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@urmomsfav-adhdriddledbutchbaby

22 🤙🏼| Sun-Moon-Rising: Leo-Aquarius-Leo
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barkingfortheocean
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barkingfortheocean
“Since that [documentary Tig] has come out, and since I’ve kind of talked about this in other ways, I get so many emails from people that are like, “This is the exact same thing. And I fell in love with this person, and that’s how I realized I was gay.” Or, “I don’t know if I’m gay, but I fell in love with someone,” and I think that’s the thing. Because it’s not the norm in our culture, and you don’t see it in the media in the way that–it’s not normal in the way everything else is, you have to like really find it on your own terms. And I just think, god, it would have been so easy for me to just never go there, marry someone, like him, y’know, have kids, go through life going, “yeah, he’s cool.” And I think there must be so many people in that position, and they might not–it’s not to go “oh, you’re gay and you just won’t admit it.” They might not know. And that’s what floors me. Because I can’t believe I didn’t know.”

— Stephanie Allynne

Source: alisonrosen.com
urmomsfav-adhdriddledbutchbaby
papibutch
urmomsfav-adhdriddledbutchbaby
papibutch
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birlinterrupted

i hope there are more of these women so that queer women can sexualize my titties instead

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ovanilinavo

from the persistent desire: a femme-butch reader

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cistematicchaos

[ID: Two images, the first a cropped screenshot of a tiktok caption saying, “The amount of queer women sexualising boobs… 😃?” with the o’s in “boobs” censored with zeros.

The second image is a page from a book with text reading:

“AH: Yes, really … Well, the first discussion I ever heard of lesbianism among feminists was: 

“We’ve been sex objects to men and where did it get us? And here when we’re just learning how to be friends with other women, you got to go and sexualize it.” That’s what they said! “Fuck you. Now I have to worry about you looking down my blouse.“ 

That’s exactly what they meant. It horrified me. “No no no,” I wanted to say, “That’s not me. I promise I’ll only look at the sky. Please let me come to a meeting. I’m really okay. I just go to the bars and fuck like a rabbit with women who want me. You know?”

Now from the onset, how come feminism was so invested in that? They would not examine sexual need from each other except as oppressor-oppressee. Whatever your experience was, you were always the victim. Even if you were the aggressor. So how do dykes fit into that? Dykes who wanted tits, you know? 

Now a lot of women have been sexually terrorized and this makes sense, their needing not to have to deal with explicit sexuality, but they made men out of every sexual dyke. “Oh my god, she wants me, too!“ 

So it became this really repressive movement, where you didn’t talk dirty and you didn’t want dirty. It really became a bore.]

urmomsfav-adhdriddledbutchbaby
arcane-gold
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seriemorder

really jealous of people who can just... do things. like they dont go through the 39 stages of grief before and the 47 stages of grief after. they just do it like its some adidas commercial. like the spirit of shia laboeuf possessed them. still sounds fake to me but whatever. good for them ig

urmomsfav-adhdriddledbutchbaby
weaponizedtit
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weaponizedtit

love can be scary. there's a fear of happiness because it is addictive. and sometimes you never see it coming. and you don't know what to do with it. just like you'll never see the coming of its end. it could be abrupt. you won't know what to do with it.

when I fall in love, I think of death. 'this will be the death of me', even when it's the safest you've ever been. because love can be pure but it is greed, just the same. holding a body is not enough, sometimes you could devour the soul too. and that's the danger.

bodies are fragile and the souls are always ready to fly. when healthcliff cried, "you said I killed you–haunt me then!", I was 12 and I believed in it with my heart, my soul and the brain as well. so I still do. with love comes parting and the terrible terror of it's anticipation.

of course, I try my best to not let these terrors cast shadows over my love. happiness rules me when it arrives. but the nightmares remain, like dust in the corners of a bedroom floor. invisible, insignificant, but definitely present.

life, love, death. they are all related. I hope that one day I would be haunted by my love. if ghosts aren't supposed to be real, I want to be the one to say goodbye first. I'll try to find the light for her.

urmomsfav-adhdriddledbutchbaby
psychoticallytrans
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psychoticallytrans

I think one of the most profound forms of love is "I'll try that, for you. I may not like it, but I'll try it."

It's a confused middle-aged man in a pottery class, whose daughter is helping him with his clay's plasticity. It's a kid scrunching up their brow while listening to their mom's favorite music, trying to figure out why she likes it. It's a girlfriend who says "Yes, I'll go with you" and her girlfriend cheering and buying a second ticket for a con. It's a friend half dragging another friend through an aquarium, the one being dragged laughing and calling out "Wait, wait, I know we're here for the exhibit, but I haven't been here! Slow down!"

It's being willing to spend some of your time trying something new because it makes someone you love happy.