Fat, beautiful, mentally ill. Cis femme queer. Love fashion and baking. Pronouns are she and her. Religious. In my spare time, dogs.

 

defunctfashion:

Because of you I knew it was ok for a little boy to want to make dresses. May you rest in peace Oscar de la Renta. 

defunctfashion:

Because of you I knew it was ok for a little boy to want to make dresses. May you rest in peace Oscar de la Renta. 

crimester:

mentally ill people are not inherently abusive and mental illness does not excuse abuse. nothing excuses abuse and therefore:

  • you have to take responsibility for your abusive actions
  • you have to accept the consequences of your abusive actions

boom

snailfart:

The cauldron spilled over.

Purple ombre / jelly sandwich, bottom —› top:

  • Zoya Miley
  • L’Oreal Lilac Coolers
  • L’Oreal Berry Nice
  • Max Factor Fantasy Fire
  • Kleancolor Chunky Holo Black

Orange swirl dry marble:

  • Sinful Colors Cloud 9
  • Sinful Colors Opal Glitter
  • NYC Purple Pizzazz Frost

tamsindennis:

also please stop acting like bi people wanting a character to be bi instead of gay because they’ve had past relationships with another gender is so awful and homophobic. yes, irl people do have relationships with other genders before they come out, that’s fine, but a good deal of the time when FICTIONAL CHARACTERS do this, it’s an act of bi erasure by biphobic writers and that needs to be acknowledged too.

and maybe, idk, bi people relate to that character specifically BECAUSE of their history w/ different-gender relationships and we want to be represented too?? wow incredible who would have thought

no one is saying that character can’t be gay, i’d rather any character be gay than straight, but if you shoot down any suggestions of that character being bisexual bc you think it’s homophobic for them NOT to be gay or that they’re ~validating the male gaze~ or whatever bullshit, please go away and rethink ur life choices

(Source: spookytamsin)

gohomeluhan:

As I’m walking through Target with my little sister, the kid somehow manages to convince me to take a trip down the doll aisle. I know the type - brands that preach diversity through displays of nine different variations of white and maybe a black girl if you’re lucky enough. What I instead found as soon as I turned into the aisle were these two boxes.

The girl on the left is Shola, an Afghani girl from Kabul with war-torn eyes. Her biography on the inside flap tells us that “her country has been at war since before she was born”, and all she has left of her family is her older sister. They’re part of a circus, the one source of light in their lives, and they read the Qur’an. She wears a hijab.

The girl on the right is Nahji, a ten-year-old Indian girl from Assam, where “young girls are forced to work and get married at a very early age”. Nahji is smart, admirable, extremely studious. She teaches her fellow girls to believe in themselves. In the left side of her nose, as tradition mandates, she has a piercing. On her right hand is a henna tattoo.

As a Pakistani girl growing up in post-9/11 America, this is so important to me. The closest thing we had to these back in my day were “customizable” American Girl dolls, who were very strictly white or black. My eyes are green, my hair was black, and my skin is brown, and I couldn’t find my reflection in any of those girls. Yet I settled, just like I settled for the terrorist jokes boys would throw at me, like I settled for the butchered pronunciations of names of mine and my friends’ countries. I settled for a white doll, who at least had my eyes if nothing else, and I named her Rabeea and loved her. But I still couldn’t completely connect to her.

My little sister, who had been the one to push me down the aisle in the first place, stopped to stare with me at the girls. And then the words, “Maybe they can be my American Girls,” slipped out of her mouth. This young girl, barely represented in today’s society, finally found a doll that looks like her, that wears the weird headscarf that her grandma does and still manages to look beautiful.

I turned the dolls’ boxes around and snapped a picture of the back of Nahji’s. There are more that I didn’t see in the store; a Belarusian, an Ethiopian, a Brazilian, a Laotian, a Native American, a Mexican. And more.

These are Hearts 4 Hearts dolls, and while they haven’t yet reached all parts of the world (I think they have yet to come out with an East Asian girl), they need all the support they can get so we can have a beautiful doll for every beautiful young girl, so we can give them what our generation never had.

Please don’t let this die. If you know a young girl, get her one. I know I’m buying Shola and Nahji for my little sister’s next birthday, because she needs a doll with beautiful brown skin like hers, a doll who wears a hijab like our older sister, a doll who wears real henna, not the blue shit white girls get at the beach.

The Hearts 4 Hearts girls are so important. Don’t overlook them. Don’t underestimate them. These can be the future if we let them.

You can read more about the dolls here: http://www.playmatestoys.com/brands/hearts-for-hearts-girls

joyeuse-noelle:

sanityscraps:

Fun fact about American health care: if I ever need an organ transplant, I’ll somehow have to hide my autism, depression, and anxiety from the doctors, or else I’ll be disqualified under ideas about quality of life. It’s really great to know how valued disabled and neurodivergent lives are.

So here’s a thing many people don’t know about me: I used to be a medical data analyst. (I still do it occasionally, but not as a full-time job.) It’s a pretty self-explanatory job: I took data - often in enormous datasets - and analyzed it to find patterns. (Obviously, we couldn’t associate these with individual patients; this was just after HIPAA had come into effect, and so this data was very heavily scrubbed to remove any identifiable information.)

One of the patterns I looked for was quality of life and quality of care for people with severe and persistent mental illness (SPMI). For our purposes, that meant major depression, bipolar disorder, general anxiety disorder, schizophrenia, borderline personality disorder, and “other SPMI” (I encourage you to not send me messages telling me how those categories are terrible, because a) it was ten years ago and b) I wasn’t in charge of the categories.) In particular, we looked at injury, illness, and death in people with SPMI, compared with the general population, while they were in the hospital and at certain intervals after they were released (30 days, 60 days, 90 days, 180 days, and 1 year).

People with severe and persistent illness were much more likely to become ill and/or die in the hospital or shortly after discharge than the “general population”. People with schizophrenia had nearly ten times the deaths while in the hospital, and twelve times the injuries and illnesses.

Just as telling were the notes associated with the patient records. There was a significant pattern in the terminology used. In patients in the “general population”, doctors tended to use the word “is”: for example, “patient is suffering from abdominal cramping”. In patients with SPMI, doctors tended to use the phrase “claims to be”: for example, “patient claims to be suffering from abdominal cramping”.

It was clear to us that medical professionals - in general, I know for a fact that there are doctors out there who don’t do this - were assuming that patients with severe and persistent mental illness were inventing some, if not all, of their symptoms - that the symptoms were not real, and therefore did not need to be treated.

And because of that, these patients were falling ill and dying at alarming rates.

This isn’t personal anecdotes. I spent more than a year analyzing this data - which came from actual hospitals in the United States - and finding these patterns. There’s a problem here.

(I would prefer not to give out the name I was using then in public here, but if you’re interested, message me privately and I’ll see if I can get you links to the articles.)