You Should Never Apologize About Your Body
You should never have to feel as if you need to succumb to the ideal. Because there is no ideal.
You should never have to feel as if you need to succumb to the ideal. Because there is no ideal.
It is in being looked to as the authority on such matters as rights and justice, because your voice somehow holds more weight because people are more apt to listen to you.
Human interaction – flirting or otherwise – is becoming obsolete.
The Religious Ballads.
By day two, the headache didn’t go away. By day three, I almost asked a woman selling churros on the street if she sold churro juice.
And the sheen the city once had when it was new and exciting and fresh and you’d just moved here the first time, that sheen is still there, but it’s warped a little.
But whatever your circumstances, you have to remember that you never have to measure up to these people, the ones who have no right to judge you to begin with, just as you can’t judge them for all of the things they have.
The Charlotte part of our brains is reserved for the archetypal notions of femininity that have managed to stick around even after Working Girl and everything else that suggested that women might actually be useful for something outside of looking pretty, raising children, and having dinner on the table by 6:30.
Whether we end up endorsing it à la Klan Kardashian is another matter entirely, but there’s something so shameless about heading out to that shady party or drinking an entire bottle of scotch or dating that crusty guy with the sole aim of having a good story to tell later.
“Oh no,” they think, “she’s like a loaded bomb. A former fat girl can detonate at any time. All it takes is one slice of cake, and she balloons. It’s Oprah Syndrome. No woman, once fat, stays skinny forever.”