Tumgik
#I'm tired of beauty standards
invacuo9 · 1 year
Text
everytime you look in the mirror and CHOOSE to feel good despite the supposed flaws in appearance, you win. remember that. fuck the system.
7 notes · View notes
starflungwaddledee · 2 months
Text
this is a long shot and i'm sorry to ask, but if you don't mind, can mutuals (or contacts or regulars... just... this community) of mine who aren't jumping ship like... let me know? will any of us still be here? is it over? i'm trying to know if this really is it or what's... even happening. i hate to reassurance seek but i'm feeling pretty miserable and confused.
edit: felt like i was being really pitiful and fragile making this but everybody is being so nice to me and responding so patiently with all your thoughts and i'm in tears of gratitude thank you thank you thank you 💖
118 notes · View notes
thegirlinthecher · 2 months
Text
You're not going to fix body shaming or negativity by telling someone who doesn't like how their body looks, that they're wrong and that they are beautiful.
Why does everyone and everything have to be beautiful? Sometimes, you can just be. And there's nothing wrong with that. By normalizing compliments about appearances, you're just ensuring that people who don't meet an impossible standard spend their whole life feeling inadequate.
13 notes · View notes
ohnoitsthebat · 2 years
Text
i think one reason that i get so annoyed/upset with people de-aging milf and dilf characters in fanart is that it perpetuates the stereotype that life ends at 25, and it doesn't. not at all. i don't know if that's an american thing, a western thing, or just a thing in general, but it has bothered me for a long time, even more so as i've gotten older and reached the age where my own aging is becoming visible.
there's nothing wrong with growing older. life does not end at 25. life does not end at 35. at 45. at 55. you are not less of a person because of some arbitrary number, and i'm really tired of society acting like that's the case.
i want to see characters with wrinkles and laugh lines and frown lines and eye bags. i want to see characters that look their age. it's okay to age. the whole obsession with youth is dangerous, as it makes people feel like once they hit a certain age, they don't deserve to enjoy life. or like they are "old" because they have a few wrinkles (or a lot) or gray hair (like I have since I was in my late teens).
the world is hard enough as it is. we don't need to add to it by imposing ridiculous standards on ourselves.
234 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I can't express how hillariously bad this is.
7 notes · View notes
facsimila · 22 days
Text
everytime you guys have a plus size fc for a muse just know i'm blowing them kisses.
6 notes · View notes
hopelessrussian · 5 months
Text
you can't even imagine how much i'm jealous of people like kelly piquet
she was born rich, she dates a rich man who is never going to dump her, her whole life are parties and travelling, her only job is posting something on instagram and looking pretty
she has EVERYTHING i wish i had 😭😭😭😭😭 how the hell someone lives like this and doesn't even have to worry about anything
8 notes · View notes
dangeroustyrantalpaca · 8 months
Text
Stop showing me unattainable standards of beauty. It doesn’t help me with my already melting image of myself.
2 notes · View notes
adair-the-bard · 8 months
Text
hell is when you google whether something that is said beauty ads is true or not, and all the answers are "according to the CEO of Maybelline, skin moisturisation is important and buy our products" like shut up
#rant incoming (didn't intend for it to be this bad)#i live with some people who spread a lot of false rhetoric about hygiene so i end up googling this sort of thing regularly#i don't trust anything anyone says about hygiene if they have skin in the game#'actually not shaving is super unhealthy. be sure to buy our razors!'#'actually your fingernails need manicures regularly. buy our $200 manicure kit!'#'actually you should wash your hair every day with coconut oil shampoo. don't miss out on our half off deal on shampoo!'#like i'm trying to figure out if one of these people i live with has done serious damage to my cuticle and everything i get is#'book a manicure with us!'#no! i'm worried for my health! i don't want a manicure!#and i want people to not be manipulated into believing your lies about beauty so that /i/ don't have to deal with damage to /my/ body#and the constant bombardment of comments about being unhygienic unhealthy and disgusting that has honestly ruined beauty for me!#maybe i'd experiment with beauty products more if the people around me didn't treat them like they fixed your (ugly and terrible) body#also while i'm complaining about beauty standards. i hate shaving leg hair. maybe i'd like it more if it was my choice to make#but rn i am so scared because i had to shave my legs for something and it isn't growing back as fast as i am used to#and leg hair is something that makes me feel good about myself#but yeah sorry for the rant#tired of beauty products and beauty standards being forced onto me and it materially ruining my life as well as mentally
3 notes · View notes
oh-katsuki · 2 years
Note
could you expand on your "“all bodies are beautiful” bc while the sentiment is correct, it is not what needed to be said on that post" pls?
