#what do you think am i romanticizing shit

[solar-sunnyside-up]

Hey, I’m sorry to dump this on ya but your blog gives me a lotta hope and I just wondered if you had anything to say to my current ails- I am but a very anxious teen and I am so scared. I see so many people talking of how the world “Will end in 2040” or how “damn the past was so much better because it was simpler” and I am lowkey starting to believe that. I’ve got a problem with romanticizing a past I wasn’t even a part of and I really don’t want to live in some awful dystopian future and I fear I’ve missed out on so much because of when I was born :( and how come no one can afford basic shit anymore? I don’t wanna have no money at all! I really would like to be happy in the future but with all the bullshit caused by social media and the lack of money it seems bleak. I’m sorry that this is such a negative ask but I am not doing so hot and was hoping you’d have an insight ? Don’t respond if you don’t wanna

Hey ya there sprout 🌱 it can be really tough out there!

Your feelings are valid, so valid in fact that those exact feelings are why Solarpunk as it currently exists is around! We've all been there!

Between the wages of the top 10% of ppl vs everyone else being greater then during the French revolution, the average citizen globally being worse off then when the great depression was happening, climate crisis after crisis, all while consuming endless bits of info both horrifying (ex Politics) and hopeful (ex Social Media activism) it's waaaay too much for anyone to bare alone! Much less constantly! That burden shouldn't be on any of us!! But since it is, I'm here to help at least lighten the load even if temporary.

The best thing to do when we feel like this is to stop. Find 5 minutes to be still. We are fight/flight/fawn creatures and we will only loop in our solutions without actual clear choices if we don't Chill Out. We're mammals our natural state is Chilling Out and Play.

Next, think about how cool the planet is and particularly how cool humans are?

How there's finger flutes on ceilings thousands of years old, smaller then average indicating that parents held their children up to draw on the ceilings.

Think about the invention of looms and spinning fibers! What other creature could do that? Think about the kids that could build Snowmans without aching fingers because of lovingly knit mittens.

We sing like whales do, like birds do, like wolves do, and we do it to share stories and ideas over food! It is the first things babies mimic! We have songs so old we no longer know their origin just that they came from love! We even have songs to herd cattle meaning music transcends just us but bleeds into our relationships with the planet!

That we have play behavior! Just like wolves and foxes and whales and octopus it is so built into our DNA to play its generally how we learn things! This ranges from agriculture (children tossing seeds around, blowing on dandelions!) To chores (parachute games > folding laundry, playing pretend > usually chores/job based) to hunting (tag! Hide and seek!)

Think about our interconnectiveness with the planet too, how we are guided by Honey guides to find abandoned hives to share in the spoils of bread and honey. How Sweetgrass needs us to flourish, how berries and nuts need us to spread across the land, how we fix other animals broken bones and beaks and help them return home when otherwise they wouldn't ever get home.

Now that you can remember we deserve to be here, that you deserve to be here. We can look at the current situation and bare it.

And we do that by doing small things. Jam out and listen to music while picking up litter on your block, go to a library and just hang out or research something you love, make seed Bombs and toss them I to abandoned lots, make silly cartoons. Whatever it is, it will be enough.

The weight of the world isn't ment for the individual no matter how much Capitalism and Elites will try and guilt you over their failures. That weight is ment for collective groups, but your job as a Person is to be happy where you can and to be kind so others can be happy. The last thing that I always keep in my heart is a quote from my fave author Ursula Le Guin:

Hang in there, a brighter tomorrow is gunna happen. I promise 🌻

[tooliltoolate]

I'm not very tall. I'm also not very handsome. I can't keep the conversation flowing like others, and I tend to make people feel awkward. I don't get the references people make, and I don't have any interesting talents. 

My self esteem has always been low. Of course, this doesn't mean it never fluctuates. Maybe I have a good conversation with someone, I accomplish something, or I get to eat good food. Conversely, I feel especially down and scrutinized whenever I have to speak in public, or when I'm made to repeat what I said. But in general, I've never had a good impression of… myself. It's paradoxical. I've also always thought myself to be smarter than everyone else. Academics is the odd one out; the only place where I've stood out was in school. I've always known this, and hated it to an extent. Because its cliche. Everyone knows the trope, intelligent but socially awkward, honest and smart but not much else. I've always, always wanted to be more than that, but I only fail. I'm not good at music, or at writing, or at art. I'm not good with people, or at sports, or with money. And I've tried, I've tried a lot. 

