experiencing that good old argentine racism first hand. there was a punjabi guy in a turban wearing a span jersey and playing the drums for spain fans and this bitch is like “ew all these people in turbans are disgusting, they’re pretending to be spanish, there better not be any fucking moroccans trying to act like they’re from my country! i don’t want them infiltrating my country!” and her and her friends just keep making fun of the indian and moroccan people like ?? have you no fucking shame you stupid bitch what are you doing in nyc if brown people scare your racist ass so much?
I don’t want my daughter to be like me. I want her to speak up sooner. Walk away faster. Trust herself deeper. Apologize less. Take up more space. Ask bigger questions. Dream louder. And if that means she becomes everything I wasnt… GOOD!
Your waitress isn’t responsible for how slow the food comes out, your cashier isn’t responsible for price changes, and your customer service rep isn’t responsible for company policies. Stop yelling at people who are just doing their jobs.
Heartbreak steals your innocence. I remember being so deeply in love and so naive—there’s a bittersweetness when I think back, knowing I’ll never be that soft or vulnerable again.
delayed grief is dangerous. you don't cry. you're numb, and you move on like nothing significant happened. you keep suppressing everything until the day it finally escapes, and when it does, it's like a dam bursting, flooding your mind and heart, making it difficult to cope
@soidoona my mom talking ab my younger sister bc she feels like she has to meet every single requirement & go over the top in every damn thing in life, but i tell her it’s okay to not know something but she feels like a disappointment & it makes me so sad