i'd be happy to. thank you for asking.
so when i say that what i mean is that it's not what the post is about. if the post is just a picture or drawing of a chubby person, that doesn't inherently make it an act of protest or body positivity. it simply exists. it is just a person. ofc, this is different if it's expressly about body positivity or the account focuses on body positivity/neutrality but for the sake of the argument, let's say it doesn't.
what i mean by that statement is that I'm tired of people looking at a picture of a chubby person and thinking "wow!!! so much confidence!! i love the acceptance!!" instead of "that is a person or a drawing of a person". there doesn't need to be a reason for commenting or reblogging posts with chubby people in them. it actually kind of sucks to reblog a picture of someone who looks like me and have people reblog it being like "wow!! body positivity!!" "accept everyone!!" because..... quite frankly that's common sense and the post itself isn't revolutionary or a statement just bc it has a fat person in it. it's exhausting.
so while the sentiment is good and correct and it's fantastic that people are saying it, there is a time and place for it. it actually becomes exhausting to hear that shit all the time bc sometimes fat people just want to exist. like that's the extent of it. we just want to exist without having to be reminded that in most social spheres... it is NOT common sense to treat fat people kindly and with respect.
13 notes · View notes
unblessedbyaphrodite · 4 months
Text
Don’t report this, please, just block. I need a place where I can let out my problems and this is the only platform I can use because no one on here knows me, I don’t have any friends from my life on here. Also, I’d like to say this isn’t me seeking attention or empty compliments from strangers. This talks about eating habits, very briefly mentions ‘sex’ — but it is not described, nor discussed — and is overall just really fucking sad. Read with discretion. Art below is not mine.
Tumblr media
I can’t express the deep hatred I truly feel for myself. I hate the way I look, the way I act, the way I’m perceived, the way I talk, the way I laugh. I hate everything about myself far too much to be considered healthy.
Ever since I was little I’ve been body-shamed, I grew up a bigger girl — that’s not to say my unhealthy eating habits didn’t contribute to my weight too. I think I drowned myself in food because I was overweight, or maybe it was because I had no boundaries, or maybe I was punishing myself because my dad had left when I was a baby. Maybe if I’d had the daddy every young girl needed I’d have grown up mentally secure — even if he was a horrible, lazy cheater. He would’ve been good to me, I like to think.
The body shaming got to be too much, one summer — just before I was going to go into year nine — I decided I needed to lose weight. I hated the way I looked more than anything, but losing weight didn’t help either. Now, rather than only wanting to stuff my face with everything in sight — I want to stuff my face and then hurt myself after eating too much of the wrong stuff.
I hate when there’s chocolate in the house, because I’ll always sneak some into my room to eat some — maybe even have two or three chocolates a day. But then, other times, I won’t eat anything, or I’ll only eat very little at lunch for some days — trying to conserve as many calories as possible.
Eating in restaurants makes me feel physically ill. I wish they hadn’t passed that stupid fucking law which meant calories were shown next to the food on the menus — but I also love that they have. It makes me feel so conscious about choosing what to eat — and then I’ll chose the lowest thing on the menu, it’s usually a lasagne.
I’ve lost loads of weight apparently — I really don’t see a change, in all honesty. My stomach is still there, whether I’ve lost weight or not, it’s not flat. I’m so fucking worried it will never be flat. I just want to be perfect — and it’s not for everyone else it is actually for me, so I feel secure in myself because I really fucking don’t. I don’t know if I ever will — and that really scares me.