And I think that's one of the main flaws with how I view myself: it's always based on the perception of others. Fake it till you make it, be comfortable with yourself and you'll become more charismatic. I hate that stuff. I hate the idea that I have to compromise my very being to conform. I want to be loud, to proudly exert my joys and fantasies onto the world, but I'm also scared. A part of me does want to wow everybody. That's how I was as a kid after all, the star of the whole school. But what I really want is a hobby. You could say I like reading, but I don't mean that. Reading is passive, uncreative. Creating thoughtful analyses or critiques would be a different thing altogether. I would actually love to do that. But I don't. I love it when I read other people's analyses, but when I myself read, it's very rarely a thoughtful process. I'm not saying enjoying wonderful media is base or unhealthy or wasteful or whatever. Everyone should continue doing that. It's just not what I want my hobby to be. A hobby should be an art. Something you strive to improve in, no matter how dumb it is. It should be an avenue for creation, expression. And it should be personal. 

It's such a small thing, but as someone who basically only knows how to study, it's something I've always envied. I want to create, to just lose myself in the doing of something. Because that stretch of time, now that it's gone, can now only ever be mine and mine alone. I want to be so entrenched in a niche that I'd look incomprehensible to my friends. But that would be fine. Because all I want is to be a kid and be dumb again. Just make. Make up for the time in my childhood when I should have been making memories, but was instead studying. I want to carve out a few hours of my everyday where I don't have to impress anyone or be anxious for the future, but instead I just create all the dumb shit in my head, just create myself.

[rithmeres]

bait / hook / line / sinker

[toytulini]

Disclaimer im just processing some thoughts im not cancelling the show

have almost thoughts about how i find the like....narrative on here that if you have chronic "zebra" conditions youd want a doctor like House and wouldnt sue for malpractice bc at least youd have a doctor that cares about whats wrong with you but lets take it one step further. so often he does NOT give a shit about the patient and actively endangers them frequently with his god damn heoric era of medicine approach? non zero amount of times he gets a diagnosis but it comes too late, or he gets a diagnosis after their first wrong 3 guesses of the episode shut down the patients kidneys and they either have to get a transplant or they are just, doomed due to other preexisting conditions etc? idk. i know ppl are almost certainly exaggerating and just letting off steam about the very real failures of our current medical systems and the ableism baked in and All That Shit. i just think its weird how ppl romanticize House who STILL, FREQUENTLY, MULTIPLE EPISODES will actively dismiss shit in the exact way that is a problem in our current system, especially when hes being Forced Against His Will To See Clinic Parients, he loves to be dismissive as fuck of symptoms and if he was a real doctor i think he'd be fucking 50/50 on cases he Notices Something To Dig Into vs cases he dismisses as an Anxious Hysterical Woman Who Wants Attention, the only reason he's Right so frequently in his snap judgements is cos it reinforces the narrative. its like a crime drama that has the mastermind serial killer masterfully using "loopholes" and lawyering up all sneaky and dodging Justice and if only our poor little cop protags were allowed to do A TEENY BIT of Justified Police Brutality, they could Save Lives!

and like sometimes in the show they will have a patient die despite his efforts to narratively punish him. not to mention, i think its been at least mildly brought up and glossed over how much they absolutely do not think about insurance costs for these ppl for the insane amount of tests that find nothing and Wrong Medications To Force A Diagnosis they use? i think it was brought up once in the episode following a day in the life of cuddy where she had to fight a lawsuit bc a guys insurance like didnt cover his thumb being reattached but chase reattached it anyway while in surgery cos it was The Right Thing To Do and the guy didnt have the money to cover it and the insurance wouldnt pay unless he sued the hospital or whatever. thats like the only time its come up. whereas like frequently the doctor I go to for osteopathic manipulation tries to check in with me and make sure im covered by insurance etc and that im not going to go broke or get buried in medical debt seeing her.

idk. just some Thoughts. not a defense of our current system and all the flaws it enables and enforces etc. his approach to medicine is really reminiscent to me of what I know of the Heroic Era Of Medicine which i dont...love? and hes framed on here as being an asshole but would kill for his patients to get them a diagnosis etc. but hes definitely extremely paternalistic to patients ? and despite some good clippable lines about ableism and being against eugenics, it honestly feels like his stance on that is kind of a toss up.

