#girlies who somehow accepted and love their fat body.. i want what they have

[moodr1ng]

kinda hyper but also physically dont feel good at all which is a weird mix. my thoughts are like "i should clean my whole apartment! i should cook an actual meal! i need to plan how to change my whole appearance! i should plan a trip somewhere!" and my body is like lets lie down and try not to cry

[toongrrl-blog]

Pink Power Rankings (Pt. 1)

Hi I am here to look at famous pink outfits in film and TV history and figure out: is pink a power color for this character? I choose to leave out obvious ones like Pink Power Ranger because, duh it’s in her name and this is gonna be a long list. Also avoiding real-life figures and onscreen depictions of real life figures because keeping it short (and I don’t have the time)

Pictured above are the bridesmaids at First Daughter Luci Baines Johnson’s wedding in the 1960s. 

Mimi Tachikawa

She is the most obvious pick from Digimon and the girl most decked out in pink. To paraphrase this video from The Take: there was once a show about a strange world beyond our own, somehow a group of preteens were pulled into this world not of their accord, including a young 10 year old girl. Along with her friends they were exposed to the elements and fought monsters out to harm them, she was sexually harassed by two clearly adult digimon, uncomfortable with the elements, often had to put up with toxic masculine BS, and was often snarked at by the story and even some of her own friends for being so girly and into pink. Of course some audiences and the story were overcome with sympathy with this girl pulled away from a familiar world...

Just kidding! They weren’t and some audiences even gave her a lot of shit and this has only been recently examined. For a while Mimi Tachikawa had a problem that seemed to be well known by a lot of female characters, like Carmella Soprano, Betty and Megan Draper, Margaret Sterling, and yes Skyler White. Put a flawed, complicated woman character alongside more charismatic (and male) characters and she will be disliked (despite the audience being more likely to be she than the menfolk held up as icons). 

This is sad because looking back, Mimi was truly a badass all along: she sticks up for herself, speaks up for herself, she is unapologetic about her love of pink and girly things, she is quick to tell guys when they are getting in her space, she’s honest, she lets Tanemon go on and fight with only a sincere question if she really is going to while the others hold their Digimon down, she stands up against the Numemon who were harassing her and her friends, and she was funny as hell. Sadly it took a long while for fans to grow up but many of us, especially girls, reclaimed her as our own. It also helped that Mimi came before girly icons like Elle Woods, Leslie Knope, and Joan Holloway and also before the boom in Gen X and Millennial women contributing to comedy and starting their own stand-up specials and movies and TV.

Power Ranking: 10, all because she held her own, no matter the haters and was glad to see us no matter how odd. 

Karen Wheeler

Another complicated lady, this time older and from the 1980s. This is Karen Wheeler of Hawkins, Indiana whose children are off on their own adventure. She is trying to tap into her sexual power here. It’s dicey because the man in question is a young man and she is a unhappily married affluent housewife in the suburbs; she agrees to meet him at the motel for “private swimming lessons” and does herself up in a way inappropriate for swimming lessons (in Scarlet Letter Red to boot!), only to be stopped by the sight of her lazy husband sleeping on the Laz-E-Boy with their youngest child Holly on his chest. This season sees Karen open up to her two older children over the patriarchy and saying goodbye to a best friend and girlfriend after confessing his love for her.

Power Ranking: 6, because her sexual power was on shaky ground and only based on her looks and attention from a man but she shows some character development that season. 

Nancy Wheeler

This look was a game changer, but Nancy is no stranger to pink and preppiness. Here she is wearing an outfit that recalls the postwar “Boyfriend Shirt” from Brooks Brothers for the female collegiate set and it’s updated with long loose but pinned hair and designer (or mock) jeans. In this outfit she goes monster hunting with her younger brother Mike’s best friend’s older brother and Nancy’s classmate, Jonathon Byers and squares off with slut-shaming police officers and a mother who chastises her for lying about her whereabouts and losing her virginity while Nancy’s best friend Barb Holland is missing and she also tells off boyfriend Steve for trying to cover his ass by not participating in the police investigation. This is the look (which can easily double as office wear) when you want to go straight from school where you have an impeccable GPA to monster hunting in your neck of the woods to find the whereabouts of your best friend and for fighting the patriarchy. 

Power Ranking: 8, this is a girl on the move as we can see with her rolled up sleeves. 

Eleven

The Iconic Look, the look where she made a boy wet his pants, found two missing kids, broke a bully’s arm. The Polly Flinders dress would alter the way we see girls in dainty pastel pink dresses. 

Power Ranking: 10, can you do all that without touching someone?

Barb Holland

The most tragic look for this was the sweater that Barbara Holland (1967-1983) wore when she was taken by the Demogorgan and killed. This was the look where she was the recipient of a wet willie from a boy who looked down on her and her best friend who was dating his popular friend, the look where she accompanied her best friend reluctantly to the popular boy’s party, and where her friend turned her back on her concerns. This is the look of a passive and traditional (to her detriment) femininity. She did gain a huge following who cried foul over her fate. 

Power Ranking: 4, points up for the fandom and devotion but she wasn’t empowered. 

Erica Sinclair

That was depressing, let’s go to the girl who embodies America: Hawkins resident wise-ass, the girl who kept her observations and words as tight as her corn rows, and her planning as precise as her perfectly well done baby hairs (Black readers, feel free to correct me as I document her fabulousness), My Little Pony nerd and Economics wonk, and American Heroine. Erica sassed her way into Stranger Things with a raised eyebrow and a lusciously girly girl wardrobe that stands out and fits in with her Midwestern environment. She’s no stranger to pink and she commands attention and the best service at Scoops Ahoy and manages to get several ice cream dishes for free (the most elaborate ones) before getting in on finding the secret Soviet military base. Girlfriend manages to deal with teenage shenanigans, assassins, creatures from another world, near-death experiences, almost being captured by foreign enemies and the most awkward sing-a-long ever. She doesn’t seem to have lost her child-appropriate enthusiasm for games even when telling off old balding men for getting her age right.

Power Ranking: 10, you can’t spell America without Erica

Joan Holloway

Pink is an appropriate color for the resident femme intellectual of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, it shows that Joan is willing to defy “the rules” of fashion for redheads (she also wears red) and it ties into her 1950s persona of the bombshell who is trying to get married to a man who’d move her out to the upper-middle class suburbs and she wouldn’t have to work. That was Joan at the beginning: over time she started to own her natural independent streak and her willingness to buck expectations of her based on her gender and looks but also deals with the same men who ogle her, disrespecting her intellect, her hard work ethic, and even her body (fuck you Greg Harris). In this fuchsia number (still in the pink family), she sets up a luncheon with a colleague (Peggy Olson) where she pitches the idea of them setting up a production company with their names, while Peggy didn’t take, Joan starts her own “Holloway & Harris” with her babysitter and mother. Sealing her end as a strong, productive, independent woman who learned to own herself as she was. 

Power Ranking: 10, men may like scarves but women like not being tethered to men. 

Betty Draper Francis

Meet Elizabeth Hofstadt Francis and her ex-husband Don Draper (actually Dick Whitman), for about 10 years of marriage, they have enjoyed a union where they looked like a couple right out of a magazine, he being a square jawed handsome self-made man with an athletic build who often is compared to old-school movie stars like Tyrone Power or Clark Gable or Cary Grant and she, a beautiful model from a wealthy family in the Main Line area of Philadelphia who studied anthropology at Bryn Mawr and speaks fluent Italian and is often compared to Grace Kelly (and other Hitchcock Blondes). But the interior of their perfect colonial in the suburbs hid an ugly reality where she suffered from ennui and was a brat to her kids while he gaslighted and cheated on her with other women, more modern women, like she wasn’t enough. Eventually she found out his true identity and floored that she had been living a lie and gave up her last name for an imposter, she divorced him and married a man she met at her husband’s work function. 

About three years later, Don is happily married with a younger and much more modern woman (Megan Draper) while Betty is married to a man who loves and accepts her even at her worst but to her chagrin has put on a lot of weight (a blow to a former model who grew up being raised that weight gain or being fat was the worst thing a woman could be) and she hasn’t dealt with her unhappiness in a productive manner. 

For a while well into 1968, she accepted the extra pounds (although looking like she lost some) and coming middle-age and even dyed her hair black, until her new husband tells her he plans to run for office and as he was excitedly recounting what is to be done, says “Everyone will see you” not knowing that his young, vain wife would read this scenario differently and after assessing her new look to an old evening gown of her’s, she sped up her weight loss and returned to her slim and blonde look that turned heads. Soon she takes a drive to her son’s summer camp and runs into her ex-husband and they feel the old spark and sleep together; it is there she tells him that he as a lover is different than him as a husband and admits about the young wife she looked down on, “That Poor Girl, she doesn’t know that loving you is the worst thing to get to you”. Next morning she has breakfast with her new husband, who is none the wiser, while Don heads back to the city. But is Betty really happy?

Power Ranking: 7, not satisfied but has received some closure about her relationship with her ex-husband. 

Sally Draper

This is Sally in her birthday party dress. On that day her father built her a pastel colored playhouse, Mother prepared treats for the adults and kids for her birthday party, she and her friends played out their parents’ (admittedly shitty) marriages at the playhouse, her father goes out to get her birthday cake from the bakery and returns only with a golden retriever named Polly, while her unhappy mother fumes about her husband doing something shitty and humiliating and not being allowed to ream him out because he brought a dog and that makes him the good guy. 

Power Ranking: 5, she gets a dog but is still young and dependent on her messy parents. 

Rachel Menken

Meet Rachel Menken Katz, running into her ex Don Draper while he is out with his latest mistress and she with her husband Tilden Katz. She would end this series as dying from cancer after having two young children and running her father’s department store and instead of flowers, requesting that donations be made for a Jewish hospital in the Jell-O Belt. In 1960 she fell in love with an ad man who proved to have been miserable and having lost his mother during his birth, as she did, she also competed in what was called “a man’s world” at a time when women were relegated to assistant roles at best and she split from him when he wants to run away with her, mostly because he wants to run away from his issues and not because of his feelings for her. As her sister Barbara said, “she had everything”.

Power Ranking: 8, she ends up dying young but she manages to “have it all”. 

Megan Draper

Meet Megan Calvet, later to become Megan Draper. How does she become the next Mrs. Draper? At this timeline, Don Draper is dealing with life after divorcing Betty Draper (now Francis) and is trying (and failing) to quit alcohol and trying to date the intelligent, warm, no-nonsense, and close-to-his-age Dr. Faye Miller. But that night Megan, who noticed she caught her boss’s eye, decides to make the moves and in a uncharacteristically demure (many fans thought she looked frumpy here) but at worst basic outfit, she sleeps with him. This is the outfit for a quickie that later won his heart and has him pop the question and she becomes part of Creative at their work. But is this really for the best?

Power Ranking: 7, she married Don Draper but then again she married Don Draper. 

Peggy Olson

Meet Peggy Olson, who officially walked away from the things holding her back from feeling at ease with herself and her choices. After a whole season where the priest impressed by her skills has learned that Peggy had a child out of wedlock and put him up for adoption and starts pressuring her to admit her “sin” while Peggy would rather move on with her life, she tells him they don’t see eye to eye and walks away from the Catholic Church and while the Cuban Missile Crisis is going on, she lays down in her bed with the pink comforter and pillows with her pink floral nightgown, she lays herself down to sleep and prays with a contented look on her face.

Power Ranking: 9, she’s not fully absolved of the issues plaguing her but refusing to wear a hairshirt and beat herself up? Awesome. 

Dawn Chambers

Meet Dawn Chambers, from 1966-1968, she was the only black person (let alone black secretary) at the uber-white Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce (pun intended for the decor) and like many minorities in positions occupied by less marginalized people, Dawn had to keep her head low and not stand out (despite some co-workers considering her as remarkable as a sore thumb). But then in 1968, she made the mistake of punching in for a co-worker and they get caught by Joan Holloway (and it’s so horrid, thank God Don Draper intervened on Dawn’s behalf and Pete reminds them of how the ad agencies are being looked at for their minority quotas). This was also the season where Dawn took to wearing blazers over her blouses and skirts or dresses and here Dawn is wearing a conservative grey blazer over a pink shirt with ruffles down the front and a red plaid skirt when her work life alters for the...better? It is there that Joan sternly gives her the promotion of keeper of the keys, title not pay, and Dawn tells her that she decided she doesn’t care whether other people in the office hate her but she doesn’t want to disappoint Joan, who withholds any warmth or approval. The next season we see Dawn stand up to a entitled and mediocre white man (Lou Avery) and first she is moved to reception and then she takes over Joan’s post as Office Manager (With her own office! And the salary!) while Joan goes upstairs to her own office in Accounts. 