I don’t understand why I act the way I do — I am constantly changing my personality or the way I act to please people. I constantly over-sexualise myself, always talking about sex, masturbation, fanfiction — everything dirty and taboo, I will talk about it in front of you even if I’ve known you for a few weeks or so. It’s fucking disgusting and I hate that I have a compulsive need to act that way but I just think that if I can make someone laugh, embarrass myself to get them to like me it’s fucking worth it. I want people to want me so badly, I will make filthy jokes with the boy who said he’d kill me in ‘kiss, marry, kill’ — where I was the joke option, of course — because as long as he keeps talking to me, or thinks of me as a back-up option if all else fails for him, it’s worth it all.
Besides that disgusting shit and being loud and annoying when I feel a need to, I’m actually a really quiet person. People who aren’t in my classes for subjects where I’m with my friends wouldn’t know that. I actually get so terrified talking to people, but my best friend is a fucking angel who everyone adores because she talks to everyone and is so nice to everyone. I am nice to everyone too — as long as they show me basic fucking respect, I’m not a pushover the way she is, and because of that I’m the mean friend.
People (my friends) are always making fun of the way I talk, the way I laugh, I don’t think my voice or laugh is weird — well, I didn’t until the idea was forced into my mind. I refuse to send voice notes because the idea of something cringing as they hear my voice or laughing at me speak — even if I can’t see their reaction — scares me massively.
I want to be loved, desperately. No one wants to love me. I have so much love to give, I don’t understand why no one wants it.
1 note · View note
musical-chick-13 · 11 months
Text
.
#personal rant in tags#(because I NEED to get shit off my chest and I might as well put it here)#I HATE. /HATE/. how much stock we (as a society) put into how people look#I hate that there's bias in EVERYTHING toward people who naturally seem closer to some arbitrary standard of attractiveness#I hate how people are judged by their bodies and literally not anything else#I hate that I'm expected to completely overhaul my appearance and keep doing that day after day after day to be seen as worthy of#respect and support. I hate how many times I've been interested in someone only for people around me to say 'oh but they're not#hot why do you like them?' I hate how the only time someone has ever outright expressed interest in me is when I looked like someone else#I hate how I'm not the only person who has experienced this that I know SO many instances of this#AM I NOT WORTHY OF RESPECT JUST BY VIRTUE OF BEING A HUMAN? ARE WE NOT ALL DESERVING OF LOVE AND SUPPORT BECAUSE WE ARE ALIVE???#GENUINELY I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. YOUR OUTWARD APPEARANCE HAS /NOTHING/ TO DO WITH WHO YOU ARE AS A PERSON#IT DOESN'T INDICATE ANYTHING ABOUT HOW KIND OR UNDERSTANDING YOU ARE. WHAT YOUR INTERESTS ARE. WHAT YOU VALUE. HOW YOU SPEND YOUR TIME.#like...obviously I'm not perfect and I've still gotta de-internalize some stuff too!#but sometimes it feels like everyone is just so SHALLOW and JESUS fucking CHRIST am I /TIRED/#I have never been '''pretty''' I will never BE '''pretty''' WHY DOES THAT BOTHER PEOPLE SO MUCH???!!#like genuinely just. it's one of the (many) things that has driven a wedge between me and my mom. it's made dating almost impossible.#it made a career in stage acting so much harder than it already was. truly it has put me at some sort of disconnect with a lot of humanity#AND I'M SORRY BUT THAT IS SO FUCKING /STUPID/ IT SHOULDN'T BE LIKE THIS WHY AM I BEING JUDGED ON THESE GROUNDS#*sigh* this was another reason why letting go of Her™ was so hard tbh. she didn't care what anyone looked like not even me#she made me feel beautiful because she genuinely liked who I was as a person. the one time I had this and look where we ended up lmao#...god this not-relationship really fucked me up didn't it sometimes I forget how much everything hurt me and how far back I set myself#because of it#ANYWAY we're probably not gonna sleep tonight :)#In the Vents
1 note · View note
eddie4lyfe · 1 year
Text
Feminism swinging back and forth between 'Beauty is bad' to 'Beauty is good' is exhausting.
