“She was still holding out for something that wasn’t going to happen. She was good at waiting. That seemed like a sad thing to be good at.”

— Ann Brashares 

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Men want women to bear their children, yet hate us throughout the entire process. Magazines will print photos of “perfect” postpartum bodies, and shame other women for not bouncing back to what they looked like before pregnancy. I can’t count how many times I’ve seen a man complain about how his wife’s vagina is “loose like a lasagna” after having a baby. Women are made to be ashamed of their postpartum stretch marks and cellulite and soft stomachs because they don’t appeal to the male gaze. Meanwhile mothers are taking care of a new life, and are most likely under a lot of stress to begin with. Not to mention postpartum depression, which can ruin lives. Companies sell creams and workouts and “mommy tucks” to desperate mothers who just want to feel normal and be accepted by their spouse. Breastfeeding in public is not tolerated, because exposing breasts in public for any reason that isn’t sexual is unacceptable to men. Anyways I just hate how it’s socially acceptable for men to police postpartum bodies just so that they can continue living their fantasy; they want a perfect mother with a perfect body caring for a perfect child. And we all know that this is impossible. We need to stand up for our mothers, love our mothers, instead of shaming our mothers for things they can’t control. 

I know I’m not pretty like the other girls. I don’t know how to wear make up, I don’t have straight and silky hair. My skin isn’t perfect and my body is far from what’s considered attractive. I don’t know how to click photos, I don’t click photos. I can’t pose the right way to save my life. I don’t know how to be sexy, I get nervous and very self conscious when I’m around people . I’m not that mysterious girl that leaves you wanting for more, I talk. A lot. Mostly because I’m nervous and I tend to overcompensate by talking too much. And even though I knew this all my life, even though it bothered me all my life, I had accepted it in a sense, made my peace with it. But then you came along and I couldn’t believe someone like you wanted me. Despite of all that I wasn’t. I should have known it was too good to be true because you left me for a girl that was exactly what I wasn’t. I hated myself long before I met you but you picked her and yes it was inevitable and all of my fears were proved to be true. Now I don’t know how to breathe without feeling that I’ll never be enough. I can’t breathe without hating every inch of myself.

— you choosing her destroyed me