Power Ranking: 10, this is a big fucking deal for a Black Woman in a mostly-White corporate setting during the 1960s. 

Trudy Campbell

1970, Trudy Vogel Campbell has remarried her estranged husband Pete and they are moving out to Wichita, Kansas with their young daughter Tammy where he will work a plush job for Lear Jet (and they are being flown out by them!). 

For the past ten years, Trudy and Pete have had a difficult marriage where he was dissatisfied with the choices he made and that he really didn’t want to marry her, and Trudy had to deal with being a woman with fertility issues at a time when motherhood was seen as a primary goal for women and women who didn’t have kids or chose not to were seen as weird at best. They had to deal with pressure from her father to adopt, his parents snotty issues, she had to deal with her husband’s attitude, his envy of others, and his cheating. But Trudy laid her boundaries and was able to stand up to her husband, without losing her gracious manner and her zest for society. She tried to be a supportive wife and she found some common ground with him, when it comes to common decency and politics, and they make an amazing pair on the dance floor. 

Then came the end after their divorce: they behave more amicably, he’s more involved with their young daughter, he fights for Trudy, and he gives an amazing pitch for her to come back. She takes him back but lets him know that she isn’t the same girl he married a decade before and she looks at things for how they are. 

Plus she is gonna rule Wichita!

Power Ranking: 8, she accepts there will be compromises but states her boundaries and has them met and will be a society wife. 

Elle Woods

Who shows up in court in LA hot sandals, a pink tote bag for her canine companion Bruiser, long glossy hair, and a curve-hugging but professional power dress in shocking pink? Elle Woods. After trying hard to be taken seriously by her fuckboi ex Warner and her snotty, neutral toned Harvard classmates and learning that her Professor got her in an internship for a important lawcase (where they defend her fellow Sorority Sister) just for her looks, she leans into both her natural intelligence, expertise, and love of pink and all things girly to defend her friend and solve the case. 

Also can we talk about how both Legally Blonde and Bridget Jones’s Diary are both movies where the attractive blonde protagonist is humiliated by showing up for a costume party in a Playboy Bunny costume under false pretenses and she deals with sexual harassment and being underestimated regarding her intellect? But LB ages better because it kinda pokes fun at the beauty myth more and is more inter-sectional and Elle finds supportive women to add to her posse of supportive sisters and she supports other women in turn.

Power Ranking: 10, Sisterhood and owning your personality quirks and interests and boldly defending others is always a win. Case Dismissed. 

Lorelei Lee

The ultimate Pink Power icon and the one who set the path for all femme-y and cute loving blonde protagonists with wit and ambition. This is the song for a woman who sings about how transactional heteronormative relationships in the mid-century were and how the performative actions of men in heterosexual relationships don’t do much to improve women’s lives, like paying the rent and that they would use women for their own uses and could be shallow enough to dump women if they lost their beauty and/or got older, so for insurance make sure you get money or rather things that can be hocked and worn with pride, like diamonds. Tom & Lorenzo covered this in their One Iconic Look series and this sequenced has been spoofed several times in Hey Arnold!, Crazy-Ex Girlfriend, Birds of Prey, and most famously by Madonna, and it is the look for women who not only feel good about their curves but also want to show them off.  As T&Lo said about the ditzy Lorelai and her savvier friend Dorothy Malone (Jane Russell):

These women were all about power, control, and looking out for each other. Men were side stories or play things.

And in the repressive Fifties it was outrageously pink and smelt of female sexual power (pink pussies). 

Power Ranking: 11, hawwwwwwww that’s what you get for having an iconic and referenced look!

Marge Simpson

The most nostalgically remembered outfit in cartoons and the most written about in think pieces and articles by Millennial women who grew up watching The Simpsons and the rest of what the Animation Renaissance had to offer. In “Scenes from the Class Struggle in Springfield”, the family goes out to the outlet mall in Ogdenville where Marge and Lisa happen upon a beautiful pink Chanel suit that even left my cartoon-apathetic mother enthusiastic and Marge is soon seen by a old high school friend who mistakes her for being wealthy and Marge goes along with the ruse and is invited to Country Club activities with the ladies where she shows up in several talented alterations of her suit (until getting destroyed by Santa’s Little Helper, RIP Iconic suit), she also gives her family a hard time about how they don’t fit into that Country Club Scene and then when forced to see how she hurt them (and even Baby Maggie), turns around and tells them she loves Homer’s sense of humor, Lisa’s compassion and outspoken human rights politics, and just loves Bart (even if she can’t figure what she likes about him). 

This also happens to be another instance where Marge sacrifices a social life (she’s not seen with a lot of friends who have her back, aside from a brief time with Ruth Powers), chances for social mobility, and her own self-improvement for her family. While we love a mother who prioritizes her family’s autonomy, we still kind of hope that she didn’t have to sacrifice her own identity for her family. 

Power Ranking: 8, points for the iconic suit and it’s layered meanings. 

Bridget Jones

A rare move of power for a normally powerless and insecure woman and in a shocking pink blouse and black slacks that show off her hourglass curves and go with her coloring. 

Pink is not a color Bridget isn’t familiar with, especially with this deleted scene that shows her in Pink Passivity (and it looks delicate on a blonde with blue eyes and pale skin but could risk her fading but I as a brunette would look popping!). But here after entering a relationship with Daniel Cleaver (who is a walking red flag) and finding out he was keeping her as his side-ho to his skinny, bitchy American girlfriend and colleague and I have my problems with Bridget Jones as a series (which would take several parts) and I can talk about how Peggy Olson and Joan Holloway were a lot better written versions of her (klutziness and awkwardness but succeeding!). But this is a huge power move where Bridget wears a simple outfit that owns her looks (even being affirmed by a older and previously antagonistic co-worker that she’s actually thinner than the average woman and she can’t back down, like ever) and is able to quit her job for a better and more glamorous job and tell off her ex-boyfriend for how poorly he has treated her. And all her co-workers smile off as she walks off in triumph after telling Daniel she’d rather wipe Saddam Hussein’s ass. I kinda wish I could go Joan Rivers on Daniel here. 

Also points on that bolder shade of pink. 

Power Ranking: 10, no one gets to burn a cheating, manipulative bridge like that (and yes she is conventionally prettier than I but that’s not the point). 

Alice Macray

I know, I should shut my mouth and wear beige but my personal color analysis says I’m a winter person.

It’s an interesting power move, albeit within the confines of patriarchal society and even the only defiance that wouldn’t get her tsked at because she is serving the Male Gaze. And yet it’s a natural part of her characterization in this part of the series: the traditional housewife stubbornly keeping her pedestal and fighting to stall progress for other women pursuing other paths (part of wearing beige and shutting up as Mother of the Groom is to allow the Bride to take center stage) but it’s also a path she had to take what with being a dyslexic in a less informed and intolerant era and growing up in a sheltered, conservative Catholic family. This is also the outfit she wears when she spots a younger wife being forcibly yanked by her husband, alluding that the patriarchy isn’t benevolent. 

This isn’t her first time in pink, or even a pink and blue combination: she wears pink when she goes and gives out bread to defeat the feminists at the Illinois Legislature, she wears pink and blue when Bella Abzug calls on her and her peers’ hypocrisy, she drinks a Pink Lady when she is given a “Christian Pill” and it matches her lavender dress. It’s also ironic: pink, white, and blue are the colors of the Transgender pride flag and she is defending White Heternormative Cisnormative Christian Values TM and it’s also a color combo that shows up in the beauty parlor she frequents where she and her friends wring their hands over working women gaining more ground and feeling that their comfortable privilege is being taken away by women who sully their hands working outside the home while they stay home with their children in their coordinated pastels and have maids of color keep their worlds nice and orderly. 

But she is wearing a pink maxi dress with a high neckline and a very prominent hat that provides very ladylike shade for her fair skin, just like our first Pink Power Girl Mimi Tachikawa, and like Mimi, Alice will take a life-altering short trip to Wonderland. And like Pink Power Girl Eleven, she finds her true hidden power and starts wearing more saturated colors as time goes on. 

Power Ranking: 5, she is on her way to breaking out of her little safe world and doing more than subverting a wedding tradition. 

[wdwimagine]

you’re mine?

pairings: daniel x reader

warnings? swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, a lil bit of fighting.

summary: Could you do a soulmate!au with Daniel, the typical ones with the matching tattoos except yours and his ends up being in a spot you can't really see, so they think they're part of the people who won't have soulmates and they just give up on looking. They're best friends who settle for not so great people until one day they accidentally discover they had matching tattoos all along which explains why both of them were secretly in love with each other and hated each others s.o

requested? yes.

notes: sorry this took forever for me to upload to the lovely anon who requested it! also, i sort of made this into a little story and somehow it’s still rubbish oops. sorry!

At eighteen years old, I expected to have found my soulmate - all of my friends had found theirs so why not me? All my friends were over the moon when they discovered they had the same tattoo as someone else, falling instantly in love. But, here I am. Alone. Single. Slightly depressed. Story of my life though, am I right?

“C’mon!” My best friend, Carrie said to me. I was sat on my bed, watching as she tried to persuade me to go to some party. She was failing.

“I don’t want too.” I told her, looking at her as she glared at me, her red hair falling into her face as she slighed angrily. I watched as she carefully placed her hair behind her ear, still glaring at me. If looks could kill, I would be dead for sure.

“And why not, y/n?” She asked. “You like parties. Your best friend, Lisa, is throwing this party. You love her house because of how big it is. You love hanging out with her and me and all our friends. Why could you possibly not want to go?”

I shrugged. “I’m not in the mood to be partying.”

“That’s very unlike you. You better have a valid reason otherwise I’m forcing you to go.”

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe because I’m going to spend all night dancing by myself as you play tonsil hockey with Johnny. There will be boys there who know I’m single and try to talk to me, but I don’t want too.”

“Is this about the soulmate thing?” Carrie scoffed. I rolled my eyes at her, shrugging in response. “You do realise you are not the only eighteen year old who doesn’t know who their soulmate is, right?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“I -“

“You don’t have one.” Carrie said sighing. “Good, so now you don’t have a valid reason to come to this party. Pick an outfit out, get ready and let’s get going.”

I huffed loudly, walking over to my closet. I knew there was going to be no winning this argument with Carrie, she’s the most stubborn person I know. I picked my outfit out deciding on some ripped blue jeans, a black bralet and some tan heels. I didn’t want to be going to this party so I wasn’t necessarily be making an effort with my appearance.

“That’s cute.” Carrie commented as I began curling my hair. I looked at her through my mirror and glared at her. She only smiled at me in response which made me just that slightly bit more angrier. “I don’t know why you’re glaring at me. For all you know, you could meet your soulmate at this party tonight. I’m doing you a favour.”

“I honestly doubt that, but whatever makes you sleep at night.” I replied, beginning to start on my makeup. “Who’s even going tonight that I know?”

“Lisa, obviously because it’s her house. Max, me, Johnny, Cassandra, Lux, Steven, Michael, Mary, Jenny, Jonah, Corbyn, Christina, Jack, Sydnie, Daniel, Anna, Zach, Lewis, Katie... Do I have to continue?”

I nodded my head at her. “And why exactly is Lisa throwing this party?”

“Why not? Her mom and dad are out of town so she’s throwing a party like every cliche teenager in the world.”

“Do I have to go?” I whined, turning around in my chair to face Carrie. “I mean, nobody is exactly going to miss me are they?”

“Oh c’mon.” Carrie groaned. “Stop being so depressed. Enjoy yourself before you find your soulmate. Just think, my mom and dad didn’t find each other until she was twenty-six and he was thirty. Not everything revolves around the one.”

“Well it seems like it with you and Lisa and everyone else finding your soulmates. I don’t want to be third-wheeling all my life.”

“And you won’t be. You’ll find the one soon, I promise.”

I wanted to believe her, I really wanted too but I think I just have to accept the fact that it’s most probably not going to happen. The chances of me finding my soulmate tonight are very slim, so why not flirt with whoever and see where that lands me. I don’t mind being single, but it sucks when majority of people that surround me are all loved up. I just have a huge fear of missing out.

Carrie and I made our way towards Lisa house later that same evening. As we walked up her obnoxiously long driveway, I could see that the party was in full swing. Music loud, peoples chatter and laughter shouting above the music, bright lights that changed colour every few seconds, red solo cups scattering the ground or in people’s hands, the smell of some alcohol which made me gag.

We entered the house and I looked around to see that it was filled with people that I don’t know. How Lisa has this many friends is beyond me. I rolled my eyes as I was shoved slightly by people dancing, sweat almost dripping off every single one of them. I enjoy parties but if someone is too sweaty or too smelly and they come near me? I’m out. I’ll walk my ass home.