0 notes
seananmcguire · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
I know I periodically ask people to look at Alice, but I would like to explain why.
That, above, is Alice when she was just ten days old. It was December 2008, and I had gone to Seattle to prepare to die. I was tired, I was dealing with a massive disruption in my social circle, and I was done. So I went to see friends, and to say my goodbyes before I went home and politely made my exit. I had a fully articulated plan, and no desire to tell people about it, which is not a good place to be.
Then we went to visit Betsy, who had recently ushered a litter of kittens into the world. And she put this little blue tabby potato in my hand and said "That's the girl."
And just like that, I decided to live. "Do you take checks?" I replied, and Alice entered my life.
(That makes it sound much easier than it was. Betsy was intending to keep Alice, who was without flaw by Maine Coon breed standards. Seriously, she was the kind of cat breeders work to produce for their entire careers. I spent two months wearing Betsy down before she agreed to let me have her.)
Alice was my first Maine Coon. Alice was my heart and soul somehow walking around outside of my body. She was without flaw. She was everything I wanted in this world, and she loved me as much as I loved her, and I would happily trade a year of my life for another hour with her in my arms.
In 2017, I went to Australia as a convention guest, and when I came home, Alice wasn't right. She was always food-motivated, and she was refusing to eat. I made a vet appointment immediately, and we started the necessary tests to find out what was wrong. Roughly a month later, while I was at another convention, my vet called me.
"I am so so sorry," she said, and the world ended.
Alice had large-cell feline lymphoma. It wasn't a surgically treatable cancer; we were going to have to go through chemo, and hope. So we did. And we did everything it was possible to do. Thanks to my Patreon, there was never a point where I had to decline treatment due to money, and I know what an incredible gift that was. Bit by bit, she faded, but she was still my Alice, and we were still fighting.
Then, on February 13th, 2018, I woke up and she was stretched out along my side from hip to knee, making the worst sound I have ever heard every time she took a breath. I didn't want to let her go. I could no longer make her stay. We left for the vet immediately, and my oncologist agreed that she was done; she was ready to go, and the last gift she gave me was staying by my side, not running and hiding like most cats would.
I held her. I sang "Beautiful Beast" for her. And she went ahead of me to the clearing at the end of the path, to the place she stopped me from going.
I miss her more than I knew I could miss anything in this world. She was my best friend and my favorite thing, and my mother told people I'd lost a child to explain why I would just wander around, dead-eyed and sobbing. Alice saved me when I didn't think it was possible, and I'm grateful; I have no such plans at this point.
But fuck my poor, broken heart, I just want her to come home. And in the absence of that as an option, I want everyone to look at Alice.
Please look at my poor girl.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
astrxealis · 1 year
Text
research is sooo painful.
1 note · View note
vanteguccir · 2 months
Text
Atelophobia | Matt Sturniolo
Tumblr media
Matt Sturniolo x reader
Summary: Where Y/N has suffered with an eating disorder for years, but lately, - because of the some "fans" and social media - her insecurities have been taking her to a more than dangerous path, which she couldn't get out without help.
Warning: anorex!a, eating disorder, comparison, self sabotage, self hatred, panic attack, pure angst... PLEASE read with caution!
Requested?: No.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
PS.: This is not intended to trigger anyone or an instruction of how to lose weight. Read at your own risk.
PS. 2: Written by a girl - me - who goes through this every day.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Atelophobia; the fear of not being good enough.
This was one of the millions of fears and problems that haunted Y/N's mind. Her head convinced her a long time ago that she simply wasn't enough; for her school teachers, for her classmates, for her friends, for her parents, past boyfriends... not even for herself.
This led her to listen to what others said and thought about herself since she was very young, the desire to be perfect and within society's standards in all aspects of a human being consumed her; personality, thoughts, knowledge... body.