[musical-chick-13]

23-year-old me wasn't happy, but I miss her.

[dykrophone]

every day i realise how deep i've sunk into the techbro hole and die a little more on the inside

[malkaviian]

im home earlier than i thought

[myteenangstbullshithasabodycount]

i've been thinking a lot about having a real counterculture in the modern day too. idk how it would exist but i think it's fairly obvious that it wouldn't be able to come from social media at all, but beyond that it may involve an outright rejection of smartphones. back to flip phones and downloaded mp3s, or cassette players. this is just kinda my own fantasizing but also i basically live like that anyway so idk

Offline living absolutely crucial- my dream countercultural movement involves reinforcing physical community spaces as well as community action, incredibly regulated and minimal internet contact and no smart devices turned appendages, and more analogue ways of spending dead time. Games, arts, books, social interactions, hobbies, a return to previously established subcultures. Less a unified movement with a label and a specific set of interest but rather a push for a broader paradigm shift in our ways of thinking, doing, and living. My mom told me once about how when she was a kid in the 80s/90s the hot thing to do in town as a youth was drive up and down the main highway in town- if you saw anything going on anywhere you'd pull over and see whats up: cruising! Cruising sounds fun! Or regularly meeting with acquaintances in cafes or rec centers! Public spaces! Every day i wish i could go back in time to go to a real og arcade! Needed change goes beyond personal responsibility with this- there would have to be a concerted activist effort to sort of degrow and reform our cities and towns. But thats kind of end game. And absolutely under no circumstances can it have a name or a uniform. Hippie, beat, goth, punk, grunge, all names lost to commodification/being defanged. I dont know how else to articulate this it just absolutely must hinge on actions and not any generalizable term. Destroy aesthetics. Necessary (compassionate) gatekeeping also essential bc of this. Tldr shirk commodity embrace the humane. Not just alive but Living. I'd like to be living. I dont know how this could be organized without relying on the internet though honestly.... ppl are kind of helpless and well it would seriously be COUNTER culture.. i think id like to try though. I cant live if i dont have People who i can Live with im realizing

[bumbleblurr]

I can enjoy sh0ckblur but like in the way that they're divorced from the start. I mean that they meet for the first time and they're already so done with each other

[zemnarihah]

i got pulled over and i have to go to court i think

[trans-leek-cookie]

vague thought but I feel like we and I mean like. Everyone of us needs to learn to like. Idk self reflect and learn not to be voyeurs... Like this is abt myself as well. Specifically in cases of real life tragedy, like, when do we go from learning abt something to using it to feed a sort of entertainment (in a similar way to a horror movie)? How do we learn to identify when something is excessive? Sure, details can be important, but when do they stop teaching and start just being fuel for a morbid fascination?

[lightningfilledsaber]

I s2g every time I see posts that make good points and actually get notes on this app, the fucking op is a see en see-er or some shit

[mirtifero]

personal

[igotanidea]

Coke and disappointment: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, friends to lovers, bad date on reader's part

Summary: when a date goes wrong, who's better to talk to if not a best friend. Even if that best friend happens to secretly have feelings for you and the complaining may actually push him over the edge...

A/N: sorry for the typos and mistakes, no time to proofread :D I'll fix it later :D

***

He was a fool.

A stupid, idiotic fucker who was too stubborn to speak up.

Too scared to tell the girl he liked that he liked her.

And now he was about to lose her.

Jason let out a shaky exhale, feeling his heart shutter at the thought she was about to move on with her life and leave him alone. Again. And then he punched the wall in a poor attempt at transforming that sadness into rage.

