#It gets better

[itgetsbetterproject]

We brought LGBTQ+ youth from around the country to meet each other in LA and gave them disposable cams to capture the queer joy.

And you can help us do it again!

Last month, we spent time in Los Angeles with 10 of the most exceptional young LGBTQ+ people ever, aka our Youth Voices! We talked about serious topics (politics, identity, and the future) and some not-so-serious topics (ok they take Chappell Roan VERY seriously actually).

But no matter what we discussed, one thing shone through: their joy. Being together, a group of ten queer people from around the country, was one of the most joyful experiences.

Joy is a superpower. It’s what keeps LGBTQ+ youth thriving, defiant, and full of life. With legislation targeting our very existence on the rise, youth may be facing relentless attacks, and we really need them to know that no law, politician, or hate can strip them of their joy.

So it's that time of year, y'all: consider donating to support our work so we can keep making queer joy happen for these LGBTQ+ youth - not just through Youth Voices but also through other programs like:

🟣 Funding student-led grants for LGBTQ+ empowerment projects in middle schools and high schools across the U.S. through 50 States 50 Grants — we've funded more than 140 of them in 47 states so far

🟣 Creating affirming and educational content that reaches youth directly on Youtube, Twitch, and TikTok with queer creators and storytellers

🟣 Building LGBTQ+-affirming classroom/GSA club resources like our free, downloadable EduGuides

🟣 Supporting It Gets Better initiatives in 19 other countries around the world...

...and like, a lot more!

You can donate here directly to see a breakdown of where your support goes, and pick up some merch designed by queer artists in the shop here! Truly, couldn't do it without you. 💜

[thoughtdoe444]

୨୧

[psyches-posts]

I chose life now though it gets better ...eventually

In another world i was not born in a dysfunctional family with an emotionally absent father and mother with anger issues. Death and tragedy didn't reach me,so i was able to keep my soul and sanity. Thats my fantasy,another reality,where everything would have been different and I wouldn't have to resort to death as a solution,an escape of my present.

[averysillygoose]

it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again.

[positivelypositivethoughts]

[fairy-switchblade]

I remember the first time I cut a butch’s hair for them. The nervously asking them if they were sure and explaining I wasn’t a hairdresser, just a femme, and wouldn’t they rather find an inclusive barber. The cutting a tiny little bit and checking the length was okay. The fumbles of trying to figure out how use the trimmers and the scissors, and the butch being so so so patient with me.

I remember watching YouTube tutorials and researching what products were good, and researching different styles popular across the butch and transgender community, and learning the vocabulary, and practicing.

I remember what it felt like to cut my butch friend’s hair yesterday. They sat on a stool in their kitchen and had a cup of tea, and we listened to gospel radio. My nails were extra crisp and pointy because I’ve just had them done, so the sectioning was easy as pie. We did a restyle, and they loved it. We had a laugh trying to wash their hair out in the sink whilst their cat tried to ‘save them’ from being ‘drowned’ by me.

In a little million ways, every day, we tell people that we love them.

In a little million ways, every day, it really does get better.

[justchillinoutinmeb0x]

Election

I would like to make one thing very clear. I voted for Kamala, I support Kamala and I do not support the man who is about to be the first convicted felon to take office.

My page will always be a safe space for queer people, trans people, People of color, women, children of immigrants, immigrants, democrats, liberals, pro-choice, people of all religions. if you voted for Trump unfollow me, if you support Trump unfollow me, and if you don't support any of the groups listed above you need to remove yourself from my page.

this wasn't a normal election, I respect everyone's right to their opinion but this was different. this was an attack on minority rights, on women's rights, on the department of education. this wasn't an election it was a slaughter.

as a US citizen, I am terrified, if you need someone to talk to please reach out I am here.

Please remember; you are loved, you are worthy, you deserve the same rights as everybody else. please don't stop fighting, please stay.

[positivelyqueer]

hi to any teenagers who might be reading this. I’d like to give you one perspective on ‘it gets better’ as a very mentally ill queer trans twenty something.

