stop beating yourself up about whatever body woes you have. Spread the love. Post on Tumblr, Insta, Facebook, Snapchat, whatever, & share how your body makes you proud.Your body beat cancer. Congratulations.

valentines day is such a weird phenomena to witness on social media (facebook especially) cause people need to let their opinion on the matter be known and it’s usually one of the three

  • they !!DO NOT !! CARE!! AT ALL!!! cause they love the single life and they’re free to do what they want unlike people in a relationship
  • they think everyone who celebrates is being cheated on by their unlovable and unloving partner allowing them to make fun of the poor bastards
  • they’re in a relationship thus making vday the best day of all to declare their undying love all over my dashboard and pity the souls who have not yet found their one tru love

meanwhile I’m sitting here like… cool

To all my asexual/aromantic friends out there, I want you to know one thing:

You are valid. 

I don’t care what people say. I don’t care what people think. I don’t care that society thinks it’s “necessary” to have a romantic/sexual relationship. I don’t care that some people think you’re not normal. I don’t care that they think you’re broken.

Because you know what?

They are wrong. You are valid. You are beautiful. You are wonderful. You are worth it. You are loved. You are normal.

You are not broken. 

This is for all my aro friends who are constantly told that one day they’ll meet the right person and want to get married. This is for all my ace friends that are told they “just haven’t hit puberty yet”. This is for all my friends on the gray-a spectrum who are told they’re not a part of the LGBT+ community. This is for you guys. And I want you to know that you’re loved, you are so, so loved. And I believe you to be worth the entire universe. 

You matter. 

You are no less valuable than someone who identifies as gay or lesbian or straight. You matter just as much. And you belong in the LGBT+ community no matter what. I don’t care if you are hetero-romantic/heterosexual. You still belong here and we love you. 

So remember that you are not broken. You are not a freak. You are not worthless. You are loved and you are valid. 

Normally when Dan reveals his feelings to us he pushes them aside and makes light of them later so I’m going to say this now: 

Don’t message people who actually cared about Dan’s mental health saying you “told them so” if (and probably when) Dan tells us to not take what he says seriously. A lot of people invalidate their own feelings after revealing them so they’re not seen as weak or complex- it’s easier to be viewed as relaxed and uncomplicated over emotional and someone to worry about. Dan has done this before whenever he expressed something that wouldn’t make him seem funny and #relatable, and i wouldn’t be surprised if he did it again. 

But that doesn’t mean that he felt nothing, and it certainly doesn’t mean that he was just joking. 

If there is seriously something wrong with Dan’s mental health, we don’t want to be the fandom that didn’t care. We don’t want to be the fandom that sat by and watched as the person we adored deteriorated in front of us. Even if we don’t want to write long, cringey letters to Dan on tumblr (because that’s a common solution to problems that we see on tumblr), we still shouldn’t belittle or undermine anything that Dan is feeling. 

TL;DR: Dan may say that what he said was a joke or that we shouldn’t take it seriously, but it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t care about him. Of course we don’t need to baby him- he is a 24 year old man after all- but please, please, please don’t act like you don’t care or like you “knew he was fine all along”.