She was told all the time how she should behave, act, and be. She was just a child, but that didn't seem to matter to those who did it, clogging her up with responsibilities and comparisons.
One thing led to another. Her desperation to be the best at everything started to include her own body. "Fat" was the first word people used to describe her. She had no control over the situations around her, but she had control over her weight.
Y/N was always the biggest girl in her class, and her classmates seemed to love reminding her of that; often being excluded from work groups, forgotten in groups of friends, or not chosen in any team during Physical Education classes.
Until the year when everything changed. During the school vacation, she decided to change, intending to return to school as a new girl. The new cycle started well, Y/N saw a nutritionist, cutting out all fatty foods from her routine and consuming only healthy ones. She started going to the gym daily, doing the recommended training time. All of this led her to lose a significant amount of weight.
Soon, the vacation was over, and with that, the negative comments from her classmates were replaced by positive comments. Girls asking what she had done to lose weight like that, searching for advice and seeing her as a miracle. Boys saying how changed and prettier she looked.
How could she not fall in love with her own illness?
So, that made her feel good. Too good... her mind began to yearn to become thinner, more beautiful, just to hear more from others. And then the healthy diet and the one hour training at the gym were no longer enough for her. She needed more if she wanted to be better.
Y/N then intensified her training, staying at the gym for 2 hours per day, doing more reps with more weight. She crossed out several foods from the list of permitted that her nutritionist had made, choosing for herself the ones she thought were ideal, until it had almost nothing left.
Her brain self-sabotaged so that she wouldn't go out with her friends, because they would definitely want to eat somewhere and she wouldn't be able to.
She no longer participated in family dinners, creating excuses so as not to be forced to sit at the table and eat.
Her mind convinced her that she wasn't thin enough to satisfy her boyfriends' sexual and non-sexual desires, which made her pull away during or at the beginning of any relationship she had until the guy got tired, or she simply ended it.
She spent hours on the internet, searching for sensational diets that reduced daily calories to 500 or less, promising extraordinary weight loss. In addition to getting on the scale at least 4 times a day, hoping for a miracle every time she looked at the numbers.
Y/N replaced her eating schedules with random hobbies like drawing, learning a new instrument, or picking flowers from her garden to make flower crowns, occupying her time and mind.
Some things scared her, her period hadn't come in months, clumps of hair fell out every time she ran her hands through it. Her vision went dark at least 3 times a day. Her body shivered from the complete cold of her insides, and her stomach hurt more than usual.
But she had to suffer them alone since she had no one to talk to about, always alone.
Until Y/N met Matt.
Matt was the boy who made her want to get better. He encouraged her to look for a hospital that fit her preferences, where Y/N finally began to receive psychiatric and psychological care.
Her diet changed for the better, into foods that Y/N saw as safe. She did not abandon the gym but reduced the weight and time, maintaining her training just for the health of her muscles, as she had lost a lot of lean mass during her worst moment.
The calculator in her head finally stopped. Her eyes started seeing food as just food and not as the enemy. Her stomach craved for all the snacks she loved, and she finally ate them, without feeling guilty.
Matt was so thoughtful about her entire situation, having suffered himself with extreme anxiety from a young age. He could tell he understood in parts what it was like to live with a mental illness.
So he helped her maintain her healthy diet and eat all her daily meals within her limit - often opting to eat together in their room, since he knew the trepidation Y/N still felt about doing it in front of other people.
Matt praised her in every possible situation, trying not to be extreme but to show his intense love and support for the girl. All of that was helping her a lot.
Until it wasn't.
Y/N and Matt never hid their relationship from the public, the girl knew how famous her boyfriend was and how difficult it could be to keep their relationship hidden, they would be seen together at one time or another.
So it wasn't surprising that the girl appeared in some of the triplets' pictures sometimes, and that's what happened that Friday.
As usual, Nick posted a photo dump on the triplets Instagram to promote the publication of their new car video, and one of the photos was of Matt and Y/N, specifically one in which the two were sitting on the couch in their living room, the girl had her legs draped over Matt's thighs, while his tattooed arm wrapped tightly around her waist, huge smiles decorating their faces.
