Breathe; Inhale. Exhale.

what doesn’t kill me leaves a pit in my stomach that never goes away

The really unfortunate thing about mental health progress is that sometimes you realize you've made it in the form of "wow, I haven't felt this bad in a fucking while"

On the one hand it's a bit of a pick me up in a dark place to know that this will pass because it has passed before on the other hand sometimes it isn't entirely a pleasant thought to go "wow, I used to feel like this all the time. That was pretty fucking bad. It's pretty bad right now too also."

Someday your current baseline will be the sort of thing you consider A Really Bad Day. It does get better.

what a privilege it is to come home to a little animal that loves you like you're their whole world.

hey. you have to love your trans brothers of color okay. and your trans sisters of color. and your nonbinary siblings of color. you have to okay. its simply non-optional

And here you are, continuing on, despite how hard it's been lately. Proud of you.

not femme as in small, fragile, delicate thing but femme as in "you can come home to me, and then we'll be okay'

btw i'm ignoring or even blocking (mood dependent) anyone who says "b-but what about both 🥺🥺" read the room. this is for loud femmes, fat femmes, femmes of color, genderqueer femmes, trans femmes, intersex femmes, any beautiful combination of the above and any other femme who has had to fight for their place amongst the stereotypes we see in our community. if you like to comment on your meekness, whatever idc yolo do what you want. don't attach it to your femmeness. please. not only for my sake but for yours

Shoutout specifically to black femmes. Their hair, their nails, their makeup. All the forms of nuanced gender expression they have that wider society refuses to acknowledge. Sapphic spaces are better for having y'all in it.

something about her talking about her interests all excited-like.. yes pretty girl keep going i'm doing cartoon heart eyes