All Things Go Boston

I remember sitting on the closed toilet, the porcelain cold on my bare thighs. It was summer and all I wore were spandex shorts in neon colors. It was the 90s. The heat from my tears poured off my skin. I hated myself, my body. I was 9. I remember my parents standing at the door knocking, begging to be let in to where I had locked myself away.

I found out early that ignoring someone is the best way to get their attention. No, that’s not right. Hating yourself is the best way to hear “you’re beautiful.” No, not that. I cried. I cried and cried and felt the pit inside me opening up deeper. I went to sleep fantasizing about losing a limb so I could lose, what, 10-15 pounds?

My father crouched next to me, wiped my tears with one hand while the other clutches my favorite picture of myself. In the Florida Everglades, seeking alligators, my father had snapped a photo of me just as the wind blew a whisp of hair across my cheek and the pink of my jacket accented my natural glow. I thought I looked beautiful. I thought I looked just like his sister, my idol, my godmother.

"Look. You’re so beautiful" he said and I still couldn’t believe it. "You are." And I cried more into my palms, wiping tears and snot on my legs.

"I’m hideous, dad. Fat. Ugly. Everyone at school says so."

"No, Lorelei, you’re not. You’re beautiful, like aunt jan."

And my confidence unfurled like a ribbon over the next thirteen years, tattered and strewn across a living room floor the day after Christmas. I didn’t know it then, but between steroids for asthma and the taunting of children, my brain became a rain cloud of confusion and told me lies.

I wish in that moment I could go back and hug my 9 year old self and tell her I am fine. That we are not skinny, but that it’s okay, no one makes fun of us anymore, and honestly, if they do, we don’t care. Everything is fine. Everything will be fine. It’s good that you’re weird. Only interesting adults come from weird children. I just want to hug her like my sister and tell her I love her so much. No more hiding in bathrooms. No more worrying about what people think. We got this. We are strong. We made it.

“When your heart is broken you plant seeds in the cracks and you pray for rain.”
— Andrea Gibson (via mylittlebookofquotes)

sosuperawesome:

Jewelry by jerseymaids

Buy me all of them.

(via eewitsemma)

// Maybe//

A story about a couple college kids who need cash and go to the tattoo convention to rob people because so many are holding wads of cash for their new ink.


Maybe.
I don’t know.

misterbunni:

sagansense:

Welcome to the United States of America.

What the actual fuck.

misterbunni:

sagansense:

Welcome to the United States of America.

What the actual fuck.

(Source: memecenterz, via eewitsemma)

savingpeoplehunting-things:

doritos-maragaritos:

theramen:

wellhellotello:

fckingmajeliblood:

so-much-hilarity:

I keep having to remind myself that it’s the lionesses that do the hunting and killing and get their faces soaked in blood I mean is there a more badass animal



the king of the jungle
in the second it’s like ‘maybe if I look away she’ll stop yelling at me’

I TOLD YO BITCH ASS TO PICK UP THE CUBS

Its the alpha

Fun fact:When Lions fight they try to look big and powerful to scare off the opponent.
When Lionesses fight, it’s to the death,
And I think that pretty much sums up the difference between males and females. One tries to big itself up, one won’t back down.

savingpeoplehunting-things:

doritos-maragaritos:

theramen:

wellhellotello:

fckingmajeliblood:

so-much-hilarity:

I keep having to remind myself that it’s the lionesses that do the hunting and killing and get their faces soaked in blood I mean is there a more badass animal

the king of the jungle

in the second it’s like ‘maybe if I look away she’ll stop yelling at me’

I TOLD YO BITCH ASS TO PICK UP THE CUBS

Its the alpha

Fun fact:
When Lions fight they try to look big and powerful to scare off the opponent.

When Lionesses fight, it’s to the death,

And I think that pretty much sums up the difference between males and females. One tries to big itself up, one won’t back down.

(via riseto-thesun)

There was a time when I got heartsick thinking I’d never find anything as beautiful as the sun rising in winter over a hill at Denison. And then I saw the sun rising in winter between the arches at Easton and I thought how I’ll miss it when I move. And then I saw the sun rising in winter between Boston’s architecture. And I realized, the sun rises everywhere. Just like I do. Meeting the day, the new place, and letting my heart unfold like rays onto crystals of snow.

laugh-addict:

little-bitty:

pleatedjeans:

It’s literally impossible to pick a favorite character on this show.

(via wendybird)

There will always be an excuse until the excuse is “I love myself”

(Source: beyondtheweb, via albeeats)

(via mike-hutch)

highheelsandhangovers21:

Felicia “Fo” Porter

(via providenceandprose)

Don’t talk to yourself in such a way that if you did so to a friend, it would end your friendship.

If you had a friend dealing with the same things, you wouldn’t berate that person, say, ‘You’re not working hard enough,’ ‘You suck,’ or ‘You’re not as good as [whomever].’ You’d offer your friend encouragement, you’d try to point out all the things your friend did right, and how much progress your friend had made.

You should do no less for yourself. Be very careful how you talk to yourself. Because you are listening.
Pat Cadigan (via hallonjuicen)

(Source: ellenkushner, via risskyy)

lifehacks247:

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lifehacks247:

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(via apatheee)

Welcome, I live in a weird world of sparkles, unicorns and magic that sometimes collides with realism and cynicism. Let's get crazy. All of the writing, ideas and dreams in this blog are copyrighted to Laura Masters and if you steal them, copy them, claim them as your own, you will be sorry. I mean that.