Install this theme

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is eight years old, she’s got pink cheeks that her grandmother calls chubby. She wants a second cookie but her aunt says “you’ll get huge if you keep eating.” She wants a dress and the woman in the changing room says “she’ll probably need a large in that.” She wants to have dessert and her waiter says “After all that dinner you just had? You must be really hungry!” and her parents laugh.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is eleven and she is picked second-to-last in gym class. She watches a cartoon and sees that everyone who is annoying is drawn with a big wide body, all sweaty and panting. At night she dreams she is swelling like the ocean over seabeds. When she wakes up, she skips school.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is thirteen and her friends are stick-thin ballerinas with valleys between their hipbones. She is instead developing the wide curves of her mother. She says she is thick but her friends argue that she’s “muscular” and for some reason this hurts worse than just admitting that she jiggles when she walks and she’ll never be a dancer. Eating seconds of anything feels like she’s breaking some unspoken rule. The word “indulgent” starts to go along with “food.”

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is fourteen and she has stopped drinking soda and juice because they bloat you. She always takes the stairs. She fidgets when she has to sit still. Whenever she goes out for ice cream, she leaves half at the bottom - but someone else always leaves more and she feels like she’s falling. She pretends to like salad more than she does. She feels eyes burrowing through her body while she eats lunch. Kate Moss tells her nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, but she just feels like she is wilting.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is fifteen the first time her father says “you’re getting gaunt.” She rolls her eyes. She eats one meal a day but thinks she stays the same size. Every time she picks up a brownie she thinks of the people she sees on t.v. and every time she has cake, she thinks of the one million magazine articles on restricting calories. She used to have no idea a flat stomach was supposed to be beautiful until she saw advice on how to achieve it. She cuts back on everything. She controls. They tell her she’s getting too thin but she doesn’t believe it.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is sixteen and tearing herself into shreds in order for a thigh gap big enough to hush the screams in her head. She doesn’t “indulge,” ever. She can’t go out with friends, they expect her to eat. She damns her sweet tooth directly to hell. It’s coffee for breakfast and tea for lunch and if there’s dance that evening, two cups of water and then maybe an apple. She lies all the time until she thinks the words will rot her teeth. She dreams about food when she sleeps. Her aunt begs her to eat anything, even just a small cookie. They say, “One bite won’t make you fat, will it, darling?”

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is seventeen and too sick to go to prom because she can’t stand up for very long. She thinks she wouldn’t look good in a dress anyway. Her nails are blue and not because they are painted. Her hair is too thin to do anything with. She’s tired all the time and always distracted. She once absently mentions the caloric value of grapes to the boy she is with and he looks at her like she’s gone insane and in that moment she realizes most people don’t have numbers constantly scrolling in their heads. She swallows hard and tries to figure out where it all went wrong, why more than a granola bar for a meal makes her feel sick, why she tastes disease and courts with death. She misses sleep. She misses being able to dream. She misses being herself instead of just being empty.

A FAT LITTLE GIRL
is twenty and writes poetry and is a healthy weight and still fights down the voices every single day. She puts food in her mouth and sometimes cries about it but more and more often feels good, feels balanced. Her cheeks are pink and they are chubby and soft and no longer growing slight fur. Her hair is long and it is beautiful. She still picks herself apart in the mirror, but she’s starting to get better about it. She wears the dress she likes even if it only fits her in a large and she doesn’t feel like a failure for it. She is falling in love with the fat on her hips.

She is eating out with friends and not worrying about finding the lowest calorie item on the menu when she hears a mother tell her four year old daughter “You can’t have ice cream, we just had dinner.
You don’t want to end up as a fat little girl.”

Why do we constantly do this to our children? /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

obamallamatime:

Hello, Police? I accidentally stepped on my cats foot and need to be arrested

musicfoundme:

IF YOU WANNA BE MY LOVER

YOU GOTTA tell me really explicitly because I can’t tell when people are actually flirting with me

ratchetmelancholy:

White privilege is your history being taught as a core class and mine being taught as an elective. 

rupsidaisy:

plucking your eyebrows is legitimately very stressful because you pull out one wrong hair and it’s game over

dualpaperbags:

paulmcfruity:

This Icelandic police force has the most adorable Instagram account 

Meet the Reykjavík Metropolitan Police, serving the capital of Iceland. By the looks of their incredible Instagram account, a normal day includes holding kittens, eating candy and wearing false mustaches.

There’s more where those came from | Follow micdotcom

For the record the Icelandic police are probably the best police force in the world, There has only been one instance where an officer shot and killed a civilian in the entire history of the country (which is nearly a hundred years) and everyone was completely devastated by it, the police especially — because, as made clear in their statements after the incident, they understand their function is to protect the people. Not to mention that their general police go unarmed except for special squads.

Let’s run through some more facts while we’re on the subject: Compared to 31,000+ shooting deaths in the US in 2009, Iceland had… 4, because they have very rigorous screening processes for gun permits. There is very little economic disparity between upper, middle and lower classes, and social welfare programs take care of their people. Drug use affects less than 1% of the population between 15 and 65 years old, and 90% of drug-related court cases are settled with a fine rather than jail time. Violent crime is virtually non-existent. [x]

Iceland is like if you took the entire idea of chill and personified it as an country, and this exemplifies that. 

ellierose101:

striderkid:

dokidoki-artichokee:

hamburgurl:

1 universe, 9 planets, 7 seas, 7 continents, 809 islands, 204 countries, and I had the unfortunate luck of meeting u

THERE ARE 8 PLANETS, YOU UNCULTURED SWINE.

VIVA LA PLUTO FUCK YOU

I’m pretty sure “Viva la Pluto fuck you” is the best sentence I’ve heard all week. 

wrapi:

when the teacher forgets that there was homework and someone makes sure to remind her that there was

image

dysfunctunal:

i don’t want you, i want your netflix password

sofiaauditores:

*inhales* what a beautiful day *exhales* to play video games for 15 hours straight

batcii:


Anonymous said: u should totally draw some poc!hermione bein cute man. like readin in her books or tryin 2 tame her wild hair or having to put up with ron and harry.

hermione bein cute and multitasking while she gets dressed or s/t woo

batcii:

Anonymous said: u should totally draw some poc!hermione bein cute man. like readin in her books or tryin 2 tame her wild hair or having to put up with ron and harry.

hermione bein cute and multitasking while she gets dressed or s/t woo

  • me:

    i'm going shopping do you want something?

  • friend:

    nah, i'm fine

  • *arrives*

  • me:

    *eating cookies*

  • friend:

    give me one

  • me:

    are you fuckin kidding with me

telapathetic:

atheists who look down on people for being religious

image

chocolaty:

clestroying:

why wedding dresses gotta be white

tru i wanna wear black to my wedding