Yall see how the Muslims let yall enjoy yall holiday in peace? No religious debates, no Easter slander, no fake outrage about what yall doing etc… Do the same for us 😭
Geno was so unprofessional for the way he came at Dawn Staley at the end of the game. Just foolish and embarrassing. Talk about being a sore loser.
#marchmadness#finalfour#ncaaw
maybe i am delirious after 30 days of fasting, but i am sitting in my room sobbing about how the land gives back to the people who love it and nurture it, how it reassures them of their oneness, how it cradles them after years of suffering with them. I AM SOBBING AT THIS.
pregnant women in high-stress jobs or home situations are statistically more likely to carry female fetuses to term because male fetuses are less likely to survive extreme stress, and if that isn’t nature’s subtweet, I don’t know what is. Even before birth, girls appear to be built to endure pressure, yet we still question whether women can handle high-stakes roles, boardrooms, operating rooms, CEO positions, or other seats of power. Gender inequality is rooted in patriarchy, not SCIENCE.
I didn’t call my husband crying.
I called him angry.
It was 11:47 PM. I was sitting on the kitchen floor, laptop open, staring at an email that said my contract wasn’t being renewed. Just like that. Two years of overtime, weekends, skipped holidays — gone in one paragraph.
When he answered, I didn’t even say hello. “I lost my job.”
Silence. Not the awkward kind. The steady kind.
He said, “Okay. I’m coming home.”
He was on a night shift. I told him not to. I said I didn’t want him to risk it. I said I was fine.
He said, “You’re not.”
Twenty minutes later, I heard the door.
He didn’t try to fix it. Didn’t start giving solutions. Didn’t say, “You’ll find something better.” Didn’t minimize it.
He just sat on the floor with me.
He ordered food because he knew I hadn’t eaten. He closed my laptop because he knew I’d keep rereading the email. He made a list the next morning not of jobs for me but of bills he could cover alone “for as long as it takes.”
The next week, I found out he had quietly moved money from his personal savings into our joint account.
Not because I asked.
Because he anticipated.
Months later, when I apologized for being “a burden,” he looked genuinely confused.
“We’re married,” he said. “There is no yours and mine when things fall apart. There’s just us.”
That’s when I understood something about marriage.
It’s not about who plans the best anniversary or posts the sweetest captions.
It’s about who sits on the kitchen floor with you when your world collapses.
It’s about who absorbs your panic without adding their own.
It’s about who turns “your problem” into “our plan.”
Marriage isn’t loud.
It’s steady.
And when it’s real, you don’t have to beg someone to show up.
They already grabbed their keys.
In case you didn’t know
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I will always educate you
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that
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What we are witnessing in #Sudan is modern day genocide