*snorts and giggles* Im so fucking braindead ive managed to get a 100 day duolingo streak
mini story: it was cousins birthday party and she brought some of her theatre camp friends, i was talking to her about how long my streak was and one of her friends asked what language i was learning and i said “russian, why?” And shes like “thats offensive to me” (SHE WAS JOKING DW) and i was like “why??” And she said “im ukrainian😀” And i was like about to kms in that moment istg
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its kind of funny to me hearing people talk about the offspring because its usually just you're gonna go far kid and dgmw thats an incredible song and its how i found them to begin with, but its so weird hearing people talk about it and their music and then never hear anyone mention probably one of the hardest hitting songs i've ever heard. i wish people could talk about gone away more
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Some things I want to do/achieve before summer break!
Finish reading Boyfriend Material
Drink more water
Better my grades
Grow plants/herbs
Keep my duolingo streak up (on 302 atm)
Properly wash my face every day
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something the women in my family are absolutely flabbergasted by every time it comes up is the fact that i don’t own a scale.
“how do you know how much you weigh??” they cry.
“i don’t.” i simply respond.
“you look thinner, have you lost weight?” they ask at christmas.
“i dunno.” i say as i check on the turkey.
“you look bigger, have you gained weight?” they probe, as if my weight rests on their shoulders.
“i’m not sure, but it’s fine if i have.” i respond with a casualness they cannot comprehend.
“don’t you want to know if you’ve lost or gained?” they inquire over cups of coffee and a plate of untouched cookies.
“i do.” i take a sip. “which is why i don’t need to know.”
“we don’t understand.” they say.
“i’ll drive myself mad if i know. it’s been a question i’ve been looking for the answer to since i was in the seventh grade and my weight was the topic of conversation for the first time; the stretch marks on my calves puberty brought being questioned and condemned. and so i started weighing myself once a day. then twice a day. i gained weight as i grew and was told to stop. i got depressed when i was 16 and the weight i gained was more concerning than the scars on my thighs. the critiques turned to compliments during my first year of college when i’d started skipping meals and my body had to feed itself because i wouldn’t. everyday i stepped on the scale and smiled as i watched that number get smaller and smaller. hunger felt like victory. i started doing drugs that took away my appetite and then my strength. and started feeling guilt when my stomach felt full. and suddenly every time i looked in the mirror i hated what i saw. the more weight i lost, the better i was supposed to feel. each remark on another part of my body lost felt like a slap to the face. i was told i looked good but i knew i wasn’t good enough. and so i tried harder. and then i started to get dizzy when i stood. and i ignored it like i’d learned to ignore my hunger. and then one day at work i dropped like the weight that was never enough after i bending at the waist to grab a milk cap from the floor. and when the darkness faded, i was surrounded by panic as an ambulance was called. and then i was tested and prodded and poked because they thought something was wrong with my heart. and the problem persisted but they never found out why. but i’d known all along. and then i left home and its scale behind. and moved into a new home that was mine. so i bought plates and sheets and art for the walls. but i didn’t buy a scale. then every time i walked down an aisle i’d see the them and pause. and i’d think about the hunger i now kept at bay. and even though i didn’t know how much i weighed, i didn’t notice my body had changed. and i’d think about how i hadn’t been dizzy for months. and how i hadn’t fainted for longer. and then i’d keep on walking. and now most days i like how i look.”
“but don’t you want to be skinny?” comes their quiet response.
“i want to be myself in whatever body i have.”
they stare in disbelief. so i shrug my shoulders, and grab a cookie. and i smile at them as i swallow the first bite.
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there are so many "if this gets (insert number) notes i'll do something productive/good for me!" but has there ever been one where someone goes
if this gets 10k notes i'll slap myself in the face
i suppose i'm wondering
would people be so eager to reblog if it would cause something slightly unpleasant?
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