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how-to-be-a-sad-bitch:
“li t e r a ll y
”

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arach-nerds:

smolandspooked:

smartassjen:

Didn’t realize someone had posted this on Tumblr. Cool.

As exhausting as all the blowback I’ve gotten for this (trans women are remarkable able to unify misogynists and radical feminists in their disgust of us), I’ve been really touched by how many people have reached out to say this argument has changed their mind on the subject.

I’m going to keep talking about it until it stops happening, or trans women cease being murdered for triggering male anxieties.

Hey this is super important. Thanks for having the bravery to say it.

reblog guys this is important

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10 poems written by women everyone should read

thoseliterarymusings:

In honor of International Women’s Day I decided to compile a list of some of the amazing works written by some of the just as amazing and lovely women poets

1. Siren Song by Margaret Atwood

2. Phenomenal Women by Maya Angelou

3. Palanquin Bearers by Sarojini Naidu

4. Fearful Women by Carolyn Kizer

5. Be Nobody’s Darling by Alice Walker

6. Lady Lazarus by Sylvia Plath

7. On Imagination by Phillis Wheatley

8. Chocolate by Rita Dove

9. Awed By Her Splendor by Sappho

10. I Died For Beauty by Emily Dickinson

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(Source: youtube.com)

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thinkivykink:
“Biggest anxious inhale ever.
”

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bi-privilege:

bi-privilege:

i would just like to point out that the recent conversation surrounding the male birth control trials isn’t just “lol weak men can’t deal with side effects” it’s the fact that when they were testing hormonal birth control for women in the 50s & 60s, the side effects were much worse, and the women who participated in them, mostly in puerto rico, were not told about the side effects or that the drug was experimental

and THEN when women dropped out, they started using incarcerated women as their guinea pigs, and then despite the fact that some scientists who participated in the original trials were like “uh i don’t think this is actually good, it’s making a lot of these women sick,” the pharmaceutical industry & fda were like  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and approved it for the general population anyways, without really warning women about the potential for all these negative side effects

and THEN researchers basically ceased to do any type of research on side effects like depression and decreased libido for 50 years, despite the fact that women were still complaining about them, and because there was no “hard evidence” of these side effects, a lot of doctors basically just assumed women were exaggerating or making it up. and that continued until the first major study of depression in women who take hormonal contraceptives was released just. this. year.

so yeah, the patriarchy. *waves flag*

further reading:

oh, and fun fact: even after this new study was released, a lot of the scientific community is still being like “but can we PROVE these women aren’t just depressed because they’re LOVESICK?”

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When you love someone, you do not love them all the time, in exactly the same way, from moment to moment. It is an impossibility. It is even a lie to pretend to. And yet this is exactly what most of us demand. We have so little faith in the ebb and flow of life, of love, of relationships. We leap at the flow of the tide and resist in terror its ebb. We are afraid it will never return. We insist on permanency, on duration, on continuity; when the only continuity possible, in life as in love, is in growth, in fluidity - in freedom, in the sense that the dancers are free, barely touching as they pass, but partners in the same pattern.


The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, not in hoping, even. Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what was in nostalgia, nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now. Relationships must be like islands, one must accept them for what they are here and now, within their limits - islands, surrounded and interrupted by the sea, and continually visited and abandoned by the tides.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s “The Gift From The Sea” (via herdirtylittleheart)
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