It was a cute photo, but apparently, that wasn't what fans thought.
While Matt and his brothers were in the kitchen, preparing healthy snacks - a habit they built through the girl, but which in the end helped everyone -, Y/N was lying on her bed in the room she shared with Matt, wrapped in too-warm covers, holding her phone with her right hand while her left hand wrapped around her stomach in an almost painful grip.
Her thumb scrolled through the comments screen beneath the post. Almost everyone there talking about her picture with Matt.
"Matt can do so much better than her"
"I really don't know what he saw in her"
"She's going to end up crushing him like that"
"I'll pay for the gym for her if that's the price for Matt to have a worthy girlfriend"
And so on, it was as if they knew all of Y/N's weaknesses.
Some fans of them could be cruel when they wanted to, and Y/N knew this by heart since seeing Nick crying several times because he was body shamed, or when she noticed Chris being quieter than usual after reading comments saying how loud he was and how that was unbearable.
Her heart was crushed every time she saw Matt suffer in silence until he couldn't hold it in any longer and finally cried in her lap for hours after reading people saying how insignificant and quiet he was in the videos.
Even though a huge mass of the fandom loved them with all their hearts and took care of them as much as the distance of a phone screen allowed, it still wasn't enough to swallow the hate comments.
But when it came to Y/N, more than half of the fandom turned against her. Maybe out of envy, but it was obvious that the girl didn't see it that way. She was convinced that they were right.
Her heart tightened as if someone was crushing it with their bare hands. The air seemed to escape her lungs, and the lunch she ate hours before seemed to want to go up her throat. Her fingers trembled as she held her stomach, feeling everything she had and didn't have there. Her eyes began to water, her lips quivering from the tears that wanted to escape.
Y/N quickly moved her finger to the back button, hoping to break out of the horrible cycle she was about to enter. A loud sob escaped her lips when, upon finally leaving the post, her feed reloaded, and a picture of a model that Y/N followed and admired appeared.
Comparison was her biggest enemy.
Negative thoughts about herself began to pollute her mind, everything around her becoming a fog. The sounds coming from the kitchen became muffled to her ears. Y/N's right hand - which was holding her phone - was gripping the device in such a way that her fingers turned white. Painful sobs escaped her mouth as her eyes remained fixed on the woman's perfect figure.
Why can't I be like her?
The longing for the sensations she felt when she starved hit her chest hard. The desire to want to be as thin as before - or more - filled her.
It didn't take long, and soon, the bedroom door was slowly opened, Matt's silhouette appearing behind it. His face was lit up with a smile - probably because of some joke his brothers made - while his right hand held a plate with two sandwiches.
His cheerful expression was replaced by a frown of concern. Matt quickly closed the door with his feet, walking towards the bed, haphazardly placing the plate on the nearest bedside table before sitting down on the mattress.
His hands flew to Y/N's waist, stopping over her own hand that was squeezing her skin with a force that was sure to leave it bruised.
The girl seemed to wake up from her trance, lifting her head and meeting Matt's calming - but worried - gaze. She cried harder as she imagined what her boyfriend would be thinking of her now.
Automatically, her mind started to play her current state, messy hair, swollen and red face, skin wet with tears, eyes half closed and mouth open, allowing sobs to escape from there.
"M-Matt-" Her sentence was cut off by a sob, her eyes closing tightly.
Matt took a deep breath, trying to process what to do next. His left hand - the one that didn't cover hers - slowly took the phone, taking it out of his girl's death grip. He glanced briefly at the screen, automatically understanding what was happening before locking it and putting the device aside.
He moved his body so that it was closer to hers, resting his hand on her spine and guiding her until she laid her head on his chest, caressing the area below his fingers.
Matt felt his heart break with every tremble that rocked the body beneath his caused by the sobs. If he could take that pain away from his girlfriend, he would.
"It's okay, baby, let it out. I'm right here." He cooed, his fingers caressed the tangled strands of her hair lightly, stroking the area while moving his upper body back and forth, slowly calming his girlfriend.
