So one of my friends was having a party at his house, and this one guy was being a total dick and my friend wanted him to leave. My friend was pretty drunk, and apparently the other guy was hopped up majorly on coke, and the guy was refusing to leave so it turned into a fight except this guy goes crazy and pulls out a knife and STABS MY FRIEND TWELVE FUCKING TIMES, puncturing both of his lungs and leaving stab wounds on my friends lower stomach, back, and neck and my fiance was HOLDING HIS BLEEDING OUT WOUNDS AND CALLING 911
And yeah it was pretty touch and go for a bit there but my friend made a full recovery and came home yesterday so my fiance and I got him this cake.
He loved it.
I was wearing this outfit today to a grocery store when I made a baby smile. I was wearing this outfit today when I threw my head back and laughed, when I sang in the car with my family, when I filled it with yummy food to keep it healthy.
I was wearing this outfit today to a grocery store when I overheard a woman telling her young daughter who was pointing and laughing that I would get what’s coming to me. I was wearing this outfit today when a woman told a man that it was the wrong kind of attention and that I was asking for someone to get me. I was wearing this outfit today when the same man stared at my body longingly and then agreed with the woman that I was asking for an attack.
I was not wearing this outfit when I was raped. I was wearing a size XXL hoodie and a pair of my mom’s sweatpants, much to the shock of the friend I told after, who asked what she’d been taught to ask: “What were you wearing?”. I feel so terrible for the little girl whose mother was teaching her at the grocery store that she deserved to be assaulted if she dressed comfortably for the weather, which was climbing above 80 degrees, or for an injury, which called for a brace and a boot that doesn’t allow room for long pants, or for her body, because it’s hers and she can put on it what she damn well pleases. I feel terrible for the man who will look me up and down as though I was a 5 for $20 steak deal he might purchase and will immediately after speak to a presumable stranger about the violent fate I deserved. I feel terrible for the woman with fabulous hair who feels she can express herself but refuses to let me do the same.
Summer is coming up. It’s hot outside. I have an injured ankle, and a tight boot and brace to wear on one leg. I will not dress uncomfortably to protect complete strangers who are so offended by an expanse of skin that they console themselves by predicting my next rape.
Stop perpetuating slut-shaming and thus perpetuating a culture of excused rape. Stop perpetuating slut-shaming and thus perpetuating a culture of insecurity, inherent shame, and body image distortion which can cause an innumerable amount of incredibly dark issues nearly impossible to overcome.
My body is mine, and I love it. It is the house I live in, with which I will someday create a family, with which I run and dance and hold the strong lungs I use to sing. I refuse to be ashamed of it for any reason, especially the reason being that this culture which glorifies sex and punishes those who have it, which encourages being sexy and then preaches that sexy girls ask for attack, has taught its people that my stomach is a sin.
Please think twice this summer before you choose to say anything at all to or about anyone who wears something they choose to wear. Please think twice before you say that a girl deserves to be raped for wearing shorts. Please try and catch yourself when you think things like that. Please be courteous and gentle and loving, and spend your effort tackling real problems. My stomach and legs are not a real problem.
This. Spread this like wild fire.
I was raped myself and I was only 3 people will ask what I was wearing.
I miss him so much it takes away a little more everyday💔
aMeRiCaN hOrRoR sToRY
#alone
So, lets talk about recovery. It’s a hard thing to achieve. But I’m here to tell you, that recovery is very possible for every one of you. Things do get better. I’m only fourteen years old, and I can tell you everything about self destruction and the struggles teens deal with on a day to day...
it seems as if every girl hates herself.some girls just want to in and get attention.they dont known what its like to be locked in your own mind and there's no way out.no hope.like all is lost.then there's the girls who aren't attention whores and actually hate themselfs.I am one of them.lord knows I'm not proud.but its true.I hate my body and everything about me.only few people can make me smile.one of them is a tumbler.and I'm in love with her cousin...everyone has that person out there that can make them smile.if you don't have one then you have to find them.there is hope.your world is not falling apart.its falling into place.I love who ever is reading this.please.stay strong.
why is he so perfect?

