See and I feel like a bitch for complaining about all this, but here’s the thing.
Because I’m not as slim as I “should” be, my mom has taught me the following:
-I’m not allowed to wear anything sleeveless.
-I’m not allowed to wear dresses that come above the knee.
-I’m not allowed to wear things that show my back.
-I’m not allowed to wear V-neck things, or things that might have cleavage showing in general.
-also she says I have ugly Flintstone feet (like the cartoon) that I received from my dad.
So I have huge problems with my body now. I can’t look at my arms anymore. The backs of my legs are horrible. I feel like I should find some sort of foot plastic surgeon to fix my feet. And it’s not something that I can just let go, because she doesn’t LET me. Every time I buy a sleeveless dress: “do you have a cardigan to go with that?” Every time the dress is possibly knee length: “I hope that’s not too short. You know your butt pulls it up in the back.” Anytime anything is cleavage bearing at all: “you need a tank top for that. Your boobs are falling out.”
And none of this is religious. I don’t know what it is. I do know that it has given me incredibly detrimental thoughts about my physical appearance. I can’t try on an outfit in a store without thinking about her or what she would think of it. I can’t wear shorts. I don’t go swimming because… Good lord, what would I wear? Just the other day I tried I buy a really cute swimsuit and she talked me out of it because there wasn’t wiring under the cup of the bra. This was a made for more busty women swimsuit top. It said so on the tag. But I didn’t get it because of her. And I know that that sounds like a puss out. But it’s just… She takes the fun out of it. I would look at that top if I had bought it, and know, oh she hates this.
Basically I just burn in the summer because I wear jeans and long sleeves.
I don’t know how to confront her because every other time I’ve tried to have an adult conversation with her she just brushes me off like it’s nothing. I know she’d get pissed off at me if I tried to tell her that what she says to me about all her “fashion advice” actually really hurts me emotionally and mentally. It’s frustrating because I’m twenty-one years old. I’m an adult, dammit. I’m not supposed to feel so undermined and helpless. I’m supposed to be able to wear what I want, at the very least. And have adult conversations. But I can’t even do that, and it’s pissing me off.
there’s a group of men on the tv answering a survey about “how much they really know about women” and they asked “which percentage of women do not orgasm from intercourse alone” and they all answered 15 when the real answer was 75 and their faces were just abysmal it gave me life
And then the one day that I have a colorful dress to wear, we don’t get ready in time for church. So I was going to wear it for family lunch. Then I get told to wear something comfortable instead, and then get yelled at when I’m irritated for buying a dress I don’t get to wear.
AT DINNER MY PARENTS WERE TALKINBG ABOUT MY FUTURE WIFE AND LIKE TELLING ME STORIES THEY WERE GOING TO TELL HER AND I COULDNT STOP LAUGHING AND THEY THOUGHT THEY WERE SO FUNNY UBT I WAS ACTUALLY LAUGHING because im gay as hell
AU The Fault In Our Stars where Hazel Grace succumbs to the cancer and dies and in the last scene all you see is Augustus standing out side with a cigarette between his lips and a hand slowly reaching up to light it.
HOW ABOUT NO
WOW I DIDNT KNOW SOMETHING COULD BE WORSE THAN THE ACTUAL ENDING NOPE BYE