"Ma-Matty-" Y/N's voice was weak, wobbly from the pain in her heart.
Matt removed his hand from hers for a few seconds, stretching it to the bedside table - where the plate was -, taking the bottle of water that Y/N always filled before going to sleep. He opened the lid in one quick movement, bringing it close to his girl's face.
"Come on, my love. Sit down for a moment and take a sip of water. Please." The boy asked in a soft voice, helping Y/N straighten her posture before bringing the bottle closer to her lips, helping her take a few small sips of the contents.
He closed the bottle after making sure she was satisfied, placing it on the mattress before turning his attention to Y/N again. He brushed away the strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear.
"What if they're right?" She asked in a whisper, catching her bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt to keep from crying.
"No, they aren't." Matt's tone was convincing, as if he was absolutely sure of what he was saying. "You are not worse than others because of your weight. You look great as you are. Your body is perfect, do you know why? Because he's healthy enough to carry you around and take care of you." The boy held her hands lightly, stroking the back of her fingers gently as he looked into her eyes. "The recovery journey is not easy, I remember the words your psychologist said to me when we had that session together. I imagine your head when you see clothes getting tighter, and these comments certainly make you want to give up, I know you, baby."
He paused momentarily, watching her reactions carefully.
Y/N knew that, recovery was hard work. Not wanting to die was hard work.
"Recovery is not a race. You don't have to feel guilty about taking less or more time than you originally thought or having relapses from time to time. This is part of the process, and I want you to understand this. You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life. When I look at the most beautiful things, I remember you. In the pink tulips of the flower shop across the street, in the Cassiopeia constellation, in the bees that fly in our garden and in the greenest tree I have ever seen." Y/N let out a tearful laugh when she heard him mention the tree, knowing his immense love for nature. "Because you're pretty like them."
"I-I'm sorry." The girl whispered, sniffling then lowering her gaze in shame. "I... I saw the photos that Nick posted, and there were comments..." She shook her head, closing her eyes tightly.
"Oh baby." He leaned slightly over Y/N, sealing his lips over her warm forehead. "If you want to apologize, let me do it. If you went through this now, it was because of me."
"No, Matt. It was never and will never be your fault." Y/N shook her head, wiping her eyes momentarily with the sleeve of her - his - hoodie, sniffling slightly before taking one of Matt's hands, intertwining their fingers. "You don't control people, much less through the internet. They will always talk a lot because they are behind a screen that protects them, but that will never be your fault. I would rather go through this a thousand times and have you with me than never have you again."
"I understand." He paused momentarily. "Please, don't let it get to that point again while you're alone. If you see something that upsets you or makes you feel bad, turn it off instantly and call me. I want to be there to help you. I want to be there for you." The brunette asked, staring at her eyes.
Y/N sighed, nodding her head and leaning slightly closer to him, resting her forehead on Matt's shoulder, exhaling the softening scent and perfume that exuded from the fabric of the hoddie on his body.
Her eyes burned from the tears she shed, closing them tightly to prevent more from falling, her heart still feeling sore from everything.
"If you want, we can contact that psychologist again, the one who helped you throughout the process at the hospital." Matt lowered his head, bringing his face closer to the back of Y/N's head, pressing his lips against his girl's hair, closing his eyes as he felt the warmth of her body close to his. "I want to attend some sessions just like we did last time, so I understand how I can help you this time."
Y/N felt her heart warm instantly, her free hand snaking to Matt's thigh closest to her, stroking the covered skin lightly.
"Okay."
Matt loved Y/N more than he loved himself, and he would make sure that she understood that she wasn't alone anymore.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋
And remember to treat people with kindness always!
‼️: If you relate to any of the things that I wrote on this, feel free to send me a message, my DMs are open!! I'm always open to talking to you all. You don't need to suffer alone. You're all super strong, and you got this!! I love you 🩷
Tumblr media
~ taglist:
@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife
(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)
892 notes · View notes