“y/n! Carrie!” Lisa yelled over the loud bass music that was thumping. She walked over towards us and I could already tell she was slightly drunk. She pulled Carrie and I into a hug, her soulmate Steven standing behind her. I gave him a small smile which he returned. “You guys look sexy! Drinks are in the kitchen, music is in every room!”

“Thanks, Lisa!” Carrie yelled at her.

I grabbed onto Carrie’s hand as she led us both towards the kitchen. I became a lot less anxious of all the strangers when I saw majority of my friends standing in the kitchen all talking to one another. Immediately Christina spotted me, giving me a small wave. I grabbed a cup of soda, praying that it wasn’t spiked and walked over to her, giving her a small hug.

“You look amazing!” She smiled at me, yelling slightly over the music that was a lot less quieter in this room.

“Me?” I replied. “You look gorgeous as always!” She laughed at my comment and hugged me again. Christina and I had obviously met through the boys, who I met through Anna. The youngest Seavey was one of my bestest friends, we met at a project that was being held in LA and from that moment I’ve made myself an honorary member of the Why Don’t We family.

“y/n!” Anna yelled walking over to me. We both let out a little girly squeal as we hugged, having not seen one another in about a month. She was busy, I was busy and that was that. “I’ve missed you!

“I’ve missed you!” I yelled back. “You look stunning!”

“So do you!” She smiled at me. “Which is good because I’ve heard from a little birdie that Harry Michaels has a fat crush on you!”

“Harry Michaels?” I asked confused. “Isn’t he like two years older than me? How does he even know who I am?”

“Well I heard from Gina that he’s obsessed with your instagram and has being dying to meet you in person. Who knows, he might be the one!”

I snorted. I’ve seen Harry out and about but I’ve never actually met him. He’s hot and way out of my league, there’s no way he’d ever be my soulmate. Anna shrugged her shoulders at me and smiled, I rolled my eyes at her as I went to greet everyone else.

Corbyn welcomed me with a hug as he spoke to Christina, Cassandra and Steven, whom I all gave a hug too. Jonah, Jack, Sydnie and Zach were in the corner of the kitchen talking to one another so I went over to say hi and spoke to them for a little bit, but was interrupted when Max came bursting into the room yelling ‘SHOTS!’.

I rolled my eyes as a few people piled out of the room to watch people taking body shots or something like that, but I stayed in the kitchen now beginning to talk to Lewis and Katie.

“So Harry Michaels, huh?” Katie asked in a suggestive tone. “You two would make the most adorable couple.”

“Would we?” I asked. “I don’t really know much about him.”

“You don’t need too.” Lewis replied. “All you need to know is that when the two of you meet face to face you’ll both have the initials of one another tattooed somewhere on your body.” Once again I snorted, trying hard to believe him but it was just impossible too. Harry was good looking but was he for me?

“Hey.” The one and only Daniel Seavey said walking over to the three of us. My heart skipped a beat but I didn’t think much of it. Sure, I was attracted to him, but we’ve known each other for ages and it’s simply been just friends. No soulmate tattoos, nothing more than two friends joking about, besides I’m best friends with his younger sister.

“Hey.” I smiled at him. We hadn’t seen each other in a while but it doesn’t mean that I don’t stop thinking about him. I sound like I’m in love with him, but I’m not. Just friends.

“How are you?” He asked. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Good, good. Everything’s... good. What about you? How’s the whole band thing going?”

“Good.” He smiled. “We’re flying to Toronto soon to perform at the WeDay movement.”

“Really? That’s incredible.”

“Yeah it is, it’s in a stadium so that’s exciting. Anyway, what were you guys talking about?”

“Harry Michaels.” Katie told him. “And how he’s totally in love with y/n.” 

“Oh really?” Daniel asked with a small smile. “Soulmates?”

“I don’t know.” I replied. “This is all new information to me.”

“Danny!” Someone yelled, walking into the room. We all turned to see a small blonde girl stumbling towards us as if she was tipsy. “Baby.” Baby? I’m so confused.

“Hey.” Daniel said to her, holding her up. “Um, guys this is Cora.”

“Nice to meet you.” She slurred at Katie, Lewis and I. She tried to stick her hand out to shake ours but could barely keep it still as she laughed quietly to herself. I don’t like the look of her and I don’t like the fact that she called Daniel ‘baby’. “So Danny boy, your sister and I were talking about how I should meet your parents soon.”

“Are you two a thing?” Lewis asked bluntly, so the rest of us had answers and weren’t confused.

Daniel opened his mouth to say something but closed it as he tried to hold Cora up. He sighed before looking back over at us. “She’s - shes my girlfriend.” GIRLFRIEND???????

“Oh.” Katie said. “Since when?”

“Um, like a month.”

“Are you - are you soulmates?” I asked pointing between the two of the them. Cora laughed, loudly and annoyingly at my question. 

“Of course we are, silly!”

“Technically, we can’t find the tattoos.” Daniel was quick to defend.

“Tattoos don’t define our love for one another.” Cora replied, placing a sloppy kiss on Daniel’s lips. In that moment I decided I didn’t like her. Her laugh was the most obnoxious thing in the world, she was drunk and I know Daniel isn’t the biggest fan of people who drink and her shorts were so far up her ass I could see everything.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Cora.” I said as politely as I could. “But I need to find Carrie to make sure she isn’t drunk so we can make it home safely tonight.” I smiled goodbye at Lewis, Katie and Daniel before making my out of the kitchen and towards the living room area where the party was most full. I was looking around to see if I could find my red haired friend anywhere but was met with the eyes of the one and only Harry Michaels who was staring at me from across the room.

I instantly became nervous as I watched him make his way towards me. We’d never met face to face, I don’t know anything about him, what will I say? Would he think I’m weird once he sees me up close and personal? What if he is my soulmate? I’d pass out.

“Hey y/n.” He smiled at me. Oh god we’re actually talking right now. If I wake up tomorrow with his initials tattooed on my body I’ll freak out.

“Uh, hi, Harry.” I replied, confused out of my freaking mind. He bit his lip as he stared down at me, I watched him closely as he turned around to his friends and gave them a thumbs up. He’s not that sly. But he is extremely hot when you’re close to him.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up to this party. You look amazing.”

“T-thanks.” I stuttered.

“Am I making you nervous?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

“Just a little.”

“That’s cute. You’re cute.” OK HE’S SO SMOOTH WOW

I coughed slightly to clear my throat before I began talking to him again. “I hear you’ve been looking for me?”

“Wow, word gets around fast.” He laughed, looking down at the ground all shyly and adorably. I don’t even know if they’re words but we’ll do with what we got sis. “How about I grab you a drink of -?”

“Soda.”

“A drink of soda and we can go and have a chat?” He asked. “I really want to get to know you.”

“O-okay.” I replied. I was so nervous that I was for sure sweating buckets by now. It may be because the house is crowded with people and is already sweaty but this is not really helping my heart rate to stay at a regular beat. I almost died when I felt his smooth - definitely mosturised - hand grab onto my own. He pulled me back towards the kitchen to grab us both drinks and I honestly couldn’t believe that this was real life. We entered the room and I looked around. I made eye contact with Anna who was having her ear talked off by Cora. I snorted when Anna mouthed ‘help me’ to me, but she then gave me a thumbs up and a wink when she saw that I was with Harry. I rolled my eyes but turned that into a smile when he handed me a cup of soda.

“Do you want to go to Lisa’s room?” He asked. Which otherwise is known as the room where babies could possibly be made.

“Uh -“

“Or the backyard? Just somewhere where it is quieter and we could chat.” I nodded my head in agreement, allowing him to hold my hand and take us out to the backyard where we sat on two sun beds. I took a sip of my soda and sighed.

Harry and I ended up talking for hours. He was the most loveliest boy I’ve ever spoke to, he was so invested in learning about my life, asking all the right questions, making me laugh but keeping me interested about his life. It was only until Carrie came looking for me at two am that I realised that I had genuinely spoken to Harry for hours.

“There you are.” Carrie said walking over to us. “Oh, there you are.” She said when she saw Harry sitting next to me. 

“Hi, Carrie.” Harry smiled at her. I laughed silently to myself when I saw a small blush form on her cheeks.

“We’re going home, y/n. Sorry to take her away from you, Harry.” Carrie smiled before she grabbed my hand. I stood up and smiled at Harry, having already given him my number.

“Bye, Harry.” I smiled down at him. He stood up and faced me.

“I’ll text you?” He asked as if for confirmation.

I nodded my head. “Yeah. Yeah, that’ll be nice.” Harry smiles brightly and gave me a hug goodbye, and one to Carrie too which made her swoon. The two of us walked away and into the house where everyone else was.

“Where have you been?” Anna asked when she saw me walk into the room. 

“She’s been talking to Harry Michaels all night.” Carrie told her for me.

“No way!” Anna said excitedly.

“Harry Michaels?” Christina said running towards me.

“Harey Mic-“ Lisa slurred being held up by Steven.

I looked at all four girls and boy who were staring at me. “It’s nothing. We’ve just been speaking. He’s actually really nice and not what I was expecting at all.”

“Not a fuckboy?” Christina asked.

“No.” I laughed. “Anyway are we going or what?”

“Yes.” Carrie replied.

“No!” Lisa moaned.

“Go to sleep, babes.” I said kissing her on the cheek. “Love you.” Lisa smiled drunkly at me, saying goodbye to Carrie as I hugged and kissed everyone else.

“You going?” Jack asked walking into the room with Sydnie.

“Yeah.” The two siblings gave me a hug goodbye and I was about to walk out the door when Daniel and Cora walked into the room. My eyes rolled before I could stop them as I saw Cora being almost completely knocked out drunk.

“Cassie!” Cora slurred at Carrie.

“It’s Carrie.” She replied.

“Whatever, Cassie. Byeeeeee.”

“Yeah, bye.” Carrie said before hugging Daniel.

Daniel sighed. “I’m sorry.” I nodded my head at him mouthing bye to him before I left the house behind Carrie.

“Who does she think she is calling me Cassie?” Carrie said angrily. “He name is Cora for crying out loud. Cora the cow. God, I don’t like her.”

“I can tell.” I laughed.

Two weeks later and I was sitting in my backyard with Carrie, Katie, Lisa and Anna.

“So how are things going with Harry?” Katie asked when she saw that I was too busy texting on my phone.

I looked up from my phone to see the other girls staring at me from the pool.

“Um, good. It’s good.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We went on a date a week ago and now we’re going on a second date tomorrow night.”

“Is he your soulmate?” Carrie asked. “Where’s your tattoo?”

I sighed. “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have one?” Anna asked.

“No.”

“Isn’t it kind of strange that you might end up dating this guy but you not gonna fall in love or be soulmates. You’re only going to end up breaking up.” Lisa said to me from the pool.

“Just because you already know your soulmate doesn’t mean I ever will.” I told her. “Let me live, Lisa.”

“Geez, don’t get so butthurt.” She laughed. 

“Look, Harry is a really nice guy and he likes me. I like him. If he asks me to be his girlfriend I’m not going to say no.”

“What about Da-“ Carrie began but I quickly glared at her making her shut up.

“Who?” Katie and Anna asked at the same time. I had no idea what to say considering that Anna was Daniel’s brother, but when Carrie found out I had the smallest crush on him she would never let it go.

“No one!” I said too quickly. I coughed. “No one.”

“So only Harry?” Anna asked. “I mean he’s hot but is he really boyfriend material?”

I looked at her confused. The night of the party she seemed excited when she saw me walking away with Harry but today she wasn’t excited for me.

“He is.” I replied. “He is boyfriend material. I mean he’s not my boyfriend. Yet. But he’s so sweet, I’m already wearing his hoodies, he makes me laugh, he’s respectful, he’s always messaging me asking me how I am. I really like him, girls.”

“That’s cute.” Katie smiled at me. I appreciated it because I was honestly shit scared about what will happen if Harry asked me to be his girlfriend. I still have a crush on Daniel but he’s still dating Cora and he will never see me as anything more than friends. Besides, him and the boys are currently on tour so I’m not going to see him for a while anyways.

“You’ll tell us how it goes, won’t you? Tomorrow on your date?” Carrie asked.

I looked up at her from my daydream. “Yeah. I mean - yeah.”

“You look gorgeous.” Harry said to me as we sat in the diner on our date. I wasn’t dressed up in a fancy dress, just jeans and a tube top and a long cardigan, but I did feel pretty cute.

“Thanks.” I blushed, taking a spoonful of my ice cream. “You’ve said that.”

Harry laughed. “I know. But a girl like you deserves to know that.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.” I replied making him laugh. I’m such a nerd why did I say that?

“So, how did you enjoy this date?” He asked. I looked over at his suggestive look on his face and started to sweat like crazy because I could tell how this conversation was going. Well I hoped it was going the way I was thinking.

