"i’m not bitter" i say, bitterly, with a bitter expression
My ideal significant other will eat all of my potatoes for me.
My ideal significant other will eat all of my potatoes for me.
Women against feminism are basically just arguing that their individual lives are fine and they don’t care about what other women go through
when she was 7, a boy pushed her on the playground–
she fell headfirst into the dirt and came up with a mouthful of gravel and lines of blood chasing each other down her legs
when she told her teacher what happened, she laughed and said ‘boys will be boys honey don’t let it bother you
he probably just thinks you’re cute’
but the thing is,
when you tell a little girl who has rocks in her teeth and scabs on her knees that hurt and attention are the same
you teach her that boys show their affection through aggression
and she grows into a young woman who constantly mistakes the two
because no one ever taught her the difference
‘boys will be boys’
‘that’s how he shows his love’
and bruises start to feel like the imprint of lips
she goes to school with a busted mouth in high school and says she was hit with a basketball instead of his fist
the one adult she tells scolds her
‘you know he loses his temper easily
why the hell did you have to provoke him?’
so she shrinks
folds into herself, flinches every time a man raises his voice
by the time she’s 16 she’s learned her job well
be quiet, be soft, be easy
don’t give him a reason
but for all her efforts, he still finds one
‘boys will be boys’ rings in her head
‘boys will be boys
he doesn’t mean it
he can’t help it’
she’s 7 years old on the playground again
with a mouth full of rocks and blood that tastes like copper love
because boys will be boys baby don’t you know
that’s just how he shows he cares
she’s 18 now and they’re drunk
in the split second it takes for her words to enter his ears they’re ruined
like a glass heirloom being dropped between the hands of generations
she meant them to open his arms but they curl his fists and suddenly his hands are on her and her head hits the wall and all of the goddamn words in the world couldn’t save them in this moment
she touches the bruise the next day
boys will be boys
aggression, affection, violence, love
how does she separate them when she learned so early that they’re inextricably bound, tangled in a constant tug-of-war
she draws tally marks on her walls ratios of kisses to bruises
one entire side of her bedroom turns purple, one entire side of her body
boys will be boys will be boys will be boys
when she’s 20, a boy touches her hips and she jumps
he asks her who the hell taught her to be scared like that and she wants to laugh
doesn’t he know that boys will be boys?
it took her 13 years to unlearn that lesson from the playground
so I guess what I’m trying to say is
i will talk until my voice is hoarse so that my little sister understands that aggression and affection are two entirely separate things
baby they exist in difference universes
my niece can’t even speak yet but I think I’ll start with her now
don’t ever accept the excuse that boys will be boys
don’t ever let him put his hands on you like that
if you see hate blazing in his eyes don’t you ever confuse it with love
baby love won’t hurt when it comes
you won’t have to hide it under long sleeves during the summer
the only reason he should ever reach out his hand
is to hold yours
Fortesa Latifi - Boys Will Be Boys
(And Why That Is The Stupidest Thing You Could Ever Say To A Little Girl)
I survived the abuse, but sometimes I wonder if I can survive the healing process.– "The Courage to Heal" (via therapistconfessions)
Hi im palely mcpalepale
i think we’re out of ink
have you tried turning it on and off again
Couples make me nauseated can’t wait to not be apart of one.
Dad: Why the hell did you put a comma there?
Dad: Do you even know what a participial phrase is?
Dad: Omg. He's like my favorite character of all time.
Dad: Who should I dress up as for the movie premier?
Dad: Hey are you awake? I know it's late, but you read Animal Farm, right? Yeah. I need you to read this report. I can't tell if I am just super tired or if this is actual bullshit.
Dad: Alesha wouldn't be able to spell 'definitely' right if wrote it down for her. She would fucking erase it and then write 'defiantly', because she doesn't care. I hate her.
Dad: I need you to bake brownies. I lost a bet.
Dad: Omg. You cannot ship me with Gilcher. You know I don't like tattoos and he's like twenty-five. And for Christ's sake, he teaches math.
Dad: Omg. Gilcher said the funniest thing today.
Dad: Mrs. Ashworth and I have decided to start a band. It'll be called Great Expectations.
Dad: It's like you didn't read the fucking book.
Dad: Okay. So this week you're reading this book I stole from Mrs. Ashworth's. It's like sixty pages long, but you'll love it.
Dad: *puts books on my bed for me to read everyday and demands that I read them*
Dad: My son doesn't like reading. I have not only failed him, but society. You aren't my son. Leave.
Dad: Okay. So you're getting books for Christmas. All of you. I get discounts on them since I'm a teacher, and since I'm a teacher, it's all I can afford, so...
Dad: Fucking standardized testing can go fuck itself in the ass.
Dad: I have to teach for the required testing instead of what they really need to know.
Dad: Fuck the government.
Dad: Fuck the school board.
Dad: Close the door.
Dad: Charles Dickens was so fucking pretentious, and I hate him, but he also caused change, but he's such a Dick. Ha. DICKens.
Dad: I love puns.
Dad: People who say sarcasm is the lowest form of humor are assholes.
Dad: Please shut up.
Dad: Catching Fire was the worst book but the best movie and that feels weird.
Dad: I wouldn't get so mad when you call me at school if you didn't change your ringtones to inappropriate rap music.
Dad: I fucking hate Alesha. She asked what countries were a part of Austria-Hungary today and I almost told her to get out.
Dad: You cannot visit my school in a dress that short. There are boys there.
Dad: Barbra Parks is fucking Queen.
Dad: I need you to make me a good, relaxing playlist for silent reading. I'm too lazy.
Dad: If I have to watch two of my students grind on each other at one more dance, I will kill them both.
Dad: They act like I care what they think.
Dad: I hate homework.
Dad: I have decided to become a politician.
Dad: What's the one book with the guys and the one kills the other and the chick without a name who dies and the short angry man? Mouseman? Oh my fucking gosh. Of Mice and Men. I have failed.
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