I am easy-going and don’t make demands on people but in this situation I may be entitled. I’ve given him 5 years to figure things out and they still haven’t. When I have to create a pros and cons list of whether or not to stay, it’s not normal. I am a fixer. I’ve always taken in broken boyfriends and tried to fix them. But people don’t change. Given my lifestyle and career choice, I don’t have the option of supporting someone else along with myself right now. Everything the psychic said is coming true in an eerie manner. I’ve already battled the long-distance relationship for 4 years. He’s not looking to move in with me and wants to continue a long-distance relationship because he doesn’t feel that ‘things will work out for me’ in Gatlinburg, ultimately, he does not have faith in what I am doing. I have all these warning signs flashing in my head. He is still debating finishing his degree and can’t find a job and is not looking for work near me. I don’t know if I have the energy to sustain another long-distance relationship. I feel like I am mothering a child. It is not my place to tell another how to live their life, but it is my choice whether or not to have them in it. The idea of losing him pains me. All I know is that we continue to have the same conversation which leads to nowhere. He can’t decide on a future and lives day by day worrying more about games than his future. If things never change, I feel I will be ultimately doomed. He’s 25, living off of student loans which are running out, cannot find a job, and quit school with no intentions of moving. How is this supposed to work out? I don’t want another man. I just don’t want to deal with this situation anymore. I want to feel like I am worth it. That someone believes in me and can be passionate about their own career and excited for their future rather than wallowing in some dark hole idling by day after day as their life stands still and as opportunities pass them by. I want to ignite a fire under his feet and make him run in the direction of his dreams but my words fall on deaf ears.
‘Fat’ is usually the first insult a girl throws at another girl when she wants to hurt her.
I mean, is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? Not to me; but then, you might retort, what do I know about the pressure to be skinny? I’m not in the business of being judged on my looks, what with being a writer and earning my living by using my brain…
I went to the British Book Awards that evening. After the award ceremony I bumped into a woman I hadn’t seen for nearly three years. The first thing she said to me? ‘You’ve lost a lot of weight since the last time I saw you!’
‘Well,’ I said, slightly nonplussed, ‘the last time you saw me I’d just had a baby.’
What I felt like saying was, ‘I’ve produced my third child and my sixth novel since I last saw you. Aren’t either of those things more important, more interesting, than my size?’ But no – my waist looked smaller! Forget the kid and the book: finally, something to celebrate!
I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons."
this is personally in my list of things you must reblog when you see it