#Mom: Me: "Mom

[anxiousangerball]

I don't know who needs to hear this, but

YOU DO NOT NEED TO START A NEW HOBBY!

STEP AWAY FROM THE TEXTILES!

YOU DON'T NEED MORE YARN!

THAT FABRIC IS NOT CALLING TO YOU! LEAVE IT ALONE!

#Mom can you pick me up I'm scared #That siren song is playing again #But wouldn't it be neat to dye spin weave sew knit crochet tat #OMG save me #Hobbies #Textile Arts #Crochet #Knitting #Weaving #Spinning yarn #Cross Stitch #Quilting #Never has Grandma Iris' voice been so loud in my head #(Miss you forever Grandma Iris)

[cactuseri]

collection

#seri.txt #these just made me laugh idk 😭 my mom and dad r also both like this #idk if someone’s posted these before but idc #seri’s hits

[daisychainsandbowties]

super curious today about how people feel toward the names they might have been given. apparently i used to ask my mom about my “boy name” several times a week and get really sad i couldn’t have both my given name and that name. being trans this is hilarious to me now so wondering

also curious how this intersects with being trans!! i feel like my fixation with it definitely had a lot to do with that, so idk add in tags? if you feel like being trans makes you more/less curious about it

#poll #you can ignore this but i AM curious #my might-have-been name was darcy 🫠🫠 my mom likes austen #but did she have to wet rag boy code me like that?? #prophetic though i am shit at parties and wet with rain

[murderballadeer]

people are so weird about babies like calling them crotch goblins, reducing being a parent "letting someone cum in you" etc etc etc like those are tiny little humans you don't have to want to have any of your own but they are literally just small people & it's weird to constantly describe them in crude sexual terms and/or as subhuman

#it bugs me. like i'll probably never be a mom but i genuinely rly like kids including babies #& obv not everyone does & that's fine but like it weirds me out how crude people choose to be abt them #soapbox #suggestive

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Y'know, there's this gripe I've had for years that really frustrates me, and it has to do with Love, Simon and people joking about it and calling it too-pg and designed-for-straight-people and all the like. (A similar thing has happened to Heartstopper, but that's another conversation.)

I saw Love, Simon in theaters when it came out my senior year in high school. I saw it three times, once with my friends/parents on opening night, once with my brother over spring break, and once with my grandparents.

On opening night, the air in the room was electric. It was palpable. Half the heads in there were dyed various colors. Queer kids were holding hands. We were all crying and laughing and cheering as a group. My friends grabbed my hands at the part where Simon was outed and didn't let go until his parents were saying that they accepted him. My friend came out to me as non-binary. Another person in our group admitted that she had feelings for girls. It was incredible. I left shaking. This was the first mainstream queer romance movie that had ever been produced by one of the main five studios, and I know that sounds like another "first queer character from Disney" bit but you have to understand that even in 2018 this was groundbreaking. Getting to have a sweet queer rom-com where the main character was told that he got "to breathe now" after coming out meant so much to me and my friends.

But also, from a designed-for-straight-people POV (which, to be frank, it was written by a bisexual author and directed by a gay man, this was not designed for straight audiences), why is it a bad thing that it appealed to the widest possible audience? That it could make my parents and grandparents see things in a new light? My stepdad wasn't at all interested in rom-coms but he saw it with me because it was something I cared about and he hugged me when we came out of the theater. My very Catholic grandparents watched it with me and though my grandpa said he still didn't quite understand the whole 'gay thing,' all he wanted was for me to be happy and to have a happy ending like Simon did. My Nana actually cried when Simon came out and squeeze my hand when his mother told him he could breathe.

And when Martin blackmailed Simon, my mom, badass ally that she is, literally hissed "Dropkick him. Dropkick him in the balls" leading to multiple queer kids in the audience to laugh or smile. Having my parents there- the only parents, by the way, out of my group of queer and questioning friends- made multiple people realize that supportive adults were out there. That parents like those in Love, Simon do exist in real life.

When people complain about Heartstopper not being realistic or Love, Simon being too cutesy, I remember seeing Love, Simon on opening night. I remember my friend coming out and my stepdad hugging me and my mom defending us through this character. I remember the cheers that went through the audience when Bram and Simon kissed and the chatter in the foyer after the movie was over and the way that this movie made me understand that happy endings do exist.

Queer kids need happy endings. Straight people need entry points to becoming allies. Both of these things can come together in beautiful ways. They can find out about more queer culture later, but for now, let them have this. Let them all have a glimpse at a better, happier world. Let them have queer joy.

#love simon #simon vs thsa #simon spier #spierfeld #bram greenfeld #my experiences #meta #the importance of queer joy #heartstopper #becky albertalli #my mom also watched rwrb with me last year when it premiered #and let me tell you that was interesting sitting in the room with her for an r-rated romance movie like that

[serialunaliver]

I think skinny people who have never been fat should shut up about who gets body shamed more permanently

#now that i'm thin again i'm realizing even people closest to me were constantly degrading me when I was fat #and no it doesn't hit the same as my mom saying i'm too skinny or whatever. i'll still go outside and be treated better. #and for what? why do you care?

[plague-parade]

i feel like we dont talk enough about how distressing and disturbing memory loss issues are. forgetting what you were talking about halfway through a sentence, putting something down and instantly forgetting where you put it. having to reread one paragraph over and over again because by the time youve moved onto the next sentence you dont remember what the one before it said. always doubting if your memories of things are real, not being able to remember important life events.

its so incredibly scary, it feels like your mind is constantly playing tricks on you and you start to doubt whats real and what isnt.

