So much yes in this.
How to talk to your daughter about her body, step one: don’t talk to your daughter about her body, except to teach her how it works.
Don’t say anything if she’s lost weight. Don’t say anything if she’s gained weight.
If you think your daughter’s body looks amazing, don’t say that. Here are some things you can say instead:
“You look so healthy!” is a great one.
Or how about, “you’re looking so strong.”
“I can see how happy you are – you’re glowing.”
Better yet, compliment her on something that has nothing to do with her body.
Don’t comment on other women’s bodies either. Nope. Not a single comment, not a nice one or a mean one.
Teach her about kindness towards others, but also kindness towards yourself.
Don’t you dare talk about how much you hate your body in front of your daughter, or talk about your new diet. In fact, don’t go on a diet in front of your daughter. Buy healthy food. Cook healthy meals. But don’t say “I’m not eating carbs right now.” Your daughter should never think that carbs are evil, because shame over what you eat only leads to shame about yourself.
Encourage your daughter to run because it makes her feel less stressed. Encourage your daughter to climb mountains because there is nowhere better to explore your spirituality than the peak of the universe. Encourage your daughter to surf, or rock climb, or mountain bike because it scares her and that’s a good thing sometimes.
Help your daughter love soccer or rowing or hockey because sports make her a better leader and a more confident woman. Explain that no matter how old you get, you’ll never stop needing good teamwork. Never make her play a sport she isn’t absolutely in love with.
Prove to your daughter that women don’t need men to move their furniture.
Teach your daughter how to cook kale.
Teach your daughter how to bake chocolate cake made with six sticks of butter.
Pass on your own mom’s recipe for Christmas morning coffee cake. Pass on your love of being outside.
Maybe you and your daughter both have thick thighs or wide ribcages. It’s easy to hate these non-size zero body parts. Don’t. Tell your daughter that with her legs she can run a marathon if she wants to, and her ribcage is nothing but a carrying case for strong lungs. She can scream and she can sing and she can lift up the world, if she wants.
Remind your daughter that the best thing she can do with her body is to use it to mobilize her beautiful soul.
Daisy Lola (via fullybalanced)
Stop faking your fucking orgasms. Society already tells young men that they run the fucking universe - if they can’t turn your cunt into a shooting star then for god’s sake, let them know about it.
As an atheist, I see nothing “wrong” in believing in a God. I don’t think there is a God, but belief in him does no harm. If it helps you in any way, then that’s fine with me. It’s when belief starts infringing on other people’s rights when it worries me. I would never deny your right to believe in a God. I would just rather you didn’t kill people who believe in a different God, say. Or stone someone to death because your rulebook says their sexuality is immoral. It’s strange that anyone who believes that an all-powerful all-knowing, omniscient power responsible for everything that happens, would also want to judge and punish people for what they are.
This is a pixie bell.
Here we see Walt Disney, flying. Does he react with spinning around the room, cutting flips, and soaring out the door? No, he says “Get this stuff off of me!”
This is everyday stuff for Mr. Disney, folks. Everyday stuff.
Same look and smile.
#god bless hermione granger who was thrust into a world that didn’t fully welcome her for what she was#but who took that world by the fucking balls and showed everyone who was in charge#god bless hermione granger who refused to let racist assholes ruin the magic for her#who could still smile like that even after shit started getting real#hermione who never met a puzzle she didn’t like#who broke the rules when it was important#who burned with ambition and intelligence and devotion and bravery#hermione who was taunted and tortured for her looks and her blood#by teachers and schoolmates and death eaters#whose abrasive know-it-all personality tended to tick a whole lot of people off#but who never apologized for any of these things#never apologized for who she was#never allowed her curiosity to be dampened or her beliefs to be put aside#god bless hermione granger who fought harder than anyone to carve out a place for herself#they could say or do whatever they liked#but she was hermione granger and she was a muggleborn#and she would be damned before she let anyone take that away#your faves could never(via jessicawakefields)
men aren’t too terrible i guess
If my husband to be doesn’t tear up at the sight of me in my wedding dress, then I will gracefully ride away on my big black horse and leave his sorry emotionless ass behind.
That’s what really scares me.
Falling in love is easy. Having sex is easier. But bumping into someone that can spark your soul - that shit is rare.
You could fuck four, five, all the people in a god damned room and you’d only feel a connection with one. Or none at all.
And what sucks is despite the undeniable real magnetic pull between the two of you, more often than not, you don’t end up together.
I’m afraid I won’t meet anyone else I can connect with.
I’m scared it’ll be just you.
It’s Shakespeare’s 450th birthday! Let’s celebrate! (Full post here - http://goodticklebrain.com/home/2014/4/23/happy-450th-birthday-shakespeare)