“It’s good. I really enjoyed it.”

“Well. I’m glad you enjoyed because I really like you, y/n.”

I nearly choked on my ice cream. “You do?”

“Of course. Do you?”

“I do.” I replied. “Yeah, I do.”

“Well, I’m glad we’ve both established that we like one another. So why don’t we take it further, babe?” OH MY GOD HE CALLED ME BABE.

“Further?”

“Do you want to be my girlfriend, y/n? Because I want to be your boyfriend.” 

“I would like that.” I replied. I would like that. Would I love it? I guess not because I’m not in love with him. But I don’t know what love is like so maybe I’ll just fall hard soon.

“So, we’re official?” Harry smiled at me. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of me, which I was very shy about. He posted it on instagram with the caption of “girlfriend” so of course my phone started to blow up with texts.

Three and a half month laters, Harry and I were happy. Not really happy but happy nonetheless. We were at my house getting ready to go and see the boys before a show in LA. They’d finished their North American tour and even went to Europe but now their back. Carrie, Harry and I are going to the show as well as Jack, Daniel and Zach’s families.

“What time does it start?” Harry asked from my bed.

“Seven thirty.” I replied.

“Then how comes you’re getting ready now? It’s only four.”

“Because we always go early so that we can hang out with the boys in the green room.”

“Why are the boys so important?” He asked. “You hang out with them a lot so why do you need to see them before the show?”

“They’re my friends?” I told him, looking at him through my vanity mirror. I could see him rolling his eyes and I sighed. Recently, he had become a little bit more honest, shall we say? He always had an opinion and it sucked a lot to be honest. But I like him.

“Can’t we go a bit later? Go for dinner? The boys won’t miss us not being there early.”

“I haven’t seen them in months since they’ve been on tour and I miss them. Besides, their families are always coming and they’re my friends too.”

“Fine.” He huffed. “You’re driving us then.”

“Carrie’s driving us.” I replied. “C’mon, lighten up. Tonight’s gonna be fun.”

He simply smiled at me and I knew it was a fake smile. I’m the queen of fake smiles, which I’ve done for years due to being a hormonal teenager.

Carrie eventually picked us up and we arrived at the venue shortly after. Harry immediately grabbed my hand as we walked backstage and towards the green room. We entered the room to see it was packed with the boys and some family members.

“y/n!” Reese, Zach’s younger sister, said running over to me. I let go of Harry’s hand and picked her up, giving her a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you!” I replied. I looked around the room and greeted everyone else. I stopped when I saw Daniel sitting on the couch with Cora in his lap, the two of them with one headphone in each looking at Daniel’s phone.

“y/n!” Daniel said surprised looking up at me.

I gave him a small smile. “Hi.”

“Oh my God! y/n! From the party, right?” Cora said smiling at me. I’m surprised she’s not hammered. She stood up and gave me a hug, taking me by surprise.

“Cora, right?” I asked trying to be polite.

She laughed loudly in my ear. “Yeah! I’m surprised you remember me! Who’s this?”

“Oh.” I said turning my head to see her staring at Harry. Did she just bite her lip suggestively? “This is my boyfriend, Harry.”

“B-boyfriend?” Daniel asked confused.

“Hiya, Dan.” Harry said shaking his hand. “Nice seeing you again.”

“Yeah, you too.” Daniel replied. “Um, this is my girlfriend, Cora.”

“Hi, I’m Harry.” He said shaking her hand.

Once again, her annoying laugh filled my ears. “Nice to meet you.”

“Hey, Daniel, we need to get ready.” Jonah said walking towards us.

“Good luck boys.” I said watching as the two of them walked off. Anna immediately walked over to Cora, Harry and I straight after.

“Ready to go to our seats?” Anna asked.

“Can I sit next to you, Anna?” Cora asked before she turned to Harry and I. “We’ve become really close since Danny and I started dating. We’re practically sisters.”

I looked over to Anna to see her fake a smile, she grinned at me behind Cora’s back before we all began walking towards our seats.

As soon as we made our way out, the crowd began screaming at Anna, waving at her. I was surprised to see some of the crowd even calling Cora. I took my seat next to Anna, Cora on the other side of her and Harry next to me. Reese came over and decided she wanted to sit on my lap.

The boys eventually came on stage and the crowd went wild. Anna, Cora and I were screaming our heads off, putting videos of the boys and ourselves up on our snapchat and instagram stories.

I was singing and dancing like there was no tomorrow, but I felt disappointed when I saw Harry sitting on his phone.

“Get up and dance with me.” I said to him, grabbing his hand.

He sighed, placing his phone in his pocket before standing up with me. I began singing the boys were singing and could see Harry glancing at me.

“How do you know the lyrics?” He asked.

“Um, they’re my friends songs?” I replied. “Of course I’m going to know their lyrics.” He shrugged his shoulders at me and stood up for the whole concert but barely moved or cracked a smile.

The boys eventually finished and we all went backstage to find them already in the room, buzzing from all the adrenaline of performing on stage.

“Enjoy it?” Corbyn asked walking over to me. He was a little bit sweaty but it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle. I gave him a hug and nodded my head.

“Of course.” I replied. “I always have fun.”

“Good. I just saw your stories, you seem to be our biggest fan.”

I laughed. “Of course I am.”

I kept talking to Corbyn when I heard Cora’s laugh. Honestly, it’s like something that pierces my soul. I looked over to see her laughing at something Harry had said. So now he can crack a smile?

“She’s so annoying.” Anna said walking over to me. I laughed as she stared at Cora. “Don’t get me wrong, I love that Daniel is happy... ish. But I don’t see what he sees in her. She’s stunning but annoying.”

“I don’t know what he sees in her either but if he’s happy then we should be happy.” I replied. What I said may have been bullshit, it’s easier said than done.

“Hey!” Jack said opening the door to the Compound a week later from the concert. Harry and I had just arrived to the house for a pool day with the boys and a few other people, the boys had a day off and it’s nice weather in LA so of course we had to have a pool day.

“Already been in the pool?” I asked seeing him already a little bit wet.

“Yeah, everyone’s outside so get into your swim stuff and come join us.” He smiled, letting Harry and I into the house.

“Remember we’re leaving in two hours so we can go over to mine to see my parents.” Harry said as we dropped our stuff off in the living room and began to take off our clothes with our swim stuff underneath.

“Okay, Harry.” I sighed. “You’ve reminded me at least one hundred times today. Let’s just enjoy today, please?”

He sighed. “Fine.” I gave him a small smile before walking outside to greet everyone else. It was Corbyn, Christina, Daniel, Cora, Anna, Jack, Sydnie, Gabbie, Jonah, Tatum, Zach, Harry and I. I greeted everyone with a warm smile, even Cora who seemed sort of happy to see me.

“Come in the pool!” Sydnie and Gabbie yelled at me. I laughed and jumped in, feeling the cold water rush over my body.

“Christ it’s cold!” I yelled when I resurfaced. Everyone laughed at my reaction.

“It’s not that cold!” Zach yelled at me from a sunbed.

“You’re not even in the pool!” I yelled in response. He smiled at me sarcastically, which is that even possible? I looked over to see Jonah running to jump in as well as Tatum. I screamed when they cannon-balled and nearly drowned me. I was having so much fun and I’d barely been here at all.

“I like your bikini.” Cora said coming into the pool. I was shocked by her compliment until she started talking again. “Looks a bit tight though, doesn’t it? What’s the size?”

I was taken a back, did she practically, indirectly call me fat?

“Um, I don’t know.” I replied. “Can’t remember the size.”

She sighed. “Well it still looks good anyway.” I guess she’s lying.

Harry and I had been at the compound for a little over an hour and I had spoken to everyone except Daniel. For some reason, every time we tried to speak to one another Cora was always there and due to her snide comment earlier I decided I didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

Anna and I were having a conversation in the pool minding our own business when Harry decided it would be fun to run and jump into the pool practically landing on me. Correction, completely landing me and forcing me underwater. I hit the bottom of the pool, and felt a pain in my left ear, rising to the surface I coughed and spluttered from all the water in my lungs.

“Are you alright?” Anna asked.

Harry laughed. “Oh babe, I’m so sorry.”

“I’ve got some water in my ear.” I replied to Anna, completely ignoring my idiot of a boyfriend.

“Um have you seen your back?” I heard him say, I turned around to face him confused and heard Anna gasp, making me turn back around.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s a little bit grazed from where you hit the bottom of the pool.” She replied. “Here, let’s clean you up.” We both swam to the shallow end and climbed out of the pool, making our way inside and to the kitchen where Anna could clean up my back.

“God, he’s such an idiot.” I groaned as I grabbed some tissue and handed it to Anna to wet.

“He’s your age, right?”

“Yeah, he’s eighteen. But he acts twelve sometimes, I swear.”

“That sucks - hang on a sec this won’t hurt - he does seem a bit immature?”

“A bit?” I asked before sucking in my teeth from where Anna pressed to hard on my back.

“Here let me look at your ear.” She said, I stood up properly and let her inspect my ear, not knowing why because I doubt she can’t do anything about the water in it. “What’s that?” She asked, rubbing behind me ear. 

“What’s what?” I asked, confused.

She gasped. “Oh my God. Oh my God!”

“What? What’s ‘oh my god’, Anna?”

“You have a tattoo?”

“What? No I don’t.”

“Yes you do! It’s initials! You’ve met your soulmate.” 

“Oh my God!” Zach said from the corner. He walked over and immediately inspected behind my ear. “Oh my God!”

“Can everyone please stop saying Oh my God?” I asked turning around to face Anna and Zach. They both stared at me in shock, then one another. I was even more confused when Zach practically ran out of the room.

“What- what’re you doing?” Daniel said walking into the room being dragged by Zach. They came up behind me and inspected behind my ear again.

I heard someone suck in a breath. “You’re mine?” Daniel asked quietly.

“I’m - what?” I asked turning around to face the three of them. They all looked shocked, Daniel more than the others.

“You’re mine. You’re my soulmate.” He said quietly again. “DJS are my initials. Daniel James Seavey. They’re tattooed behind your ear. I found my tattoo the other day but couldn’t figure it out because I have no idea what your middle name is. But your initials, (insert your initials here), they’re behind my ear.”

“Oh my God.” I said leaning back on the table. This information was hard to take in, I couldn’t breathe. It was like the whole world was caving in on me. My soulmate is Daniel?

“Now look who’s saying it.” Zach mumbled. I would’ve rolled my eyes but I clearly had other priorities.

“You’re my soulmate.” Daniel smiled. 

“What?” Someone practically yelled, making jump from surprise. We all turned around to find Cora staring at us.

“Oh no.” Zach mumbled.

“This won’t end well.” Anna mumbled.

“Cora -“ Daniel began but was interrupted.

“You’re soulmates with her?” She asked, quite angrily.

“I cant breathe.” I mumbled.

Cora continued. “You’re soulmates with her? She’s a skank! I’m so much better than her! What could you love about her that you can’t about me? We’re perfect for each other! She’s-she’s a skank!”

“Cora!” Daniel yelled as I just stood there, a bit numb and unable to move. I heard her scream before she ran back outside. All five of us left in the kitchen followed her.

“They’re soulmates, Harry!” Cora yelled. “You’re pathetic excuse of a girlfriend is my boyfriends soulmate!” 

“What?” Harry asked turning to look at me. By the look on his face I could tell he was angry.

“They’ve been soulmates since the day they met, they’ve been playing us!” Cora continued.

“They only found out today!” Anna argued. Oh my word, I’m soulmates with my best friends brother.

“Are you kidding me?” Harry said walking over to me. “I wasted months of my life on you?”

“Wasted?” I asked quietly. That hurt a little bit and I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel like crying right now.

“Oh please, y/n.” He scoffed. “You really think I wanted to date you? God, my friends and I just wanted to see who could have sex with you first and we had a bet that I would. You really think I like your personality? You’re annoying, all I liked about you was your body and yet you were so much of a prude that you couldn’t even give me that.”

“I was a bet?” I asked, my voice breaking as I tried to compose myself.

“That’s messed up.” Daniel said angrily. “You’re a dick.” I was surprised hearing that sort of language coming from his mouth.

“Oh please.” Harry scoffed again. “Don’t try and be the knight in shiny armour. You’re nothing compared to me all you have now are my sloppy seconds. She’s a prude, bro, she isn’t gonna give you shit.”

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Or what?” Harry asked getting into Daniel’s face. “Yeah that’s right. Nothing.” He said before shoving Daniel. He stumbled backwards but managed to regain his posture. He looked angry and I gasped when I saw him punch Harry in the face, sending him straight to the floor.

“Woah!” Jonah said running over when he saw Harry get up and attempt to swing at Daniel. He had managed to place himself in between the two and was holding Harry back. “I think you should leave.”

