find peace and happiness again

i feel so defensive and protective of people with ARFID like if i had a disorder that made my brain register 90% of food as poison for no reason and i had a bazillion people on the internet constantly calling me a manchild who needs to just grow up and stop being a picky eater i would start killing people

people with ARFID and people with very few autism safe foods and people with contamination OCD and people in ED recovery and everyone else with a complicated relationship with food that no one takes seriously GET BEHIND ME!!!!!!!

One time a friend told me that if she wanted to have a chill night she would come to me and ask for tea and a book to read. I didn’t like tea at the time, but I always made sure my cupboards had them in case she needed a quiet night. One time I told my boss that I loved oranges, but couldn’t peel them because of my nails. For a year he made sure to peel me one at least once a week. Once my friends gave me a made up superlative of “most likely to have a pen they could borrow” and ever since I’ve made sure I always carry a pen with me. A long time ago, my high school librarian told me that no one would care what my grade in my sophomore chemistry class was if I’m bringing them doughnuts and asking them about their day.

Sometimes friendship is about carrying pens and peeling oranges. But the point is, surrounding yourself with people who you want to do the little things for. The point of it all is bringing in the doughnuts because you’ve found the people who deserve the doughnuts.

How sweet it is to be with people you enjoy taking care of

important reminder that most people you follow online are significantly lamer than you think they are including me. and if you feel insecure comparing yourself to someone online: DON'T. theyre probably also lame and weird. most people on the internet are

reblog if you're also lame and weird.

why are you as an adult watching things at full volume in a public space

there should be an emoji that’s a person with their hands behind their back silently observing a situation

Pat Ningewance, a first language Ojibwe speaker, once commented that it was awfully hard to effectively translate a lot of English poetry into Ojibwe because there is no way to say things like “her slim arms” bc the only word in Ojibwe for anything like that basically sounds like “her arms were just skin and bones” while meanwhile there is a whole word that means “beautifully fat” (minogaamo) bc that was way more valued in Ojibwe culture than being skinny, which probably meant you were malnourished

For those expressing interest in Pat's work, I recommend her introduction and translation of Anishinaabe writer George Kenny's poems and short stories, Gaawiin Mawisiiwag Anishinaabeg / Indians Don't Cry, and the book she wrote of her mother's storytelling, Gii-nitaa-aadisooke. The second link goes to the publishing company she owns, which also has one of the best available textbooks for learning Ojibwe, titled Gookom's Language.