Feminism, Politics, Laughs, and CATS...
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Reblogged from bravenewgirls  3,251 notes
  • What Kelly Rowland sang:

    I was in an abusive relationship. He was both emotionally and physically abusive. He was mentally manipulative, turning me against my best friend/sister and telling me she was the last person in the world who loved me. I was feeling low at a time when she was doing really well and that led to some feelings of jealousy and devalued self-worth, especially when I felt like there was nobody I could talk to about it. But when I did let her know what was happening, she was right there by my side.

  • What the blogs report:

    KELLY ADMITS SHE WAS JEALOUS OF BEYONCE IN ANGRY, CURSE-LADEN RANT SHE DIDN'T EVEN WRITE; SHE'S A HATER.

The fact that you’re struggling doesn’t make you a burden. It doesn’t make you unloveable or undesirable or undeserving of care. It doesn’t make you too much or too sensitive or too needy. It makes you human. Everyone struggles. Everyone has a difficult time coping, and at times, we all fall apart. During these times, we aren’t always easy to be around — and that’s okay. No one is easy to be around one hundred percent of the time. Yes, you may sometimes be unpleasant or difficult. And yes, you may sometimes do or say things that make the people around you feel helpless or sad. But those things aren’t all of who you are and they certainly don’t discount your worth as a human being. The truth is that you can be struggling and still be loved. You can be difficult and still be cared for. You can be less than perfect, and still be deserving of compassion and kindness. By Daniell Koepke (via internal-acceptance-movement)

Reblogged from decolonizeyourmind  4,209 notes

— Hey, hippie girl, you Mexican? On both sides?
— Front & back, I say.
— You sure don’t look Mexican.

A part of me wants to kick their ass. A part of me feels sorry for their stupid ignorant selves. But if you’ve never been farther south than Nuevo Laredo, how the hell would you know what Mexicans are supposed to look like, right?

There are the green-eyed Mexicans. The rich blond Mexicans. The Mexicans w/the faces of Arab sheiks. The Jewish Mexicans. The big-footed-as-a-German Mexicans. The leftover-French Mexicans. The chaparrito compact Mexicans. The Tarahumara tall-as-a-desert-saguaro Mexicans. The Mediterranean Mexicans. The Mexicans w/Tunisian eyebrows. The negrito Mexicans of the double coasts. The Chinese Mexicans. The curly-haired, freckled-faced, red-headed Mexicans. The Lebanese Mexicans. Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about when you say I don’t look Mexican. I am Mexican. Even though I was born on the U.S. side of the border.

By Sandra Cisneros “Caramelo” (via honeybrown)