“Gladly!” Harry replied. “I never liked any of you lot anyway! Except you!” He pointed to Cora who only smirked like she knew it was coming. He turned around to face me. “We’re over incase you couldn’t tell. I’ll tell my mates how much of a prude you are.” 

“Get out!” Jonah yelled shoving him towards the front door.

“I really liked you.” Cora sighed at Daniel before she ran away.

“Cora, wait!” Daniel yelled before chasing after her. Um, excuse me but why is he chasing her? I should be the only person he cares about. I sound jealous, I should stop.

“I’m so confused.” Christina sighed as everyone stood and stared at me.

I nodded my head at her. “Me too.” 

Later on in that evening, I was sat on my bed still trying to rap my head around everything. I left the compound soon after Daniel and Cora ran out and had been sat at home all day. I had barely eaten and I had barely been on my phone, it’s like I was a walking zombie.

It was now ten thirty in the evening and I decided that I needed to go on a run. I dressed in some sports leggings, a hoodie and my trainers. Pulling my hair up into a ponytail, I grabbed my phone and started listening to my music as I left my house and began my jog/run/clearing of mind.

I had no idea where my feet were taking me, which is why I ended up at the front of the Seavey apartment. All the boys and their families lived in the apartment complex so I was familiar with it. I was questioning myself but for some reason I knocked on the door.

“Crap!” I whispered to myself about to walk away when Anna answered the door.

“y/n? Hey.” She said smiling at me.

“Is Daniel in?” I asked getting to the chase. She nodded her head and called someone over and sure enough Daniel was facing me.

“y/n.” He breathed out.

“I think we need to talk. We should talk. Can we talk?” I said quickly, getting flustered.

“Yeah.” He said, he slipped on his trainers and walked out, closing the door behind him. We both walked in silence towards the communal pool, taking a seat on one of the double sunbeds. “So.”

“So.” I sighed. I realised that I needed to pluck up the courage and talk to him.

“Okay, I’m going to come out and say it. I’ve liked you since I’ve met you, Daniel. I’ve really liked you but I’ve always pushed the feeling aside because you always acted like we were just friends - which we were... are? I’m best friends with your sister, I’m best friends with the boys. I thought we were just friends and I never wanted to admit that I liked you because I never found a tattoo and I don’t know, okay? I’m rambling. But all I’m saying is I really like you, and I hate myself for dating Harry when I knew that I had feeling for you but I tried pushing them away, I really did.”

“I’ve always liked you too.” Daniel smiled at me. “God, y/n, I’ve always liked you. But I was nervous because I never found the tattoo because for some reason they’re in a stupid place and are ridiculously tiny. But I’ve always liked you. I didn’t want to say anything because you’re best friends with Anna and I thought if I admitted it you’d think I’d be weird and Anna would hate me. I only dated Cora for selfish reasons, to try and get over you. I regret that. I really hurt her and I didn’t mean too, but seeing you with Harry hurt me even more. I always thought it should’ve been me by your side. Not him. I never liked him. He was just a huge dick and I always knew something was wrong about him. I wished I would’ve punched him sooner.”

I snorted, overwhelmed with emotions. “I hated Cora. I thought she was snuck up, annoying, had the worlds most obnoxious laugh, she always looked at me like I was shit and she practically called me fat today. If I could’ve punched her, I would’ve.”

“Do you think the reason why we hated each other’s partners is because we were jealous?” Daniel asked, showing off his beautiful smile. His eyes were glittering and I just couldn’t believe that he was mine.

“Of course.” I smiled back at him.

“Come here.” He said and in one swift move he had grabbed my left leg and lifted me onto his lap, making me straddle him. I blushed, placing my hand on his shoulders as we both grinned at one another like creeps.

He placed a hand on my cheek, taking in every inch of my face. “You’re so gorgeous.” He mumbled.

“Thanks.” I blushed. We both stared at one another before our gaze moved to each other’s lips. Soon enough we were leaning into one another and our lips met. It was everything I was waiting for, the two of us kissing. It sounds so cliché but I truly felt sparks when we kissed.

We both pulled away, a bit out of breath and resting our foreheads on one another. “I love you.” Daniel said, making me pull away in surprise. I stared at him confused. “What?” I asked, kind of giddy.

“y/n, I don’t need a tattoo - I’ve never needed a tattoo to know that I’m in love with you.”

I blushed. “You’re insane, Daniel James Seavey. But so am I, because I love you.”

“Wait until I tell my mom.”

“Why?” I asked.

“From the moment we met, she had mothers intuition and thought we would be each other’s soulmates. She never liked Cora so when she finds out we are soulmates, she’ll be over the moon to have you as a daughter in law.”

“Daughter in law?” I asked. “We’re not getting married. Not yet, anyway.” 

“You know what I mean.” He laughed. We both smiled at one another and I honestly had never felt this way about someone before, I’ve just always been in denial.

We kissed again and I melted. I’m so in love.

pls ignore any spelling mistakes or grammer!!!

[lifeofbouyd]

12 Years Anniversary

Fred: Yow, da gyal deh nice eno bwoy. Mi ago circle har enz an try get di digits.

He walked away, heading straight towards her. Walking as if he was going to collect a trophy. She was nice, really nice, that I must admit. She’s one of the nicest girls I had seen in a long time. Her hair was well done, her nails freshly painted or at least so they seemed. Her face, done to perfection and her dress, looked expensive. It swung a little above her ankles and rested perfectly on her body. Outlining her killer shape. She had a gold ring on her “wedding” finger and stainless steel on her pinky. I watched them greet each other and what actually caught my eyes was, how much of a lady she was. She seemed well groomed and too good for my liking. A “goody two shoes” was my first thought. Girls like these are normally either married, rich, or have a rich man taking care of them. I smelled trouble, yet there was so much desire. I felt like she was worth having. Not just for a night, but someone I’d be with for a while. They exchanged numbers as I pulled that fairytale thought from my mind. I hexed that shit. I was already in a sinking ship, no land in sight. I’d rather drown on my sinking ship that jumps across on her boat.

Fred: Yuh see how di genna work youth. Ago fuck that quick eno. Yuh zimi.

I humored him, knowing he normally never pulls through with these kinds of chicks. I’ve seen it one too many times to think differently. Fred was good when it comes to picking up girls, but he’s always had me as his role model. I was lucky when it came to women. Always getting the “better-looking ones”. Most of which turned out to be faces without priorities. I’ve had to learn the hard way that not all glitters is gold. Sometimes they’re not even gold filled. Days passed and I had forgotten about her. He didn’t mention her and I never remember to ask. I guess when you have your hands full it’s hard to keep up with likes. I spotted her one day staring at, and from the looks of it, she had been staring for a while. Taking in my presence as if she wanted me to say hi. I hadn’t heard him mention her I a while but I still didn’t want to take his link like that. I learned later that day that she had no interest in men. She considered them a total waste of her time and feels she’s better off with girls. Now I shared her view. I love girls just as much as she does. I’ve always had a Fetish for lesbian. Clean girly lesbians that is. I’d never fuck a butch even if she paid me to. I imagined all the things she’d do to me, and all the things I’d do to them. Mostly what I’d do to her. I still didn’t say hi for a while. I wanted to build the suspense between us and make the first conversation memorable. I planned it down to the very last second, every possible outcome, and I always walked away with her number. Again, I caught her watching me. Paying keen attention to me from head to toe. I got my convo together, but by the time I turned around again, she was gone. I argued with myself for a while until I accepted the fact that I was moving too slow. Again I forgot about her. Living my best life. Caught up chasing other chicks I was brave enough to start a conversation with.

Someone pats me in the shoulder.

Her: Hi, I’m Rachel. Wasn’t sure when you were gonna say hi, or if you ever would so I decided to be the first to say hi.

I took a few seconds to inhale her cologne and pay keen attention to her Weldon’s face, her pussy cheeks spreading over her pants crotch crease. Her breast sticking me in the face, her slippers which seemed she got it from House of Style or some other expensive women clothing outlet.

Her: 🙃 You can say hi you know. I won’t bite, at least not yet. I wanna get to know you first.

I froze. My palms got sweaty and heart heated like a fifty caliber gun. Well, she did say she wouldn’t bite me. At least not yet. Obviously, she was interested in getting to know me. But why me though? Of all the guys she could have, if all the guys that had been chasing her, why get to know me? I entertained her conversation and played it cool. Acting like I didn’t want her. Our conversations started off slow with basic texts and friendly flirting. Somehow she killed my urge by saying she Christian. I don’t mind dating Christians, but what I don’t like is someone consistently reminding me. She tried to get me to see eye to eye with her beliefs, but I just wasn’t ready to take that journey. I only plan on getting married and baptized once and I don’t intend to do it for the wrong reasons. We stopped talking for a while because I had decided not to chase her. It was more like respecting her religion and not trying to get between her legs. We went from 2:00 am calls to every other day texting. It became somewhat of a long distance relationship or friendship or whatever it was. I had accepted the fact that I wasn’t gonna have her, at least not as easy as I thought. In my mind, she would give me her number and I’d take her home and make her scream my name. But reality..... mmm. Reality is a bitch.

Lucky for me, I saw her one evening when I was buying dinner at a famous Chinese food place. I offered to pay for her food however, she ended up paying for mine. Trying to show she’s independent I guess. We sat and chat for a while which made me realize we had a lot in common. She braced her body against mine for the first time when she was leaving. She whispered in my ear, “This could be all yours if you’re a good boy.” She sent chills down my spine and made my dick rock hard. She ran her hand across the front of my pants and smiled. I didn’t know if it was a good or a bad smile but I’m sure I could drill a wall with my shaft. I walked her to her stand where she laid a wet “chups” on my forehead. You know that trickling feeling you get when electricity runs through your body? That’s the effect she had on me. We sext all night, building curiosity between us two. She told me how she wanted to make me cum all over her and sanctify her with my rod. Now, I don’t like to count my eggs before they hatch, but I considered it a done deal. A few days passed and the fetish became a relationship. One I’ll always remember. The funny thing about it is, I had no plans whatsoever to be in any form of ships. But I was too far out in the sea by the time I realized what I had gotten into. To be honest, I really didn’t mind. Everything seemed ok. She said there was no husband, no boyfriend, no girlfriend or anyone of that nature, and she never gave me a reason to doubt her. Before I knew it I was in love. Head over heels kind of love. Shit. I wanted to run but I couldn’t. She had me hooked on her like a coke headed drunky. We moved from occasional hugging and texting to kissing and phone sex. I knew girls were horny but damn, she had no stop in her. It would seem she hadn’t been eating for a while and was just trying to take all she could get. I was down for that.

I invited her over one weekend with intentions of fixing her business. I cleaned the place from floor to ceiling and made it smell like a five-star resort. I even did a fancy spread on the bed to sell the look. White fluffy carpet on the floor and breathtaking scented candles lit on the wall. I loaded an Amazon video for her to watch while I took a shower. I came out in nothing but my towel on, trying to look super sexy for her. I popped us a bottle of Grey Goose and made my deluxe mix with a bottle of Rosè. A sweet, lingering, sparkling mix. Halfway between the first glass, she was already half naked, making herself at home. She turned the movie off and started playing sex songs. I watched her stretch and touched her toes before whining out her bra and underwear. Squeezing her nipples and biting her lips. Now I’ve seen a lot of fat pussy in my life, but she had something different. “Too bad you don’t eat”, she said with a smirk on her face. But even I did, I’m sure I’d suffocate somewhere there 😂. She pulled the towel off and reached for my dick. She gently stroked it as she ran her tongue up and down my leg. I couldn’t help but hold her head each time she moved. The sensation was unbearable. She then sat on top and slid her pussy back and forth the length of my cock, causing her to get super wet. Less than a minute or two she had already cum. “No condom, no love”, she said. Sliding her self back and forth on my dick. I slid my hand in the pillowcase and pulled out three packs of condoms. Scented, glow in the dark and ribbed. I slipped a ribbed on and made her ride herself to another orgasm before flipping her over on her back. I pulled her to the edge of the bed and beat her clit with my shaft. That shit made her squirt. Her pussy was gushing cum and I hadn’t even started beating it up yet. I slid my way inside her and stroked her slow and deep. Holding her neck with one hand while I held her leg with the other. Her eyes rolled back, she screamed my name, she vibrated, and vibrated, and vibrated again. All this cumin made her weak. I had her lap her legs around my waist and her hands around my neck. Standing upright, I held her waist and pulled her back and forth the length of my shaft, causing her to squirt like a broken wipe. She released her hand from around my neck and almost hit the floor. All that fun had made her weak. I braced her against the wall, high enough to give her the full length of my dick. I kissed and fucked and sucked her nipples until she begged me to cum. I spread her legs wide and struck her like lightning until I exploded. Again, she flooded me. Squirting so much the floor was soaked. She was so tired she fell asleep the moment I put her back on the bed. She was knocked the fuck out.