“i forgot” is treated like a lazy excuse when it’s genuinely such a big issue for so many people.

#this has been building up in me for a bit #i was talking to my mom and she brought up a concert we went to and i have zero memory of ever going #huge chunks of my life are just. gone. #every time i sew i put the needle down and spend fifteen minutes trying to find it #memory loss #memory issues #cognitive issues #cognitive decline #cognitive dysfunction

[wroniec]

Tara&Gale

#Gale #Gale Dekarios #gale of waterdeep #Tara #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate #rolled as Gale #5 mins in an emotional support cat with wings brings me a shoe to eat and tells me my mom loves me #Gale you don’t even know how lucky you are to have Tara

[catmask]

with that said there are characters that a fat maybe not canonically but they are spiritually. to me. they may not be drawn that way but i know whats true. ive seen it like a sort of prophet

#serizawa. send post #he did NOT live his life as a shut in for almost a whole decade to be drawn SKINNY! not by me at least #also like so many characters over the age of 30. no more fit moms and dads GIVE them that divorce body fat NOW! #*strikes you down with the force of god* #but honestly alternative for serizawa that ive always liked is that he gains weight when he starts working for reigen #because he can now go out and eat new foods :D he has actually gained an appetite because he's moving around more #and isnt just eating like instant ramen or whatever his mom brings him #see how easy it is you can just believe it with your heart. you just have to find the ways to make true waht u know #scratchpost #txt

[weavile]

the number you have dialed cannot be reached at the moment. please try again later.

#d20 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #fabian seacaster #killing me that fab never answers his phone but cant stop calling his dad. in hell. or wanting his mom to talk to him?????? ? ?? ? ? ?? #CALL HIM HALLARIEL

[bizarrelittlemew]

He succeeded 🥹

#ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death #ofmdedit #ofmdsource #ofmd gifs #ida.stuff #ofmd 2x8 #stede bonnet #this gifset made me a lil emotional ngl #it's like mom and dad sending their kids off to college

[strongermonster]

god i love little kids, they're like aliens, they're so bizarre.

i hung out with some pre-k kids today and told them my birthday was yesterday and it was absolutely Not Computing to them that i didn't get presents so they were bringing me random shit (pinecone, tiny rock, crust from sandwich, some smushed blades of grass, etc etc) and one kid brought me a handful of sand and as he was holding it out to show me how shiny it was, noticed there was an ant in it, and his instinct for some fucking reason was to lean down and suck in a mouthful of the sand/ant???????? and sent himself into a coughing fit. literally what and why the fuck would anyone do that

#big shoutout to the kid who gave me unopened lip balm tho #hope ur mom isn't mad bc i DID take that one #jj stuff

[emilyaxford]

#i thiiiiiink it was probably mary poppins for me but i have stronger memories of singin' in the rain and west side story #also i don't personally consider the wizard of oz a musical but i know that's a controversial opinion so i've included it anyways #polls #also also because this is tumblr i just want to caveat that these are based on my childhood movies and not a best-of list #my mom was predominately a dick van dyke/julie andrews/audrey hepburn/gene kelly kind of girl so that's what i got

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school. #like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it. #was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes. #but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create'' #when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent. #speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice. #''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession. #''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt? #u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky'' #we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

going through my old journals as part of therapy homework and i'm reading a section written in the emotional wreckage of a full-on breakdown when i get hit with this line:

There is never a satisfying answer to ‘Why didn’t they love me?’

like wow babe. good fucking point

#like you were on the ground biting the carpet and dry sobbing while you wrote that and still. good fucking point #not a shitpost #cptsd #and it's true. there's never a satisfying answer #the truth is i know why i wasn't loved #i analyzed my parent's traumas and abuse to death. i understand why i alienated and was alienated from my siblings #i know why my mom was too overwhelmed to be capable of nurturing #i know why my dad vanished into addiction and avoidance #the details of our cycles of trauma and cptsd and family history i have a phd in all of it #i understood perfectly. i spent years studying and now i knew the answer #and guess what? IT WAS NOT SATISFYING!!! #because they still didn't love me! and i still couldn't change that! #it was still a completely unsatisfying state of affairs! #so like. when the people who are supposed to love you...don't. #when the people who are supposed to take care of you...fail to #you can look for answers and reasons and explanations #but that's not actually going to FIX your situation. #and it's probably not within your ability TO fix the situation. (and definitely not your job) #because you don't need answers--you need a new situation #*inserts Just Walk Out. You Can Leave!!! (Running Skeleton) Meme* #and yes. walking out isn't always possible. #but for you i hope it will be one day soon. and i hope you build the courage to take that leap. #stepping away from the people who failed to love you...it feels like being untethered but also like being lighter than air #new and scary. immensely relieving. the future opens up. empty but empty like a canvas. blindingly bright until your eyes adjust #like climbing out of a pit you called home and for the first time realizing how bright the light of day can truly be #when you aren't just getting glimpses from the bottom of a hole

[radiojamming]

Have a sign from Grand Marais, MI that’s haunted me since childhood

#lake superior #great lakes #we go to this town every year and when i was a very wee little DJ #i used to beg my mom to take me to this sign #aaaand i called it the dead boys sign