GOD REST MY SOUL I MISS WHO I USED TO BD THE TOMB WONT CLOSE STAINED GLASS WINDOWS IN MY MIND I REGRET YOU ALL THE TIME!!!!! I CANT LET THIS GO I FIGHT WITH YOU IN MY SLEEP THE WOUND WONT CLOSE I KEEP ON WAITING FOR A SIGN I REGRET YOU ALL THE TIME!!!!!! IF CLARITY'S IN DEATH THEN WHY WONT THIS DIEEE????? YEARS OF TEARING DOWN OUT BANNERS YOU AND I LIVING FOR THE THRILL OF HITTING YOU WHERE IT HUUUUUURTS GIVE ME BACK MY GIRLHOOD IT WAS MINE FIIIIIIIRST!!!!!!!!!
i keep watching videos of people going to the eras tour, girls dressing up with their friends, trading friendship bracelets with strangers, crying to surprise songs, holding each other during their favorite set. singing, and dancing, and screaming, and crying and all of it just feels like pure happiness. there's something so special about the unapologetic way girls get to just purely be themselves at the eras tour and it makes my heart so warm inside.
and it's not a gender thing, but the way teenage girls have constantly seen their interests diminished and overlooked makes this sense of community so much more special.
for so long i felt like there was something wrong with being stereotypically girly. god forbid pink is your favorite color, or you listen to pop music, or you have a stan account and posters of a boyband on your bedroom wall. god forbid you're still strong, and smart, and interesting.
and maybe it's because i'm in my twenties now, and i'm finally figuring out who i am, because fuck, being a teenager sucks, but i can look at the girls crying from their nosebleeds seats at the eras tour, or the girls dancing in line for a harry styles concert, or the group of friends that yelled "hi barbie" to me from their pink dresses on the other side of the street, and feel like there is a part of current pop culture, of mainstream media, that is finally, finally, allowing girls to experience girlhood without shame.
we love taylor. we love each other. look at us and the cute bracelets we trade with strangers. look at our pink outfits to go watch barbie at the theatre and our feathery boas at harry concerts and our kindles full of romance books. look. it's all so pretty.
i spent all my money on concert tickets, i'm going to the eras tour next year. i already warned everyone i'll cry during long live.
i'm making bracelets. i have a pinterest board for my outfit. i'm sharing ideas, because everyone else is doing the same. i made a playlist of my favorite songs and named it after taylor swift. i found an old one direction poster and put it back up on my wall. i learned how to crochet, and the first thing i made was a flower. the yard is pink. it's my favorite color.
i did my makeup. i read my favorite sally rooney novel on the train, with my headphones in. i'm twenty and i'm thirteen, and i'm nine, when pink was still my favorite color. i'm all of those girls, and all of them are me.
it really is the girlhood no one can't take away. it was ours first. we're taking it back.
Hi. Chances are, if you still follow me on here, you know me from a past life, by a different name. A life and a name that I’ve been trying my hardest to run away from for ten years.
I can finally say it. He groomed me. He hurt me. And it’s taken me all this time to be able to realize it and identify it. I refuse to use his name anymore because he lost all credibility and respect years ago.
I was 19 when we started talking, 21 when he died. What business does a 40something have talking to a 20-year-old? Yeah, fine, I was young and naive and dumb, but that’s all the more reason why he should have known. But he didn’t (or, more likely, he did and just didn’t give a shit), and I’ll have PTSD for the rest of my goddamn life.
I know you didn’t believe in Hell, but wherever you are, I hope you know that I’m still here, I’m still alive, and I’m stronger than you ever thought I could be. Which is more than you can say, you fucking disgusting creep.
gente, eu vou me intrometer um pouquinho nessa situação porque sinto que preciso falar sobre isso. é um bagulho que tá passando direto pela minha tl aqui do tumblr e eu fico preocupada real com essas coisas, me sinto segura o suficiente com as pessoas que me seguem pra saber que vocês vão me entender! mas seguinte, espero de verdade que ninguém que é menor de idade me siga, embora eu agradeça muito o apoio, eu só posto conteúdo +18 e fico com o pé atrás de pessoas tão jovens terem acesso a obras que, querendo ou não, vão influenciar na sua vida.
vocês podem achar que não, mas influencia. até mesmo sem você perceber. o ponto é que eu vejo relatos, às vezes, aqui e fico preocupada porque gente, vocês tem que viver a idade de vocês. eu garanto que a hora de vocês fazerem 18/19/20 anos vai chegar e vocês vão experienciar várias das coisas sobre as quais a gente fala aqui, mas vocês não precisam correr com isso. o principal que eu vejo é o fator de se relacionar com pessoas mais velhas, eu entendo o apelo e eu sinto esse apelo, mas nós, escritoras, somos maiores de idade. e na maioria das vezes, isso aqui é ficção.
já é perigoso se relacionar com uma pessoa mais velha quando se é maior de idade, a lista de possíveis traumas é infinita então imagina como isso se multiplica quando você não tem idade suficiente pra saber distinguir certos comportamentos? parece muito aquele discurso de "aí, somos mais velhas e sabemos mais", mas gente, não é! eu prometo pra vocês que tem coisas que a gente só aprende com o númerozinho da idade crescendo kkkkkkkk
a questão aqui é que eu peço pra que vocês tomem cuidado, não pulem as fases de vocês porque a pior coisa é se tornar um adulto e perceber que você viveu algo que, na época, não deveria estar vivendo.