I had to drive her home that night. She was too tired to even bathe herself. We fucked several times after that and had many picnic dates which made me want her even more. Who does a picnic and have sex in the bushes? Before I knew what hit me we were inseparable. Living the life. #Relationshipgoals #Happylife #Bae. I had given in, putting my heart on the line. Expecting hers in return. I had it, I’m sure I did. God knows I had it. But like everything else in my life, that got fucked too. I remember being home one weekend, watching a movie and texting some chicks when my phone rang. A random 876 number. I don’t normally answer numbers I don’t know, but this person was calling a number very few people have. It must be pretty important. What if it’s work? What if it’s an x I haven’t seen in a while and would love to bang again. I missed the first call. I figured if it was important they’d call again. My other Jamaican number started ringing. To my surprise, it was the same number. Obviously, this person wanted something so I answered. I stayed mute and so did the caller. The call ran for like two minutes before the caller said hello.

Caller: Bouyd.... Hello, is this Bouyd?

Me: Who dis?

Caller: You don’t know me but I know you. I’m calling to warn you before you get too deep and something happens to you.

Me: What? Warn me? From who? Who’s this?

Caller: I’m Craig, Rachel’s man.

Me: Which Rachel?

Caller: The someone you tucked last week and dropped off after eleven.

Me: 😳🙄🤭😏🤤. I chuckled to myself for a few before responding. Oh, that Rachel, I know her pretty well. I see you know a lot.

Caller: Yes. I watched you follow her in and squeezed her ass at the door before leaving. I could have knocked you out but I chose not to.

Me: 😂🤣😳🤔 now this is serious. How could he possibly know this? Was he actually there? I bet this is a prank call. Breda, wa yuh want? Mi nuh run certain joke eno bad man. Talk fast or walk fast eno.

Caller: A loud mouth won’t help you son.

I hissed my teeth and ended the call. Who does he think he is? Calling me so late at night to talk about rubbish. At the same time, I was worried. He spoke facts. He knew exactly what I did. I did see a white car parked across the street that night that wasn’t normally there. He messaged me on WhatsApp to answer my phone. Like wtf? How did he even get my WhatsApp number? He called again and I answered. He explained who he was and how he fits in the big picture. He made me tea how long he’s been paying attention to my movements. He knew when we fucked, where we fucked, where we went on dates and even some stuff I’ve only told her. What stood out to me most was when he said, “I could have hurt you so many times but I chose not to because I figured she played you well. He sent me pictures to prove his speech and gave me very detailed information that he had acquired about over a few weeks. I didn’t know what to do. “Now that you know, it’s up to you to decide what you do from here.” He said good night and hung up.

Leaving me in suspense. A million questions ran through my messages be. How could she do this to me? How did a twelve years relationship fit in our four months of dating? Is that even possible? She never slipped up, she never gave me a reason to doubt her. She made me believe that I could have someone for me, myself and I. She made me open up and let her in. Shit 😔. Did I shit in a fucking church or something? Don’t I deserve to be happy without hiccups too. Sigh 😔. Where did I go wrong? Did I fall for her too quickly, did I put my basket where I can’t reach it, is this karma, did I hurt someone who God wants me to repent for? What do I say to her? Should I stay with her, is it safe. I thought with both my heads as I wanted to ensure I made the right decision. I loved her and I love fucking her, but is it worth my life? Would she die for me? What would she do if she was in my shoes? Do I even mention this to her? Sigh 😔. I stayed all night wondering if he had followed me home and was outside waiting for me to act us to ambush me 🤔. She called me several times but I didn’t answer. Could it be a test? What if he was using her phone to call me to see if I would answer? What if she was calling me to say it was a prank? I grew paranoid. He told me to be patient until I see her and I will see that everything he told me was true. So said so done. The new hair do courtesy of, the brand new phone and the marks on her neck. I wanted it to be a joke, I wanted her not to show up the way he said she would. I swallowed my heart that day. Tears ran down my cheeks and I couldn’t stop crying. Why was I crying though? It’s not like it’s first I’ve fucked a nigga’s chick. What was so special about her that I didn’t want to share? Then it hit me, it’s simply because I had fallen in love with an illusion she created. She had created me a photoshop life in 3D. I told her what happened and I told her how I felt. Shit, I even had the guts to say it was over.

She tried for weeks to explain that they were no longer together but I was beyond her white lies. She sent sexy pictures to make me miss fucking her, which I actually did. But I just couldn’t see past what happened. I guess I felt like I was cheated out the chance to choose to date her while she had someone. I would have felt a lot better if she had told me this from the start. I wouldn’t have had my expectations so high. She taught me a lesson that will part me through life. A woman knows what she wants and she knows just how to get it. Women don’t get caught cheating unless they want to get caught, and a woman will create the life she thinks you want to live.i could have lost my life, #Dead. To top it off she said I was ungrateful. She had put her life in jeopardy to be with me and I repaid her by breaking up with her and taking his side. But if she did that to him, what would she do to me? He had the house, the money, the car and I had nothing but a good old dick. I guess that’s what she wasn’t at home.

Life isn’t always about what you can offer. Everybody want vanity, but if they ain’t getting the amount of attention, sex or fun that they’re looking for; “bun” will be your best friend.

[ghostlyfacedream]

um, good morning. or afternoon here, i guess. it's 1:25 pm. i'm going to start a diary. even if it's not official or fancy or well thought out. even if it's short blips here and there when i have a thought to share. i need somewhere to share, and my hands are too fucked up to write physically in a book, and that would just make it worse. i also know that i need to :post: or :upload: whatever i type because i feel the need to have an audience, to be seen and acknowledged. i know that there isn't anyone out there reading this, but typing it into a post that CAN be seen is different from typing into a doc where i am alone in a empty chamber.

ok, so... i'm hungry. i've been hungry since last night. i didn't eat though. tomorrow we are having pizza. i want to save up for that. maybe just two pieces with garlic dip. mm.

my tattoo is healing nicely. i'm 18. i walked into the shop off the street and asked for one a while back. it's still cloudy but it's been gradually clearing up. most people need 30 days to fully heal their tattoos; given my genetic disorders i wouldn't be suprised if it took double that time, or even triple. i like it, even though i keep getting caught off guard and thinking it's a bug on my arm. i guess that happens when you're so disconnected from your own body all of the time. i forget what i look like, i forget i have a tattoo now, etc etc.

i'm making a new friend at work, i think. their name is cecelia. they're very pretty, like their name - they remind me of a deer with their big brown eyes and gentle demure nature. i like joking around with them. i intrusively feel the need to let them know that i am not hitting on them - i'm incredibly aromantic. i'm socially inept though, and i'd like to have friends, but i don't know how to behave, so i sort of fumble over my lines and shuffle around in a costume that's three sizes too big for me. it's like i missed all of the dress rehersals and then boom, suddenly i'm in a play and everyone knows how to act but i'm flying in with my head in my back pocket.

anyways, cecelia invited me to hang out. and they talk to me about all kinds of personal stuff, like mental health issues. and like i said, we joke around. so i feel like we could be really close, if i don't make this weird somehow. i made them a pair of earrings - during our first week (we got hired on the same day) they complimented my green earrings. i make my own earrings out of little trinkets i find and collect, and one of the kitchsy little things i made was a pair of green clothespin earrings. they said they really liked them, asked me where i got them. so i made them a pair. yellow, which is their favourite color. i'll give it to them next time i see them. i plan on putting a little disinfectant wipe - the ones i use for my shots- in there for them to clean the earrings. covid times, and all that. i hope they like them. i hope it's not weird.

um, i tried to make this blog as ... bland as i could. i don't want to project an identity here. i was diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder in 2016 and it makes life really hard. when i made this blog, it had yuri's art as the profile picture, and then that made it feel like HER blog instead of the collective MY blog. we are me. anyways. it's really hard. my identity is never the same. i mean, to some extent, it is; i have distingushed parts... but there's no solid me. i have many interests. i seem like someone who can't make up their mind on who they are. but the truth is, i just am... i'm just many people, and they all have their own interests and qualities and ways of thinking, and it makes interacting with me really really hard. it makes living as me really really hard.

i wish i was normal. i think about that a lot actually. maybe too much, lately. i promised when i started this blog that i wouldn't censor myself. my therapist - ex therapist, rather - said i spend too much time choosing what to omit when i speak to people. she used to say that she could see me picking through my thoughts, choosing which ones to share and how best to word them. i focus more on being presentable than what i have to present. so i needed a place to just spit out everything, uncensored, undevoured. the roast chicken, meat stripped off of it's bones and laid out for the guests - they are starving, there is nothing there.

so here's the first uncensored thought: i wish i was a woman. specifically, i wish i was an endosex cisgender woman. it's distasteful, but i find myself watching pornography and wishing for their soft and supple forms - silky skin, round, curvy bodies. beautiful lips, long hair, delicate hands. i've always been fascinated by drawing the naked form - i suppose there's just an alluring siren's call that i feel in my bones when i see the warmth of a lovely lady radiate from her very being. you see, i was born outside of the boxes. a messy smear. they made a choice when i popped out, raised me girl, gave me estrogen when my body wasn't doing what it was being asked to do. i grew girl, lived girl, tried girl. i tried so hard. you have no idea. i wanted it so badly. swirly skirts and long golden hair and painted lips. - now, i don't believe that these things are gendered. i believe that humans of any shape, size, form or spirit can do whatever they please in the means of self expression. but for me, there was always some underlying PRESSURE of NOT BEING GIRL ENOUGH. i was wanted girl. i had a broad chest, and large hands. i was hairy. i had a deep voice. my feet did not fit into girl's shoes. bits of me stuck out in women's clothing where women have no bits TO stick out. it hurt. it still does. i understand that i have some deeply rooted intersexism that leads me to apply the gender norms to myself, but i promise i don't think that way of other people. which leads me to... why them, but not me? why can other people be fat, hairy, wear makeup or no makeup, wear short skirts or cover every inch of their body - why do i praise and support gender nonconformity, women with beards and facial hair, men with long hair and makeup, shaving or no shaving, dyed pubic hair and jewelry - but when it comes to me, it's not okay? i rejoice in the trans community, femmes with voices as dark as tinted glass, or midnight, or the cat's rumbling purr. masculine entities with curves, and high voices, and typically "feminine" traits, because fuck that, traits are traits, and we can mix and match, and there is no restraint here because we are all living, breathing animals with vibrant souls and a taste for love and laughter. i accept everything. but i'm a hypocrite. my shoulders are too big for dresses. my skin is too hairy. my voice is too low for a woman, too high for a man. clothes do not fit me - men's pants cannot cling to my hips, women's tops cannot fit over my shoulders. i wear bags, or blankets, or nothing at all, hiding away in my room. i don't want to be seen. i don't want to know of the world and it's specifics around what shape my body isn't. my hands are big and clumsy. my chest didn't grow, and then when it did, it was incredibly lopsided. my bones don't even fit me, not sure what sex they belong to, pressing at the seams or curling grotesquely to fit inside my body. the only time i see others like me on tv... we are freaks. we are shemales, or wonders of nature, or abominations. we are hermaphodites, fucked up humans who grew the wrong parts or not enough of the right ones. we are misgendered, or prodded at on fictional doctor dramas and made spectacles, fucked up malformities to be gawked at. they want to guess what is in your pants, how you were raised - did they choose to mulitate you to make you more one way or the other? they want to know what's inside you, what is inside you, what's inside you? testes? ovaries? both? nothing? take it out, or put it in, fill you with hormones to make you normal, we joke about celebrities on the news - are they a hermaphodite? you have a girly face mr bieber, are you a hermaphodite? were you born with a penis, lady gaga? we are fetishized, but disgusting. horrific, and captivating, because people love the boygirl with their androgyny. i hate it. i want to rip my body to pieces. i want to sink my nails into flesh and bone and tear away. i want to throw my organs as far as i can, you failed me, you failed me, you failed me. i want to rip away until i am nothing but a floating concience. i hate it here. i always have.

[ashestoarts-blog]

Art by me.

This drawing to me represents peace. Euphoria. Tranquility. I've suffered a lot. I've gone down a lot of wrong paths. I've been swallowed by anger and suffocated by depression. I've been chained by anxiety. I've been lashed by ptsd and starved by dysphoria.

