An analogy I randomly thought of:
Would it really matter if a pizza came in a black or white box? would it matter if the box was large or small? or if the box was chunky or thin? Most people would say no because its the pizza we want or in other words “whats inside is what matters most”
So why dont we look INSIDE humans instead of judging the exterior.
I know I’m about to get talked down to when a post starts with “just a friendly reminder” or the just as popular “Can we please normalize”
need to normalize poeple’s wishes for sleeping all day. it really an act of mercy and we should respect that.
Petition to normalize getting boys flowers. They need love too, and it’s frustrating that it’s seen as a feminine “thing” to only bring flowers for girls. Please get your brother/father/boyfriend/best friend a flower. It’ll really mean a lot to them. Write them a little note attached to it and show them that you love them with this pure, genderless, powerful gesture.
Normalize this, normalize that. Can we normalize falling madly in love with me and wanting to be my friend?
Normalize sleepovers on a first date,
not even sex or anything of the sort, but then you find out faster if they snore, sleep with their blinds open, or other things you hate.
Normalize saying “motherhugger” as a compliment
Women’s clothes should have pockets and men should be allowed to carry purses. We are literally transporting stuff from point a to point b, who the hell cares how we do it?
From my experience, same shoulder is considered feminine, while opposite shoulder is considered masculine.
Oh, so manly. Johnny Appleseed over here, a real 1950s mailman, Indiana Jones looking motherfucker. Why is this where we draw the line? More to the point, why the hell is there a line in the first place?
Whatever you want to call it, purse, handbag, satchel, we should normalize this.
- Girls with body hair
- boys crying over somethings
- talks about periods, condom, sex education
- girls & boys wearing what they want
- girls fighting back
- boys being shy
- boys with long hair
- adult girls drinking alcohol
- girls going out at night without being scared
ALL OF THIS WOULD HAPPEN ONLY WHEN PEOPLE, ALL OVER THE WORLD CHANGE THEIR MINDSET AND JOIN HANDS TOGETHER TO BECOME CIVILISED CIVILIANS AND HELP EACH OTHER, FORM A HEALTHY, RELIABLE & SAFE ENVIRONMENT.
CAN WE STOP CRITIZING PEOPLE FOR LIKING CERTAIN COLOR OR DRESSING STYLE??
I’m having A Thought here.
Realizing that the _only_ time I’ve ever seen abortion presented in fiction as a simple medical decision and thing that just needed to happen was on Vida (great tv show. I am a freaking voracious reader and I can’t think of a single book example.). And that is bad, really really bad. Because abortion is not infrequently a simple medical decision and / or a thing that just needed to happen and we need to understand that as a society, which I guess means we need to normalize it.
I’m mostly a painter, my writing goes to a very very small audience. And abortion is such a swept-under-the-rug thing in this culture that I’m not even sure how to go about incorporating it in a normal-thing-that-happens way in fiction, rather than a pivotal-agonizing-plot-point way which I’m all too familiar with and wouldn’t want to do.
I’m not crazy. I say crazy things, I believe in the improbable, I act upon a basic instinct and impulse, but I am not crazy. I look at this illness, and it looks back. I know when it takes over, I know when I am no longer the one in control. I’m not crazy, I’m sick. I have no more an ability to stop the frantic tears and hyperventilation that I have to stop my heart from beating within my chest. The doctors will treat me like I’m crazy anyways. They don’t understand. Were they to ever have their mind consumed so thoroughly by fear as mine becomes in the midst of a panic attack, perhaps then they would understand that it is not me, it is the illness. That physical sensation that overtakes my brainwaves and penetrates my thoughts, it feels foreign, it sounds different than this voice I think through which is the essence of me. I’m not crazy. No matter how many times my mom yells at me that she’s confused and doesn’t understand why I’m so upset over simple things, I know at least, even if she does not understand it, that it is not me getting upset, it is the chemical make up of my neuropathy which is taking control. If I were crazy, could I uphold a sophisticated phrasing of words as such are written here? No. I think not. I’m not crazy, I’m just sick. There are many out there sick like me. We are not crazy, we just need treatment.
why can’t you just be happy?
because I’m not.
why do you always have to be so angry?
because I am.
why being so sad?
because I feel so.
Gently reminder: you don’t have to be sorry for your own feelings.
as much as i sound lost when i dive deeply into my own emotional awareness, i am right where i’m supposed to be. and i know how to swim in the waves of change. its just wet.
i think we need to reclaim the friend zone. my friends are in the friend zone. my partner would be in the realationship zone. my family is in my family zone. all of the zones are a loving place. they’re just different places. when i reject a guy who i just want to be friends with i want to say that i’m putting him in the friend zone without it being weird. i technically did it already and the guy and i are pretty good friends now. i love my friends (platonically) and they are in my friend zone.
normalize normalizing normally