heckingemma - Tumblr blog

[heckingemma]

[heckingemma]

Oops I forgot to post any of my digital stuff so uhh here it is

[heckingemma]

This was for a draw this in your style challenge on instagram but I’ll go ahead and post her here too

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Super late on this one and it’s got a super tacky background but look I tried also I love these girls

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Long time no see but here’s opal

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Omg I love this so much!!💕💖

Makeover Time with Fashionista Steven!

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Hey guys I’m back and super excited for the new episodes of Steven universe next week!!!!!!!!!

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Regret

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Ive been wanting to make this foreverrrrrrrr!!

[heckingemma]

Sorry for the lack of posts again but this is what I’ve been working on for the past few days and it’s for a contest on ig but yes I’m super happy with how she turned out and wish me luck!!!!!💖💕💖💕

[heckingemma]

She’s judging you

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It’s mermay so ya know mermaids

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hey guys, hope your skin is clear and you get a text from someone you like real soon.

also that your lunch tastes good, you find twenty dollars on the ground, and that thing coming up that you were dreading turns out not so bad

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IRIS!!!!!

[heckingemma]

My name is Aubrey and i am a lesbian. I didn’t ask to be a lesbian, I was born like this. I wouldn’t get rid of it if I could, but it certainly hasn’t made life easy.

Being a lesbian means that coming out is met with awkward silences or a step taken back. It means the person’s eyes widening in surprise. It means “but you don’t look like a…” It means them looking at my hair with a new mindset. Short hair. Of course.

I don’t have short hair because I’m a lesbian but they don’t really care. It’s a stereotype that fits nice n pretty in their little head.

Being a lesbian means having boys try to turn me straight. It means being told I’ll change my mind when I get older. It means having people laugh. It means cocked eyebrows. It means straight guys minds traveling to that lesbian porn they watched last night. It means them calling it a kink. It means they think my sexuality is “hot.”

Being a lesbian means if I have any political opinion I’m a crazy “feminazi.” It means I’m just a dumb girl with no right to speak my mind. It means if I fight for that right, if I raise my voice, I’m laughed at, I’m mocked. It means fighting for lgbt rights as people tell me that I shouldn’t care this much. It means people telling me that me being a lesbian shouldn’t be my whole personality. It means nobody understanding that when I’m fighting against homophobia, I’m fighting for my right to live. I’m fighting for my right to love. And unlike every straight person on this damn earth, me and the rest of the lgbt community will have to fight til we’re dying.

Being a lesbian means people judging me for discovering my sexuality through the internet. “You’re just gay because it’s cool.” “You’re just gay because everyone on the internet is gay.” Being a lesbian means wondering what the fuck I was supposed to do when there was no other way for me to know. When I was young, there was no representation on television. My mom never sat me down and told me what the word gay meant. Nobody did. Being a lesbian means growing up in a world that tried to hide my identity from me. It means never seeing a character “like me.” It means growing up watching 5 year olds with a straight romance side plot. It means having friends in fifth grade all giggling over boys they liked and crying at night because I didn’t and I wanted to. I knew I was supposed to and I couldn’t understand why I was different. It meant wondering if I’d ever fall in love. It meant wondering if I was broken.

Being a lesbian meant faking crushes on boys because I wanted to fit in. Because people told me I should. It meant realizing at 13 that those weird tingles I got when my best friend held my hand weren’t the normal friend feelings. It meant finally having an answer when I joined social media and the words gay and lesbian, trans, bisexual, they all had meanings. And I wasn’t broken. I was a lesbian. I didn’t have to like boys. The fact that i’d never felt anything for boys was okay. It made sense. I suddenly understood myself. I finally was myself.

Being a lesbian means wincing at every “do you have a boyfriend yet?” “Any cute boys at school caught your eye yet?” People laughing when I said gross. People laughing when I said I don’t like boys. “Oh trust me, one day, you’ll see everything differently.” It means wondering if I could ever really tell my family. Would they still love me, if I couldn’t provide the handsome husband with perfect hair and charisma and everything they’d ever seen for me? Would they hate me?

Could I ever truly be happy?

Being a lesbian means fear. It means not being allowed to wear my gay pride shirts to school because some kid with parents who snarl at the idea of me holding hands with my girlfriend in public might decide to beat me up, attack me.

Kill me.

It means being told I have nothing to be proud of. It means anger. Anger at being told that I shouldn’t be proud as if lesbians and gays and trans people haven’t killed for being themselves, just for being themselves, as if people like me haven’t been forced into hiding for so long that the fact that I can finally say “I’m a lesbian” is a miracle. Anger that people think this kind of love is unnatural when this is all I’ve ever known.

Being a lesbian means saying the words “my girlfriend” gives me an adrenaline rush. It’s hearing people say “I’m okay with gays, I just wish they wouldn’t shove it in my face,” as though I haven’t spent my entire life watching, reading, listening to heterosexual romance. It’s on bulletin boards, in every magazine, on television, in every love song they play on the radio. It means wondering why people hate you so much just because you like the same gender. It’s staying single on Facebook because there are people who might see, who might not approve, people who might ruin the relationship you’ve found even though you’re so happy. It’s having your partner cry over the phone because their parents probably won’t come to your wedding one day. Crying because their parents might go as far as disowning them, might never want to meet me or know them for who they really are.

It’s wondering what you did for everyone to be so unaccepting.

Being a lesbian means listening to every song sung by a girl about a girl, or by a boy about a boy on repeat until they’re all you hear. It’s crying when you saw that Australia legalized gay marriage because finally, hope. There’s hope for us.

Being a lesbian is a gift in my heart. But the hatred of the world has tainted it.

Being a lesbian is hard. It’s stereotypes and fear and fighting. It’s looking at a guy or a girl too long because you think they might be gay and you’re praying they are because all you want is someone to be like you for once. It’s living in a strong republican state and being surrounded by people who either hate or tolerate you, and having all your friends who are straight that can never truly understand.

Being a lesbian is being stuck in a long distance relationship because your soulmate is a girl and she’s not here. Because finding a gay girl here is like trying to find a hair in the middle of a grassy field.

Being a lesbian is hell. But it’s a hell that I’d still choose if I had the choice.

Being a lesbian is my life. And it’s worth it. But it’d be nice if I didn’t have to fear for my life when I walk out the door in a jacket with the words “I’m gay” on them. It’d be nice if my life could stop being debated like my rights are nothing. Like I’m nothing. It’d be nice if people learned to love a little instead of sitting in a puddle of their own hate, eyes aflame because I kissed my girlfriend in front of their kid.

I’m a human being. And itd be nice if you’d just teach your kids that they’re allowed to be whoever they want, instead of hiding the truth from them, telling them they have to marry a certain gender, like that’s possibly your choice to make. Like it or not, they’re going to be themselves soon enough. And hiding me, hiding the words gay and lesbian from them?

It will turn them into a self hating mess when they get older.

Being a lesbian is hoping that one day people will learn. Lesbian isn’t a cuss word. It’s not something that your kid won’t understand. And telling them the truth isn’t going to turn them gay. But thanks for your homophobic ideals anyway.

I’m aubrey and I’m a lesbian. There’s my two cents.

[heckingemma]

Well whoops it’s been a while

[heckingemma]

MY GURLS also if y’all didn’t know I’m gonna make a comic soon I’m just trying to save up money for a tablet to do it on cause I want to to look good