A lot of me hates myself, conditioned by the very people in my life who were supposed to love me. I grew up believing I was never meant to be here, being born below the margin of impossible expectations because I could not be what everyone wanted. In a way, my birth to everyone was, “Well, this is it; this is what we ended up with.” It was as if I was some compromise, meant to make up for the loss of my siblings. Although they they and I never met, I was constantly in their shadow. It was as if I had poisoned the womb, begging god to kill them so that I could exist. My mother, obsessed with her loss, birthed a compromise and a replacement, naming me after my siblings in an attempt to reanimate what was lost.

A lot of my life has been misery. I was sexually abused from a very young age, by family members on both sides. I was home schooled until halfway through second grade, and I didn’t even know what music was. My family never spoke to me, and I was raised to never speak unless spoken to because I was insignificant compared to the three. Nobody wanted to get to know me because that was already predetermined.

Every holiday was a nightmare, filled with expectations to radiate perfection. As a child, all I wanted was to be loved. But everyone told me I was a demon child, and a dark child. I rarely smiled, and if I did, I covered my mouth. Everyone told me I was broken. That I was selfish for wanting attention or love. My entire life, nobody took the time to know me.

My household was chaotic; my parents hated each other. When my mother wasn’t screaming at me over my physical flaws, I was mocked for my shy nature. My youngest memory of my mother is her barging into my room to say, “You’re such a piece of shit,” as she obsessively cleaned the house. If I tried to spend time with her, she would tell me to go away as she hid behind reading books. In reality, she didn’t want me. Every day, she’d make phone calls to her mother and sister, complaining for hours about how I was a nuisance. Every single birthday, I asked for her to spend time with me.

My own body was a warzone. My father was accepting of me, and let me be a boy. I liked sports, my hero was Han Solo, and I wanted to be Steven Speilburg when I grew up. I liked the boy clothes and the boy toys. My mother hated us for it. My only memories of her before the divorce was a battleground-- fighting. My hair wasn’t girly. I was growing facial hair and was happy about it. I didn’t want to wear makeup. She called me ugly, and fat. She’d tell me I didn’t have any friends because everyone saw how worthless and lazy I was. 

I became withdrawn, as every day when she came home, she sat down in front of my father and screamed for hours-- sometimes 4 hours at a time-- complaining about her day before locking herself away in her room. Once we had to delay a day trip to the renaissance festival, and mom blew a casket. I hid in my room, my dad holding her back as she pointed up at me screaming, “FUCK YOU.”

School was no sanctuary except for within my teachers and my studies. School was a warzone as I was the gay trans boy. I got beaten senselessly. I got sick from stress and no matter how often I transferred schools, the cruelty never ended. Summer camps were no different. Once was so bad, I began to cry, going mute for a while after the incident. I was beaten very badly, and left for dead in a ditch filled with briars and rocks. I was bleeding everywhere.

I began wondering if this was what I deserved-- after all, I was the replacement child. I was only here because 3 people died. That made me selfish. That made me a monster.

I began having belligerent black outs. I would write in journals as if someone else had taken over me, and the writing was barely legible. If I was speaking to someone at the time, and they called me by “Sienna” I would get very very aggressive. I would scream that that wasn’t my name. I had begun rejecting myself, so afraid of other people that my own thought process was an insult to myself. I began disassociating. I stopped recognizing my face and eventually fell into bad habits such as self harm and abusing drugs. 

Once I OD’d back in freshman year, unable to walk after taking a lot of anti-depressants. I laid on the floor for hours. I don’t remember what happened. I began keeping myself as drugged as possible, and have almost no recollection of my freshman year. Not many know this about me; not even my parents know.  I wanted to vanish, someway, somehow. 

In sophomore year, I stopped abusing drugs and became clean. I had met some friends who were kind to me. They didn’t beat me, or belittle me. We just... played, making films and enjoying life. They were my first real taste of youth and friendship.

But then my parents divorced. And it was messy. Both of my parents tried to kill themselves, their mental instability causing the world to end. Each pit me against the other, using me as a sword for their own gain. The family on both sides grew to hate me for not protecting my parents. For not saving their relationship. For trying to protect both.

One day, my dad got a shotgun, and went out to the backyard, placing it to his head. He texted my mom that he was going to kill himself. She came in my room, and apathetically told me it was up to me if we called the police or not. She told me it would make her life easier if he died. With his life in my 14 year old hands, I begged her call 911. A lovely officer saved his life. Afterwards, my mother ransacked his place, stealing everything she could.

Eventually, she went to court, claiming lies to make my dad unable to keep me overnight. Then, she dropped custody of me due to not wanting the responsibility of a child, making me emancipated. My family called me selfish and a brat for being upset. They told me they hated me, and wished I had been “thrown away to the foster care system” so my mother could try again for a child worthy of love.

As this went on, I was being sexually abused by 3 of my friends, one of which was my abusive boyfriend (who forced me into a relationship for 3 long...long years). I was touched against my will, and pressured constantly for sex until I gave up, and lost my virginity. Being pinned against a wall and touched became normal for me, and I stopped fighting. I assumed no one wanted me unless it was for sex, even in the anime club. As I was below 16 at the time, losing my virginity wasn’t even consensual because I didn’t have the capacity. But I didn’t value myself enough to care. I was conditioned to obey because I had no worth.

In junior year, I realized I was trans. It had been there all along-- the one part of me that was my own volition and wasn’t cast upon me. It was the one thing that I knew was my own, and genuine, free will. I was a boy, and wanted to transition. 

I didn’t come out to my parents until the end of the year, though. Dad was not accepting, but didn’t reject me. Mom accepted me, for reasons nobody really knows. At least, at the time nobody knew. She took me to transgender meetings, and support groups. She began to beg for affirmation to my counselors that she was “a good mother.” She began bragging to everyone she could that she was a great mother. It almost felt....like I was being used to boost her own ego. The maternal side of the family stopped supporting the lgbt community when I came out. Utmost rejection.

People started having expectations of me, such as not feeling as much. Dressing a certain way. Transitioning a certain way. I became depressed, and de-transitioned. I got scared because I was being what EVERYONE ELSE wanted me to be. I tried becoming female again, hoping to rekindle my friendships that I had lost, and gain love again. But no one wanted me. I became lonely. I played the best act I could-- wearing makeup, wearing dresses, growing my hair out. I became what everyone else wanted me to be.

I still wasn’t happy. I had no identity, and I couldn’t even remember if I ever had one. I wanted to be loved, but didn’t want to be a girl when I wasn’t. I wanted to be a boy, but didn’t want to be alone.

I OD’d again in my dorm, flunking out of college. I had been in an abusive relationship, being used entirely for my body. 

Mom, not wanting me back home after flunking out, put me up in an apartment since I was not able to get an apartment on my own. After a year, my lease was up, and mom didn’t want to cosign anymore. I became homeless. That was a year ago.

I began couch hopping, trading sexual favors and whatever I could to have a roof over my head. In January of this year, I was raped while unconscious. The sexual harassment only worsened by my friends. My mom stopped allowing me to come back, and my grandparents made it clear I wasn’t wanted there (in sophomore year, we lost the house and dad moved in with my grandparents). I became desperate. At one point, I even got physically assaulted, thrown across the room so hard that the bed slid across the floor. I put up a good fight. I started staying with my ex from highschool-- the abusive one-- and slept on a dirty blanket in the floor as cockroaches crawled around me. The ex would grab my face with both of his hands, and sexually harass me until I would submit. 

I feel unwanted by this world. I don’t even feel human-- like I’m just some monster who was accidentally forced into this world, spreading darkness wherever I go. I was born a mistake, a disappointment, and evil. My family to this day still refers to me as “The demon child.” 

I started struggling with alcohol and drug abuse, breaking into my mom’s house and trying to make her mad so that she would give me the time of day, even if it was bad attention. I started shoplifting in hopes that someone would stop me, because it was the only way I could bring myself to spread my wrath to other people. “I’m starving because the world hates me, so I’m going to take your bread.”

But I have to ask, what did I ever do? 

Did I kill the triplets? No, I never even met them.

Did I cause my parents’ divorce? No, they hated themselves and used me as the scapegoat reasoning.

Did I love and try to protect my parents the best that I could? Yes, more than anyone I was there to parent them.

Was I born into a family of mental illness? Yes. Absolutely.

I had no control over anything, thrown into fire. When I started to burn, everyone noticed the fire, and assumed it was me. I was vulnerable. I was different. I was the perfect weapon for everyone’s gain. It was easier for everyone to point at me than themselves.

I am a person. My name is not Sienna. I am not the triplets. 

The greatest thing I’ve learned from my life experiences is that sometimes, we have to give ourselves what others are incapable of giving. For me, that’s love from my mother. I have to give myself love, and welcome love from the good people who want to be in my life.

For me that’s reassurance. I have to reassure myself that I’m not a monster. 

For me, I’ve wanted human compassion. But I have to have compassion for myself, and that doesn’t involve abusing drugs, or self harming. The best compassion I can do is get counseling, and forgive myself for all the hate that I’ve given myself. I have to allow myself to trust other people because I can’t get out of this alone anymore.

One day, I hope to walk with unapologetic acceptance of myself, like in my drawing. I hope to be free of everything I have lost and suffered, and forgive the past. That I can re-associate myself and learn to become my own person again who loves writing, filmmaking, science, and the kind people around him.

Here’s hoping.

~Ashe.

[laymlone-blog]

Fatphobia (20.12.19)

Fatphobia is a systematic dehumanising of fat people that takes on different forms from media representation to microaggressions. 

Usually, people try to say ‘nicer’ ways for fatness like ‘curvy’ or ‘plus sized’. Plus sized is particularly problematic. 

If I am plus sized - what’s so plus about it? The extra, like something you can just take on and off. Ever heard of the “dream measurements”: 90-60-90 (hip/waist/breast) with about a 6’0ft/180cm height? That’s the bullshit standard for female supermodels. 

Google: Twiggy

Some people have never walked into a shop and found nothing in their size and it shows. 

The racial aspect of fatphobia lies in biological essentialism, and especially the creation of ‘BMI’ (Body Mass Index).  BMI was invented in the 1830s by Lambert Adolphe Jacques Quetelet, a Belgian astronomer, mathematician, statistician and sociologist. This was the same time people were putting forth bullshit ideas about ‘criminal types’ - equating looks to criminality. It specifically targeted disabled, poor and dark skinned people.

BMI is a mathematical formula (BMI = weight (kg) / height)  based on an ‘ideal’ human body; in this case, a Caucasian, able bodied, cisgender Male. This was used in the 19th century as a measurement of fitness to sterilize POC, Indigenous people, disabled people, poor people, immigrants and other marginalised minorities. 

It’s connection to eugenics leads on to the next point of health and fatness. 

The connection between fatness and unhealthiness is forced and upheld by rigid norms in households in the western world. With things like ‘Fat Camp’ being implemented in America to deal with the capitalisation of poverty by the fast food industry, fatness is strongly seen as a negative. 

To some assholes, a fat person is barely a person, they’re a walking heart attack waiting to happen. 

A good quote from @ lex_about_sex on Twitter:

“I feel like the go-to-stock response about fatness “you can be fat and healthy” that’s true - but 

Fatphobia is not genuinely about the concern for health and that response legitimises it as a concern

It’s okay to be unhealthy! Unhealthy people deserve respect too!

Instead of continually vesting in the poor healthy/good healthy binary let’s unpack “why” we think it’s okay to debase people for being unhealthy and how it really is ABLEISM which is ultimately a byproduct of capitalism which measures validity via “productivity””

^^ I love this. 

Fatness is fatness - whether it is healthy or unhealthy, a fat person deserves to be treated like a person. 

Now, the stigma, how does it build up? What does it look like?

Let’s think about stereotypes of fat people in media:

The rich, fat asshole who doesn’t give a shit about anyone

The comedic female side character who takes all the shit and probably has good one liners

The old, warm granny

The Black, fat woman who knows how to cook up a feast

The angsty fat girl who sees her fatness as the main thing stopping her from doing anything

The really girly and frilly fat girl who’s bubbly personality makes up for her fatness as ‘ugly’

The guy who likes fat, salty girl because he has a fetish

The fat guy, who happens to be disabled in some way, in some wierd adult cartoon show and has a tendency for violence and being ‘unintelligent’ and has a ‘hot’ wife and kids

The fat kid, who lost weight and is now hot and desirable - ‘the ugly duckling’

The fat person with no morals and probably gets eaten by the end of the story

A bully who is bullying others because of their insecurity about their fatness

The rich, fat king/noble who feasts whilst the peasants are poor, frail and starving

The beer belly abusive step father

I honestly can’t think of many others. 

But yeah, we have these images instilled in us. 

Other shows obsessed with weight loss and gain: Biggest Loser, Supersize Me etc. 

When is the last time you saw a fat girl being completely and utterly happy about her size without being frowned upon? When was the last time you saw a sexed up, healthy version of a fat guy? 