Rage was easier and he knew how to navigate it.

He took in the surroundings of his apartment, a little cluttered and shabby, but still it was the place he called his. Just last night she was casually lunging on his couch, texting on her phone with that stupid smile that always made his heart melt.

She was texting him. That other guy who obviously did not deserve her.  HE could have been the prince charming himself, be a gentleman with the look, but in Jason’s opinion he did not deserve her.

She was so close on that stupid couch.

So close.

All he had to do was take one step forward, take the phone from her hands and fucking tell her how he felt.

And then she jumped in the air, laughing and spinning around, proudly announcing she had a date.

And suddenly she was not so close anymore. Almost like those three words made a mountain grow between them.

A mountain, a sea, a valley and a desert.

His words died in his throat and he just smirked, throwing his usual meaningly funny comment and shut his heart once more.

And now he was spread on the same couch she was yesterday, with a bottle of beer in his hand, thinking stupid thoughts.

***

“Are you drinking without me?” the door swung open and Y/n walked inside like she owned the place, almost immediately heading towards the fridge and grabbing herself a bottle of cola zero.

“The hell Y/N? The hell you’re doing here?!”

“Can’t I just pop in at my friend’s place?” she raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her drink.

“Oh, no, you know what, by all means come in at any time. What if I was with someone?” Jason hissed in response, moving on the couch to make space for her.

“Well then, if so, you should remember to close the door.  As much as I wouldn’t mind the show, I’m pretty sure the girl you’ll be taking advantage of would not be delighted with an onlooker.”

“You’re disgusting Y/N.” Jason sighed with a hint of a smirk.

“But I’m not wrong, am I?” she grinned and poked his ribs playfully.

“No. No you are not.”

“Yeah…”

That yeah coming from her was supposed to be said in a funny tone, but came out a little desperate, the silence that fell after only added to that sensation.

“Hey Y/n/n?”

“Hm?”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“About what?”

“You know what.” Jason frowned and cupped her chin making her look at him

“That little failure of something that I already romanticized in my head before?”

“Yeah. About that.”

“Actually, yes, let’s talk about it. Maybe you can tell me what is wrong with today’s men.”

“Oh, shit talking the fucker that clearly made you upset. I’m game.” Jason stood up gathering another beer and coke from the fridge, getting ready for the long conversation. “Do tell.” With the force he jumped back on the couch, Y/N flew a few inches in the air.

“He came late.” She started and Jason booed “he was dressed as if it was a beach or something. And then he took me to the park—”

“Hopefully those punches and moves I taught you helped?”

“Right, cause we were fighting squirrels.” Y/N rolled her eyes “come on, be serious, it was the middle of the day in a public place. Using those punches will only make me get attention to myself. I settled on the good old kick in the groin.

Jason laughed. It was obvious the meeting did not go well.

“He was only talking about himself. Like all the time. Never once asking a thing about me.”

“You could have started talking yourself. I’m pretty sure the fucker had to make breaks for breathing?”

“Actually, I’m starting to believe he’s that one parasite that scientists discovered and that does not.”

“A parasite huh?”

“Pretty much so.”

“So, he took you to the café?”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Nope.”

“Wait, you’re serious!?” Jason turned abruptly to meet her eyes. “So the hell were you two doing?”

“Walking in the park?” Y/N raised an eyebrow “just told you?”

“For two hours?! How big was this fucking park?”

“Well….” Her gaze traveled lower and she started fidgeting with her fingers.

“What else?”

“Nothing.”

“What else, Y/N?” Jason almost groaned in frustration.

“At some point we took a turn and had to literally bush-bash.”

“No!” much to her surprise Jason started guffawing

“Hey, stop laughing! It was not funny! I had a dress!”

“Oh, poor little you.” He cackled even harder. “You don’t really want my opinion on that so-called “date” do you?”

“Of course not. I’m not exactly blind to red flags. I just wanted to vent.”

“You can be blind to red flags sometimes.” Jason muttered, quickly drowning the words with the sip of a drink.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You’re spending time with me, instead with one of your girlfriends.”

“I don’t have girlfriends and your red flags are the reason why you are my friend and why there would never be anything else.”

Ouch. That was like a punch to the guts.

“What if there was?” he blurted without thinking, only because the bottle turned out empty and he couldn’t swallow the bile.

“What--?” with a broken word and the way her eyes focused on his face, Jason knew there was no going back. It was now or never.

“What if there was Y/N? What if there was something more…?” with a gentle touch he grabbed her coke and put it on the nearby table, instead intertwining their fingers. “What if—”

“Jason, don’t—”

“Don’t tell me to stay in the shadows while you keep dating men that can’t even take you for coffee!” he yelled and it made her stumble backwards, letting go of his hands. “Fuck! Why can’t you see it?!

“See what…?”

“You deserve –” he started, but she cut him off.

“No. No, don’t you dare tell me that I deserve someone better. I don’t really see men lining up for me” Y/N chuckled dryly “I’m not a teen anymore, soon my expiration date will come and –“

“Shut up!” he hissed, in a blink of an eye finding himself on the other side of the couch, his eyes boring a hole into her face, his hands aching to do so many things… “You deserve more than a mindless stroll in the park, not that the walk itself is a bad thing. You deserve to be spoiled and –“

“Please don’t…”

“If anything more, you at least deserve a good orgasm.” He groaned, unable to control himself anymore, eyes filled with lust and unspoken promises of pleasure.

She was so close. Once again. Only now, he wasn’t going to cross the line. It was her choice. If she wanted to walk out and close the door on him – fine. This would hurt like hell, but eventually Jason would get over it.

But it was her choice and there was no way he would take advantage of her.

As if making her hot and bothered with the look in his eyes, the closeness and the heat from his presence and words was not taking advantage.

***

Y/N was lost only for a second.

It’s been so long since she’s been touched. So long since she felt anyone in that way. And her body needed it.

God knows she needed it.

And she had no power to swim against the tide, grabbing the front of his shirt and kissing him.

***

Jason reacted instinctively.

His strong hands moved to her waist, pulling her on top of him, starting to grind against her, even through their clothes.

He was going to make her feel so good.

So fucking good, taking her to the places she’s never been before.

Only for her. Just for her.

Her.

Now not only in his thoughts and crazy fantasies, but in flesh and bone in his arms, on his couch, pliant and needy for attention.

“Jason….” His lips moved from her lips to her neck, brushing over her pulse point.

“Jason…” his hands rolled her dress up until it was on her waist.

“Jason…” the word became hoarse and breathy when he lifted her up so she was now straddling him.

And he was only just beginning.

Teasing her with one finger, pulling her panties away, feeling the wetness already seeping on his jeans. She was so ready for him just from a few touches. How touch starved and neglected she must have been if just a little foreplay was enough?

“You’re mine tonight…” he groaned into her ear. “Mine. Say it Y/N…”

“Yours…” she whimpered, shuddering at the way his index finger inched closer to her heat.

“Yeah. Mine.” For Jason it felt just right to call her his.

“Please….”

“Not yet baby.”

“Don’t be mean… You promised me—”

“A good time. And that’s exactly what you’ll get. But not like that.”

“Then what—Ah!”

Her cry of surprise tore the air as he grabbed her by the waist, lifted her in the air and carried towards the bedroom, miraculously avoiding all the stuff on the floor. Once in the room, with one hand around her, he threw the cover alongside every little thing on it onto the floor, making quite a noise. But what was a little background mess in comparison to the passion they were both experiencing right now.

They were clearly not friends now, but it was not important.

All the labels, unanswered questions and doubts left their heads as fast as their clothes started flying in all the directions. Bra on the lamp, boxers on the bedpost, shirt on the floor, a mess of clothes in the foot of the bed.

They didn’t care.

All that mattered at that moment was his lips on hers, her hands in his hair, the way his fingers kept pumping in and out of her prepping her for what was coming and the smell of her arousal in the air.

And those moans of pleasure that hit his ear made him hard enough to drill through the concrete.

“So wet…” he muttered

“So good!” she cried out arching her back, turning into a wanton, a bitch, not caring in the slightest about losing control. It felt good to just let go.

“Yeah?” he breathed out pulling fingers out of her, now coated with her juices. “Good?” Jason made sure to trace them up her body, spreading wetness on her stomach, her breasts with those deliciously pert nipples just begging to be abused and finally on her mouth. As if knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from licking those plump red lips in a motion that was both innocent and obscene. “I'll show you good…”

With a groan, almost losing control, he spread her legs, hovering over her, leaning so close that his breath was hitting her face and his chest pressed against her breasts creating unbearable friction.

“Jason… Jason, please…” she squirmed, arched, begged and pleaded.

“I’ll give you everything you need…” he promised, leaning on forearms, slowly pushing inside her, mindful of every expression on her face. Only upon making sure she was feeling the pleasure and not the pain, his eyes moved lower, watching his cock disappear in her.

The dirty look that once again shuttered the fundamentals of his self-control.  

“More!” she cried out, closing eyes, grabbing his shoulders, earning a groan from him.

“Fuckin more!”

There was no interim between bottoming out and adjusting to his size and frenzied pace of lovemaking. They just went from 0 to 100 in a blink of an eye.

He was gripping the headrest, too scared to touch her body In fear he’ll break her from the force. His forearms were straining from the power in those strong arms and Y/N knew he could snap her like a branch. Instead, somewhere deep inside that lust filled brain, he was still focused on her well being and safety.

Not that she could say the same about the way his cock was thrusting. Pulling in and out of her like she was made out of a rubber, shaping her to his girth, making sure to leave the memories of that night not only in her brain but also gouging the flutes on her pussy. For she was his.

Crying out his name

Touching him.

Letting him feel that tight wetness groping him like a vice.

So fucking tight only proving the point that she didn’t get nearly enough sex as she deserved.

“Tell me-“ he gasped, leaning his forehead on hers with sweaty hair clinging to it “How many times before you’ve came-“

“I – I don’t – I can’t-„ she cried out when he lifted her hips, changing the angle hitting deeper, harder, more intensely, effectively silencing all the thoughts. All she could focus on then was matching his pace, keeping that delicious stretch going, igniting the friction, running hands all over his back, holding him tight enough to not fly out into space right away.

“Tell me baby. I need you to say it.” He muttered between ragged breath, feeling his own release knocking at the door more and more stridently.

“Ne- never!” she cried out “Please!”

“Cum for me sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear with the silent promise of catching her and keeping her safe.

And he knew she believed him when her sobs, cries and gasps of climax filled the room, completing the scent of sex with the sound of pleasure.

Perfection incarnated in the form of a sin.

***

“Go on a date with me…”

Once they both came out from their high, laying side by side in the bed-

Once he dared to let out that soft side of his feelings, tracing circles on her sensitive body –

Once the arousal and horniness was gone-

There was no regret. No oh-my-god-what-have-we-done moment.

In fact, in some crazy way, it all seemed natural. Like both Jason and Y/N knew that it was bound to happen and their sex was not an accident or a mistake.

But a date?

“I’m serious, Y/N. Go on a date with me.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“It’s not about owing, baby. I want it. To be able to hold your hand in public, to beat to pulp every single guy that comes too close to you. To kiss you under the moonlight. To walk you home after and come upstairs just to cuddle on the couch together.”

“You sure?” she teased, laying her upper body on top of his, looking into his eyes with a happy smile “that would ruin your reputation as a cold and heartless motherfucker.”

"Some people are worth sacrificing like that…”

“Must be someone special.” Y/N whispered, her heart fluttering at the sensitivity Jason was expressing now.

“She is. A one in the million.” He tangled fingers in her hair, unable to tear his eyes from her naked form next to him.

The happiest fucker in the universe.

And to think she came to his place only to have a coke and complain about a bad date.

Coke and disappointment turning into a chance at a relationship.  

[legallybrunettedotcom]

some people on here act as if anything interesting about a person, any quirk, interest, hobby etc is done for attention instead of genuine interest. like i am fully aware of the existence of insecure and pretentious people and those who so desperately want to appear cool, and we obviously don't live in a vacuum, there is always some sort of relation to other people, the way they'll perceive you, what they'll think of you etc it's normal, but like what? should we all just stare at a blank wall? have nothing to say and do? lest someone calls you pretentious? idk people are just going on about their day, trying to make their lives more bearable, if people want to romanticize their lives through trivial things that don't affect you at all i don't get why you gotta shit on it or accuse them of lying. you're on a social media site. sure it's tumblr, but it's social media and it's curated, people post what they want and reveal what they want about themselves.

[inkskinned]

im gonna start a fight; and, at the same time, i need you to take this in the most good-faith way possible, but:

videos that involve body-checking and intentionally (and uncritically) show a mealplan of an unhealthy number of calories are just a revamped version of pro-ana food diaries.

and yeah, i know there's arguments. i address some of them under the cut. but at the end of the day, we're just coming back to romanticizing mental illness; we've just found a better platform for it.

this is already something we've done. we knew it was wrong and tried to stop it. and tbh. it just wasn't enough.

there are people who argue "well, what if you have an eating disorder, you can't help it if you don't eat!" except that as someone with an ED; we are not infants. we know what we're doing. part of having an ED is that you are like, maybe too self-aware. even if we can't help our own food choices, we don't need to fucking romanticize the disorder - something we've been warning you about since 2013. there are hours of setup, filming, and editing that go into these videos. they do not happen to fall into place randomly. there is a reason they are pieced together to be beautiful, bright, inspiring.

there's this woman who pretty much only posts daily plans under a normal amount of calories, and everyone defends her saying but it's better than nothing! and i'm like. except she opens those with images of her showing off her body and provides no context in the video or caption that suggests that she believes what she's doing is unhealthy. she has hundreds of thousands of followers on a platform designed for young kids and teens. i refuse to believe that by accident her content just happens to be cheery advice on "healthy" versions of starving.

for any other symptom of mental illness, we would be incredibly enraged by this kind of placid acceptance of a "tips and tricks" fast-start guide. imagine if people posted pink & pretty videos saying "best places to cut yourself" as if it was a fucking storytime. we, as a society, are so fucking fatphobic that we would rather accept blatantly harmful displays of self harm than admit that we are obsessed with a hyper-thin body type.

i am not suggesting someone never talks about their disorder. i talk about mine. actually, it's a plot point in my book.

here's the difference: i recognize it's a fucking mental illness. i am very careful to never mention a specific weight, eating pattern, or calorie plan. i always make sure to position it as something that ruined my fucking life. i do not put cheery music in the background and hearts and sparkles over my worst moments. i do not film it in bright light. i do not start each passage with an image of a thin body followed by "here's how to look like her."

eating disorders should not be framed as aspirational. and the problem is that society worships the "after" image, so long as you don't get too sick. there is a reason so many people who quit being "influencers" will later admit - i wasn't eating well that whole time; an obsession with food was completely destroying my life.

we let any uncredited, uncertified person write the most backwards, fucked up shit about how to get the body you desire! because the underlying, secret belief is: well, at least they're thin! and the real thing that fucking gets me each time - they make fucking money off of it. their irresponsibility and societal harm literally pays off for them.

"why do you care so much." "don't like it don't look." "so what if people experiment with new ways of thinking of food?"

thank you for asking. we're about to get extremely personal. it's because when i was 18 i discovered "thinspiration"/"thinspo." and it absolutely influenced, shaped, and codified my pre-existing eating disorder. i went from having some troubling habits and traits to being incredibly unwell within what felt like a matter of days. there were actual pages designed to train me on how to have an ED correctly. it was all so suddenly easy. i was sick; and the nature of the illness meant - i wanted to be sicker.

it takes an average of 7 years for a person to fully recover. i know this personally - even now, 10 years from the worst of it, i still fucking struggle. i am so much happier now and i eat what i want and i literally don't think about food at all (19 year old me would shudder) and yet - i still fucking know the calories of plain toast with butter.

an eating disorder is one of the deadliest types of mental illness. over 1 in 4 people with an ED will attempt suicide.

and i'm sorry. i just do not see the exchange rate of "high rate of engagement" versus "the value of a human life."