that awkward moment when I try to switch Niall and Ellen’s faces and they still look like themselves
stop reblogging this before ellen sees it and puts it on her fucking show
let’s reblog this till ellen sees this and puts it on her fucking show
if anybody asks me why i hate men, i’m just gonna redirect them to this post.
it’s pretty fucking obvious that men only want to invest in breast cancer research to further degrade, objectify, and jerk off to body parts they already feel 100% entitled to. that’s what is at stake for them.
what about the women whose “tatas” weren’t saved? how must they feel being surrounded by awareness ads that focus more on keeping women’s sexy-sexy-titties-to-continue-titillating-the-males than saving real life human beings and helping survivors?
If anyone’s wondering, those posts came from here. It’s a forum for breast cancer support. Give it a read, and you’ll see how many women are outright abandoned by their husbands, sometimes after being married for decades, because their “tatas” couldn’t be saved.
This culture of “save the tatas” even goes as far as the doctor’s offices themselves. Most doctors request that the husband be present during surgical consultations, as though he has an equal say in the patient-professional discussion.
If the woman is single, as was my case, doctors have actually recommended postponing surgery until she finds a relationship, because “it could be nearly impossible to find someone who accepts it [your unnatural tatas] in years to come”.
I’m 15 months post-mastectomy, and the date I had this past week was the first time since then that a guy hadn’t reacted negatively to my scars. The relief was so overwhelming that I was fighting back tears. When I told him —essentially warning him that my body wasn’t what he must be expecting — I felt so guilty; it seemed to have the same weight and shame as telling someone I had some sort of an incurable STI or a felony record.
I shouldn’t have felt that way. I should not be ashamed of choosing to live.
Thank you for your important commentary! I hope you find someone who can love you for who you are and admire your strength as a survivor.
holy shit this just makes me so immensely disgusted and i actually feel sick to the core??? just. holy shit.
when my mother was getting a surgery consult for the lumpectomy, the surgeon actually insisted i was in the room with her and kept asking my opinion ABOUT MY MOTHER’S BOOB even though we were both visibly uncomfortable with the situation
i mean for fuck’s sake i’m her son, that’s a: awkward as hell and b: it’s just a fucking TIT, who cares if it “looks good” as long as she fucking LIVES, jesus god damn christ, why is it that doctors think a man has to sign off on a fucking tit???
anyhow fuck “save the tatas” campaigns
*falls down fifteen flights of stairs and through a window*boo ya
Uterus, I do not understand your need to have a baby. We cannot afford a baby. I do not want a baby. Hell you wouldn’t even be happy if we had a baby. I find these temper tantrums you throw every month we don’t have a baby absolutely unacceptable.
self diagnosing is so hard because everytime you’re like “maybe I am mentally ill” theres also a big part of you going “nah you’re probably just a naturally lazy/nasty/disgusting/useless person trying to find an excuse for your behavior” because of the institutionalized ableism that runs through everything
So go to the doctor and get an actual diagnosis?
Why don’t poor people just buy more money?
things girls do that I love:
- offer their friends sips of their coffee drinks without being asked
- scratch each others back
- say things like “smell this lotion I bought this weekend”
- compliment each other’s eyebrows
- that thing when they agree with you and their eyes get really wide and they nod their head solemnly
- throw out each others gum wrappers or chip bags when they get up
Found these interesting facts that make you think. Here is where I got them from: (Source)