Sometimes I wish I was 29 with my life figured out & sometimes I wish I was 5 with my whole life ahead of me and not a care in the world
No one realizes how beautiful it is to travel until he comes home and rests his head on his old, familiar pillow.
I can’t believe drawing a black line across my eyelids makes me feel 10x prettier.
My problem was that no one ever needed me as much as I needed them.
Or, you know, you could just stop saying sorry.
I take it you don’t have anxiety.
You can’t “just stop saying sorry”. You do something, something so little, like accidentally bump into someone. You feel horrible about it. Your brain starts panicking and you have trouble trying to breathe. You stutter an apology. They say it’s okay, but you accidentally do it again, and you apologize again. They just say “Aha, you can stop saying sorry.” And you feel horrible that you’ve probably made them angry or upset, so you mutter out an apology for the third stupid time, and they just say to stop saying sorry. Stop saying sorry.
You can’t just tell someone to stop saying you’re sorry.
I want that comment on flyers so I can hang them in my school
reblogging this one for the GOOD commentary.
If you’re going to tell someone to stop saying sorry say, “You don’t have to apologize to me.” and smile. If they say sorry again just say, “You’re fine.” and keep smiling and move on. The faster the situation is resolved the faster the person with anxiety can start to calm down. Please don’t get angry at someone for saying sorry, sometimes that’s all the person feels like they can do.
I’ve always been really bad about this and as a kid I’d always do it around my parents and my mom would always say “STOP SAYING YOURE SORRY.” thank you to the helpful comment.
its so hard to date once youve become socially aware like it really limits who you can stomach letting touch you and once ur eyes are opened they cant go shut again
misconceptions about strippers.
pussy preach more sense than the fuckin government.
I want to break necks when people shade strippers. Let’s see your janky ass get out there and look that cute in 6 inch heels for 8 hours, smiling the entire time, stroking egos, pretending a dude’s breath doesn’t smell like a rotten animal.
My sister has a Masters in Education. She got a job at one of the poorest schools in the city, but didn’t make enough money to pay to keep her tiny house heated through the Oregon winter or buy enough food or take her dog to the vet (first person who drops the word rehome gets a kick in the face.) so she quit and the only job she could get because she’s “overqualified” to work at Fred Meyers was at a strip club because she minored in ballet. I think people forget that stripping is like any other job: you have to have some experience.
And all those crumpled one dollar bills? 20% of that goes back into the club because strippers are renting the stages they dance on. Sometimes it’s more.
Despite all of that, my sister makes more money than she ever did because she works 80 hour weeks and literally never takes a day off. She teaches classes to drunk white girls, she does private parties, she does entertainment for conferences and shows.
When I had to go to the ER last February and got a bill for $800 that I couldn’t pay, my sister sent me money so I wouldn’t be sent to collections.
My sister is the classiest motherfucker in a pair of six inch heels. Anyone who calls her a dumb slut or a hoe gets their shit wrecked.
that’s the best thing i ever just heard get said