He's got 5 kids, 5 different hair textures and he knows how to style all of them ☺️😎😎
When we talk present and intentional dads, this is what we mean.
What an absolute gem of a man! 🥰
“No one is forcing you to work at that job you hate.”
MY LANDLORD IS FORCING ME
MY BANK IS FORCING ME
THE GOVERNMENT IS FORCING ME
THE GROCERY STROE IS FORCING ME
MY FAMILY IS FORCING ME
SOCIETY IS FORCING ME
Never do "WIFELY" duties for a damn boyfriend. Women really over extend themselves to win men over and end up looking crazy. I know a lot of women like this and they get treated so foul.
parabéns rihanna por ter filhos lindos com um dos rappers mais bonitos que existem e não com um cantor pop da cara derretida que engravida atrizes pornô e beija menores no palco
I almost died giving birth to our daughter.
Forty-two hours of labor. Emergency C-section. I remember the cold of the operating room and the way the doctors wouldn’t meet my eyes. They said if we had waited another hour, one of us wouldn’t have made it.
I woke up stitched, shaking, numb from the chest down.
He didn’t hold my hand. He didn’t cry. He just asked the doctor if the scar would be “permanent.”
When we got home, I could barely walk. I couldn’t laugh without pain shooting through my stomach. I needed help sitting up. He complained that the house was messy. Said maternity leave wasn’t a vacation.
Two weeks postpartum, he stood over me while I was trying to latch the baby and said, “You know women are supposed to give birth naturally. My mom did.”
I thought he was joking.
He wasn’t.
One night I overheard him on the phone with his brother saying, “She didn’t even give birth properly. They just cut her open.”
Cut her open.
Like I wasn’t split in half to bring his child into this world.
When I finally looked at my scar in the mirror, still swollen and purple, I didn’t see weakness. I saw survival. But every time he looked at me, I saw disappointment.
Then it got worse.
He stopped touching me. Started going to the gym every night. Said he “needed a woman who takes care of herself.” I was still bleeding. Still leaking milk. Still waking up every two hours.
One evening he tossed a waist trainer onto the bed and said, “You should start fixing it before it’s too late.”
I asked him what “it” was.
He pointed at my stomach.
I slept in the nursery that night. Not because the baby cried. Because I did.
Now he tells people I’ve “changed” since having the baby. That I’m emotional. That I don’t try anymore.
I almost died. I gave him a daughter. I carry a scar that aches when it rains.
And somehow I’m the one who failed.
I don’t know who I married. I don’t know how to leave. But I know this can’t be what love looks like.
I find videos like this extremely amusing.
Allah protects the Quran by preserving its complete memorization in the minds and hearts of millions at any given time.
It has always been the recited word, not the paper its written on.
You can burn every single book with the words of the Quran written on it, and you will have gotten no closer to touching it.
Quand on dit que les jeune filles noire ont besoin de représentation de femmes noires qui sont pas des baddies on parle de ça. Comment vous voyez une athlète noire talentueuse poser une marque & la seule chose qui vous préoccupe c’est qu’elle ait ses cheveux naturel. Libérez vous