You see so many ads telling people to lose weight, but what about putting on weight? Except pregnancy - which then tells you to lose the weight you gained during pregnancy with a ‘bounce back’.

Skinny people being afraid to be fat, and fat people being afraid to be fat. 

Fuckkk, the skinny characters eating whatever they want because they have a ‘fast metabolism’ but if a fat person ate the same things - ‘they could lose weight by cutting that junk’. Fuck that. 

Oh, getting on a weight measure scale and FEARING putting on weight. The skinny one looking in the mirror and grabbing at a slightly tubby stomach ‘oh my god, I am SO FAT’. 

One thing I want to touch on briefly is the gender aspect, yes it’s difficult for men, women and non binary people. But, the way young girls are brought up, spoonfed media about fashion, girl power and skinniness, thin barbies to play with instead of cars etc. Women are under the misogynist stereotypes. Men have different pressures on them, but fatness is also masculinised. What I mean is that there are different expectations for ideal bodies, but men are (mainly white guys) encouraged to take up space via their bodies, voices and presence whilst women are expected to be as small as possible and be desired by dudes. 

So if fatness is somehow masculinised, what does this do to feminine bodies? It makes them invalid. It creates a sexless idea around fat women. The objectification of feminine bodies disempowers fat women from two angles. 

However for MOC who are really pressured to keep a slim, ‘fit’ figure to be classified as a ‘man’. Fat men are a product of gluttony by over masculinity - they get what they want but have got too much. The stigma around dark skinned, fat men is shown in representation of Black/Brown men being large and angry, abusive or on the other angle being emasculate and feminine. 

It differs when including gender, disability, class, race etc. 

Fatphobia at its core is a White, middle/higher class, able bodied, heteronormative, patriarchal tactic to objectify certain bodies and dehumanise people that doesn’t fit their ‘ideal’ for productive citizens of a capitalist society. 

Fat Acceptance movement has been going on since early 2019. It’s not about ‘liking’ or ‘glorifying’ or ‘beautifying’ fatness; it’s asking to respect fat people. 

Simple basic, fucking respect and inclusion. 

It’s not encouraging skinny people to be fat, it’s saying: it is ok to be fat.

What, you're gonna see a women empowerment post, and say it’s telling men and non binary people to be a woman? Of course fucking not.

It’s about R E S P E C T. Respect. 

Say it again: respect.

Okay, so what can you do?

STOP using ‘fat’ or fat references as insults 

STOP commenting on people’s weight

STOP only including thin people in ‘inclusive’ events

Remember where you have seen fatphobia in your life

Call out your friends on their bullshit

Follow fat people on social media (actively)

Look at the racks when you shop, and see what bodies it prefers and think about it

Don’t determine health by appearance

Throw away your fucking scale

Weight loss doesn’t equal fitness journey

Fuck you and your unsolicited health advice

Don’t buy bigger clothes if there are clothes that fit you right there 

Call it out when you see it

Follow the hashtags fat activists use: #fatacceptance 

It doesn’t matter if a person is healthy or not, just fucking respect them. 

HASHTAG: #fat and angry

Resources:

https://www.them.us/story/these-fat-men-in-fashion-are-tired-of-being-left-out

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gkWjdnc77Mw

Sykes, Heather, and Deborah McPhail. "Unbearable lessons: Contesting fat phobia in physical education." Sociology of Sport Journal 25.1 (2008): 66-96.

Al-Adawi, Samir, et al. "Culture to culture: Fat-phobia and somatization." Handbook of behavior, food and nutrition. Springer, New York, NY, 2011. 1457-1473.

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2018/sep/03/diet-advice-and-tiny-seats-how-to-avoid-10-forms-of-fatphobia

https://www.dazeddigital.com/fashion/article/44828/1/plus-size-mannequin-nike-telegraph-fat-woman-fatphobia

Forth, Christopher E. "Fat, desire and disgust in the colonial imagination." History Workshop Journal. Vol. 73. No. 1. Oxford University Press, 2012.

Strings, Sabrina. Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia. NYU Press, 2019.

Russell, Constance, et al. "“Fatties cause global warming”: Fat pedagogy and environmental education." Canadian Journal of Environmental Education (CJEE) 18 (2013): 27-45.

http://ravishly.com/fat-camp-survivor

https://www.plasticsurgery.org/news/press-releases/new-statistics-reveal-the-shape-of-plastic-surgery

Monaghan, Lee F. "Body Mass Index, masculinities and moral worth: men's critical understandings of ‘appropriate’weight‐for‐height." Sociology of health & illness 29.4 (2007): 584-609.

https://elemental.medium.com/the-bizarre-and-racist-history-of-the-bmi-7d8dc2aa33bb

https://youtu.be/HXGwJevjOfs

https://cocainemodels.com/requirements-modeling-height-age-measurement/

Norman, Moss E. "“Dere’s Not Just One Kind of Fat” Embodying the “Skinny”-Self Through Constructions of the Fat Masculine Other." Men and Masculinities 16.4 (2013): 407-431.

Bailey, Courtney. "Supersizing America: Fatness and post‐9/11 cultural anxieties." The Journal of Popular Culture 43.3 (2010): 441-462.

Usiekniewicz, Marta. "“Dangerous Bodies: Blakness, Fatness, and the Masculinity Dividend." A Journal of Queer Studies 11 (2016): 19-45.

[wp-yahoo-style-1042-yahoopa-blog]

Serena Williams Isn’t the Only One Proving Strong Is Sexy

Serena Williams got real about strength for Sports Illustrated. (Photo: Sports Illustrated)

Serena Williams appeared in the latest issue of Sports Illustrated with a clear message: Everybody deserves to feel comfortable in their body.

“I’m not a size two. It’s okay to look good and feel good and I’m strong,” Williams said. “It’s okay to look strong and to be sexy and to be a woman and to be unbreakable — all those things.”

She added: “I really want to have that influence for people out there that have my body type. I want them to be like, ‘I look good too.’ That’s what I hope for.”

Williams isn’t the only one helping women to see that strong can be sexy. Read on for nine more women who are confident being strong and feminine.

WOWWW what an honor to be featured in @si_swimsuit 2017. THANK YOU to @mj_day & the SI team for including me in this issue. I'm very proud of my body and how hard I have worked to look like this. I of course like everyone else have my days where I feel insecure and not at my best. BUT I think it is that much more important we love our bodies and support each other. It is 2017 and there is NO perfect or ideal body type. SI SWIM celebrates women for being unique and beautiful in our own way which is why I am so happy to be a part of it. THANK YOU @jamesmacari ????

A post shared by Alexandra Raisman (@alyraisman) on Jan 10, 2017 at 12:59pm PST

“I’m very proud of my body and how hard I have worked to look like this. I of course like everyone else have my days where I feel insecure and not at my best. BUT I think it is that much more important we love our bodies and support each other. It is 2017 and there is NO perfect or ideal body type.” — Aly Raisman on Instagram 2017

  2017 has officially begun! As always, NY was GOOD to me!!! ❤️???? Thank you @armorynyc and #NYRRMillroseGames . I hope to be back next year! #NatashaHastings #400MDiva #UARun #NYAC #London2017

A post shared by Natasha Hastings (@natashahastings) on Feb 12, 2017 at 4:27am PST

“I embrace who I am, and I’m not ashamed of being all woman, but being strong and being a figure of strength. I think it’s important that women know who they are and aren’t afraid to stand up for that.” —– Natasha Hastings, Cosmopolitan, 2015

  #FearTheReturn #FridayDec30 #rouseyvsnunes #ufc207 Pic by @ewillphoto

A post shared by rondarousey (@rondarousey) on Dec 27, 2016 at 10:33am PST

“If I can represent that body type of women that isn’t represented so much in media, then I’d be happy to do that. When women say that going on publications directed at men is somehow demeaning, I don’t think that’s true. I think that’s one really effective way to change the societal standard women are held to.” — Ronda Rousey, New York Times 2015, referencing her nude cover for ESPN Magazine

  So excited to make my @SI_Swimsuit debut in the 2017 issue! https://t.co/KVGM0T7LDK | So happy to be a part of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. Where athletes bodies can be beautiful too. No matter what anyone tells you, have confidence in your own body. OWN IT ???? Thanks you @mj_day for the oppurtunity!

A post shared by Simone Biles (@simonebiles) on Jan 10, 2017 at 2:17pm PST

“I was built this way for a reason, so I’m going to use it. To go out there and prove what I can do has taught me a lot about who I am. We can push ourselves further. We always have more to give.” — Simone Biles, Teen Vogue 2016

  #FBF Dream BIG. One of my favorite on court moments. Fourth Grand Slam win. Thanks to my amazing fans for sharing all these images.

A post shared by Maria Sharapova (@mariasharapova) on Nov 18, 2016 at 11:30am PST

“I encourage young girls to follow their strength. Strong bodies come in a variety of shapes and sizes. But I don’t think you really learn to appreciate your body — however it looks — until you truly understand its capabilities. Realizing physical strength is a great gateway to realizing emotional strength.”  — Maria Sharapova, Huffington Post 2015

#Repost @greggdelmanphoto ・・・ The last page of the book. @mistyonpointe #ballet ???? @greggdelmanphoto #mistycopeland

A post shared by Misty Copeland (@mistyonpointe) on Jan 25, 2017 at 9:03am PST

“I’d always believed that what mattered was how I looked, how well I embodied certain standards of perfection. But now I started to understand that my body’s natural evolution into womanhood had validity, too. Dancing had always made me happy, and I wanted that back. So my priority became simply accepting my new self. I focused on what I wanted: to feel good, to be confident in my skin again, to dance. … My curves became an integral part of who I am as a dancer, not something I needed to lose to become one. … And I think I changed everyone’s mind about what a perfect dancer is supposed to look like.” — Misty Copeland, Self 2014

Tickets available NOW for my next fight, March 4 at @barclayscenter Visit www.heather-hardy.com/events (link is in my bio) or come to @gleasonsgym Free Team Heat shirts with every ticket purchase! #heatherhardy #heathertheheat #teamheat #boxing #femaleboxing #girlboxer #boxinglife #boxinghype #boxingnight #boxingday #boxinggloves #boxingfanatik #boxer #boxingfitness #womensboxing #boxeo @dymatize @teamdymatize @adidasboxing @adidasboxing @adidaswomen @brooklyn_boxing @wbcboxing

A post shared by Heather Hardy (@heathertheheat) on Feb 7, 2017 at 5:15am PST

“Sometimes they will say that you’re too heavy or you’re not smart enough or you’re not girly enough. I come from a strong line of women who’ve taught me that it doesn’t matter who tries to keep you from doing what you love, you just do [it].” — Heather Hardy, Refinery29 2016

  Going into the weekend like…???????? #Fbf to my @latina cover shoot…Happy Friyay dolls // Así es como entramos al fin de semana. Foto recordando fotos de la portada de @latina. Feliz viernes mi gente !

A post shared by MankoFit ???????? (@massy.arias) on Jan 20, 2017 at 5:39pm PST

“It took me a little bit just to understand I have to love the body that I’m in because it’s still beautiful. And I have to understand that women come in different shapes and different body types. I’ve used exercise to help me feel more confident inside and out, to help me build the areas that I can actually enhance so that I can feel more comfortable. … I’m trying to get women to move and feel strong and feel confident in their own way, not just trying to fit any other mold.” — Massy Arias, Elle 2016

  Athletes come in all shapes and sizes and I am proud to announce that I am one of the covers of @ESPN the Magazine's 2015 edition of The #BodyIssue. I am honored to represent for Track & Field and the Hammer Throw. #TrackNation #NikeWomen #NYAC #Olympians #RoadtoRio #USATF #BetterForIt #LikeAGirl #plusmodel #plussize #beautybeyondsize #iamsizesexy #nobodyshamecampaign #curvesahead #effyourbeautystandards #curves #honormycurves #HammerThrow #unlv #bodypositive #nobodyshame #ThrowLikeaGirl #TeamUSA Thanks to #ESPN Photographer: Peter Hapak

A post shared by Amanda Bingson (@abingson) on Jul 6, 2015 at 6:57am PDT

“Generally when you look at athletes, you see their muscles and all that stuff; I don’t have any of that. My arm is just my arm — it’s not cut, it’s not sculpted. I don’t have traps bulging out to my ears; I have a neck. I don’t have a six-pack. My legs are a little toned, but they aren’t bulging out. I’m just dense. I think it’s important to show that athletes come in all shapes and sizes. … I’ll be honest, I like everything about my body.” — Amanda Bingson, ESPN Magazine 2015

Read More:

10 Times Male Celebrities Got Real About Body Image

Fat Stigma Can Cause Physical Harm, Says New Study

New Gym Campaign Video Features Real Members of All Sizes

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