I am no less mentally ill than I was as a high schooler. Differently sure but not less. I still struggle a lot. But I’m so much better at dealing with it. Life is no longer one long grey drudge. I’m not confined within it.

I continue to constantly grow and evolve. I learn new things about myself all the time. I lean into old hobbies. I dress how I want. I get piercings and tattoos. I understand what my autism is and treat myself kindly because of it. I trans my gender in new, fun and authentic ways.

And I have so much choice now. I can cover my bed in plush animals. I can buy floral bowls from second hand stores that remind me of my nan. I can eat dinosaur shaped pasta out of those bowls. I can make friends with so many people, not just the two or three dozen I was locked in with in my high school. I can try new hobbies. I can join clubs. I can decide one day I want to take the train to the beach. I can paint my light switch covers. I can volunteer. I can learn. This choice can be terrifying but it is also so so freeing.

I’m carving out the life I want to live, even if the only tool I have is my bloodied fingers. Please stay. It’s worth it. I promise.

[muscatjello]

Birthday girl-moding!! 🥳🎂

[itgetsbetterproject]

merry gay christmas yall

[thepeacefulgarden]

[27paperlilies]

I promise you it gets better.

A version of you somewhere in time and motion is smiling, eyes bright and heart full. Please wait to meet them, they have something to tell you.

When days are gray and mind in decay, close your eyes and picture another day. They exist I can assure you, new days with better beginnings and happy endings. All ahead of darkend times, the sunlight peeks golden in due time. Its going to be fine.

[making-mxtakes]

Be the person your teenage self wanted and needed in their life.

You may not be able to change the past but there will be a kid out there screaming to know people like you exist.

[positivelypositivethoughts]

[fraugwinska]

If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx

Hey anon - I hope you are doing well. I couldn't let this one sit too long in my inbox... Whatever you are going through: I hope this will help you with a bit of comfort. (I do hope I didn't misinterpret your ask...) I send you the biggest hug, my dearest! <3 TW:Self Harm,Depression,Angst - Minors DNI - 1.3k words

You were doing so well. So, so well.

Arguments with Alastor occurred from time to time, but you had done so well in not letting them become full-blown fights. His rationale and your restraint had always managed to hold the worst at bay and settle any troubles with a few deep breaths, calm words and a compromise. It was something you were hugely proud of, something you had never been able to do before, and with him - you finally seemed to manage.

But now, after a tirade of harsh words, hurtful remarks and slammed doors you are alone in your room, curled up in a bed that feels much too big and streaks of cold tears on your cheeks. Immediately after you stormed out Alastor's radio tower you regretted your tone, regretted what you said, the way you got irrationally upset and how you provoked him - just to hurt him. You were unfair, cruel even, and the worst part was you didn't mean a single thing you said in the heat of the argument. Of course, Alastor said some choice words to you too, nasty things said in cold calmness, but only in reaction to your emotionally charged onslaught. And it didn't change the fact that you had done him wrong, over a fucking triviality that spun out of control.

It doesn't change the fact that the feelings and thoughts you feared slowly return, thoughts of your inadequacy, your worthlessness, your shortcomings all coming back into your head in one big punch of guilt and insecurity. Spiraling, you feel yourself getting more and more tense, like a pressure cooker without a valve, ready to burst. Your chest hurts - no, everything hurts: Your chest, your arms, your head, your heart.

You had done so well.

But you are desperate, panicked - you've pushed the one person away that was able to ground you, the only one that could make you feel safe and strong enough to withstand this urge, this need to hurt, to release. You bury your nails in your thigh, but it is far from enough. He must hate you now, and could you blame him? No, no you couldn't, and you push yourself off the bed, almost frantic.

Release, release, release - where is it? The shame you hid when you first moved into the hotel, the valve you had used so often to momentarily drain yourself from this burdening pain, the tool you had to use because you weren't reborn in hell with the fortune of sharp talons.

