“If you look at the fact that you have a roof over your head, food to eat, that you are young and beautiful and live in a peaceful land, then no, you have nothing to be sad about. But the fact is, we are not only a physical body, we have souls too, and sometimes our souls get sick. If you break a leg you don’t just say ‘I have no reason to have a broken leg’ and ignore it; you seek help. It’s the same when your soul gets hurt. Don’t apologize for being sad.”—My doctor when I told her I had no reason to be sad (via hrive-ithiliel)
Ungggh, this is so good. Bless you, Rebecca Traister. <3
I wish it were different. I wish that every woman whose actions and worth are parsed and restricted, congratulated and condemned in this country might just once get to wheel around—on the committee that doesn’t believe their medically corroborated story of assault, or on the protesters who tell them that termination is a sin they will regret, or on the boss who tells them he doesn’t believe in their sexual choices, or on the mid-fifties man who congratulates them, or himself, on finding them appealing deep into their dotage—and go black in the eyes and say, “I don’t fucking care if you like it.”
SOMETHING I NEED NEED *WILL* KEEP IN MIND. I don’t fucking care if you like it.
If women and minorities taking on major superhero character roles (while the main characters are still prominently featured and going on new journeys) is offensive to you: PLEASE JUST UNFOLLOW THIS BLOG. No need to reblog me just to complain about “political correctness” and “pandering” and both…
And Joseph her husband, being a righteous man and not wanting to disgrace her, planned to send her away secretly. But when he had considered this, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying,