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Reblogged from kimberleylalalauren  11 notes

kimberleylalalauren:

Here’s your fucking breast cancer awareness. It’s not some fancy boob job and weight loss miracle.

It’s trauma, physical and mental. It’s depression, anxiety, insomnia. It’s burnt skin, fatigue, pain. It’s not recognizing how close you could have been to dying because you’re caught up in a whirlwind of doctors appointments between naps. It’s losing friends because they don’t care to hear about what having breast cancer (or any cancer) is really like. For some it’s pretending to be okay for the sake of your children and coworkers. It’s fear of what a sexual partner might think of you scars and lack of nipples. It’s disgust over seeing people wearing anything that says “save the boobies/ta tas/second base” because you know they care more about your anatomy than your actual health.

It’s not pink.

oceanashenue:

so today my ap art history teacher was teaching us about Hapshetsut the only female pharaoh and he was like “have you seen women they can pop out a baby and be like alright let’s go” and then he walked over to this guy and aimed his fist towards his balls and the guy flinched and held his crotch so he was like “men may be stronger but women are tougher” and then he said “so when someone tells you to grow a pair, they mean ovaries”

My husband’s grandparents think quotation marks add emphasis to things. The first time I got a card that said “Happy ‘birthday’” I was like…ummm do they not believe its my birthday?

My husband’s grandparents think quotation marks add emphasis to things. The first time I got a card that said “Happy ‘birthday’” I was like…ummm do they not believe its my birthday?