The loose floorboard creaks under your erratic steps. Ah. There. Hidden under your feet, untouched for so long. You start to cry again as you kneel down, lifting the panel. You feel like a failure.

Sorry, I am so sorry, your head chants as you reach for it with trembling hands, please just let it be a little less, just a tiny, little...

"Darling..."

You freeze. His voice is quiet, tune- and toneless echoing from behind you. It sends a new shiver through your tense, quivering body. Your hand hovers over the small object but you can't move it away, eyes squeezed shut in defeat. Your brain races, thinking of anything to say but coming up empty.

"My sweetling, whatever you're looking for under there...", he continues slowly, softly, each step of his dressing shoes against the parquet resounding painfully loud in your ears. You're so mortified by him catching you in the act that the tight coil in you seems ready to snap. "...will not do you any good."

He halts when when he is next to you, kneeling down. You feel his shoulder brush your back as he lays a clawed hand on yours and gently pulls it away from the hole in the floor. Your shoulders begin to shake with ragged sobs and his tender touch on your cheek prompts you to tilt your head, face hot, and to look him into his eyes that seem both understanding and sad.

"Harming yourself will only make you hate yourself more than you regrettably already do."

You try to breathe, but fail miserably, choking on the air around you. How could you justify what you were about to do, how could you hurt him again like this, with this action, with this thoughts, after everything you both have worked for? You had done so well - Why didn't you have it more under control, like you should?

"I'm sorry, A-Alastor... I'm sorry, s-so sorry, please..."

He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, steady embrace. One hand comes up, stroking your hair in tender movements, shushing you quietly as he lets you sob into his shoulder. The longer he holds you the easier it gets to draw deep breathes, until you finally manage to draw in the air that your body lacked so much. With each rise and fall of your chest, you feel a tiny bit of the panic fade, as if his soothing static draws it out in humble waves, soft and soothing around and inside you.

"I know, darling...", Alastor murmurs, kissing the top of your head and tightening his hold, "It's all long forgiven already."

A shattered sigh escapes you. How could he do all this for you? Accept you, with all the flaws and mistakes and shortcomings? How can he forgive you with such gentle ease? And still care for you, despite and including it all, why? How?

"Please don't hate me..."

He only loosens his grip when you stop trembling, carefully taking your chin between his claws, prompting you to break the chain of self-degrading thoughts and silencing the whispers in your head as he locks his eyes on yours.

"I could never, darling, even if I tried. But you need to understand: You are fighting the most vicious and cruel enemy there is, my love.", his face is void of the smirk he often wore, the one he doesn't use to tease or ridicule, or mock, it's his serious smile. The one he wears when he's about to be blunt. "Yourself."

A sudden rush of fresh tears cloud your vision. He's right, you know he is - you have always been your own worst enemy. Never giving yourself a fighting chance, the help and care you didn't feel you deserve. It felt so tiring, hopeless, in these moments where you fell victim to your weakness and turned it all onto yourself.

"I'm... so weak."

"We all have our battles. And this happens to be one you exhausted yourself to win on your own. However...", he offers you a sweet smile, taking your hand, "...it's a battle you don't have to fight alone anymore."

He takes your face into one of his large hands - the warmth of his palm is soothing against the rawed skin of your cold cheek as you instinctively lean into it, chasing the gentleness of the touch. The smile he gives you is more serious than you've ever seen before, and he lifts his other hand, waving his fingers for a split second in the corner of your eyes - the loose floorboard squeaks as it magically sets itself back into its place and seals itself with the flooring, eliminating the option of taking it off again. Alastor sighs, tilting his head to recapture your gaze.

"Whatever angry words are exchanged and however vexed we might be with each other... please, my love, let me hold you together in my arms when you threaten to fall apart like this."

How long he held you in his arms that night, settled in your bed instead of his as you usually did - you didn't know. How many soothing touches he planted on your body – you didn't count. All that mattered were the soft kisses that he pressed on your cheeks, the way he held your hand, fingers entwined with yours, and the soothing words he repeated to you, over and over like a mantra.

"You are doing well, my love."