Posts tagged sex violence
Posts tagged sex violence
possible trigger warnings: eating disorders, depression, self harm
There is nothing wrong with having red hair. There is nothing wrong with having pale skin. There is nothing wrong with the length of my nose, the size of my teeth or the freckles on my face. There is nothing wrong with being a “ginger”. There is nothing wrong with my height. There is nothing wrong with my weight. There is nothing wrong with the size of my boobs, the size of my butt, the size of my thighs.
I will eat that piece of cheesecake if I want it. I will not throw up the cheesecake after I eat it. A bag of chips is okay to eat. Chicken nuggets are okay to eat. I will no longer binge and I will no longer purge.
When I’m upset, I may cry, but I will not take a blade to my arm, leg, stomach, anywhere.
Sexual assault is not okay, but I will not think about it anymore. It’s over and done.
I will not put myself down, and I will not put others down.
I am beautiful, and there is nothing wrong with the way I look.
YOU are beautiful, and there is nothing wrong with the way YOU look.
Eating disorders will not haunt my life anymore. Self harm will not haunt my life anymore. My depression will continue to improve every day until the day when it’s finally gone.
This picture makes me feel confident and beautiful, and I will not try to find something I don’t like about it.
Everyone is beautiful in their own way and deserves to look in the mirror and feel happy. I hope that all of you do.
Smile, you’re beautiful :)
my tumblr: http://mojohoejo.tumblr.com/
Hi my name is Kelsey (: I have had loads of insecurities ever since I was 10. I couldn’t feel comfortable in my own skin until just recently, which I am 19 now. Trigger warning…
I have been a self-hater & bullied for more than 10 years because of my body type. I’ve self-harmed even though you can’t see my scars. I’ve been sexually abused more than once even though you can’t see my pain. I have had an eating disorder even if it doesn’t show. I have hid my body even though you’re seeing it now. I’ve struggled with my sexuality even though you can’t tell. I’ve been & still am dealing with depression. What I’m trying to say is that it gets better. You can always change your body, but why do it when you can worry about other things that go on in your life. Stop worrying of what others think of you because not everyone is going to love you, but you should cherish the ones that do. I want to be an image that I wanted when I was growing up for women & girls that no matter what bigger size you are, you are lovely. My family is full of big boned & thin sized women, they both struggle with their bodies, & I’m the first out of all of them that is honestly proud of the body I have. It’s hard, I know. You should start loving themselves more, because you are worth it <3
This is me. No make up, just a new haircut that day, and a happy person.
I am an emotional person. However, you wouldn’t know this unless you read my blog or are a very close friend of mine. I always have this positive outlook on life, and I always look at the glass as half full. I also take things people say with every possible intention; so if my ex would say to me, “I love your thighs. They’re like big pillows,” I would silently sit there and think of how large my thighs are, how poochy my stomach is, and how I would love to be a different size.
I know that’s not healthy, but I couldn’t help myself. I don’t think I have ever not indulged this thought process, but that is starting to change.
My cousin (who is my rock) has been my personal trainer at the gym, and I already feel so much better about myself. For me, going to the gym is something for me, and no one else. I just want to feel comfortable in my own skin.
I am only 20 years old, but I have had a lot of time to think about why it is that I think less of myself, and why so many wonderful, amazing, and beautiful people in the world think they are not worthy of love and attention. My conclusion is that while people who are in the limelight are beautiful in their own ways, everyone forgets to love and appreciate their own bodies. It is with complete honesty that I thank the media for this warped vision of what “healthy” and “beautiful” means. If it wasn’t for the media, we wouldn’t have a need for such a wonderful blog and amazing people in the world getting together and cherishing all that we have been blessed to have.
PS If you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to message me here.
My name is Pagent Storm. This is me alongside a picture of my biggest physical insecurity: my lower abdomen. I was born with vesicoureteral reflux. I had surgery at age 3 to reimplant one of my ureters. They cut me from hip to hip and cut an extra hole for a catheter directly into my bladder. This has caused me to have this “flap and extra belly button,” as I call them. I have constantly went back and forth about a tummy tuck to make my body have a more acceptable shape. Every time I get set on the procedure, I realize that I would never be the same. This is part of who I am. That was just the beginning.
My biological father and his family started out my life by physically and mentally abusing me. Him and his brother would molest me and make me feel dirty. He also started to make drugs around me. My mom finally got the court to extinguish his rights and I haven’t seen him since. My mom married my sister’s dad when I was 6. After they got divorced years later, he looked me in the eyes and told me that he hated me and never wanted to see me again.
I always had strange things going on with my body. I started to gradually get worse around age 7. I lost my ability to do normal things other kids could do. I was limited in my activity while other kids were doing what kids do best. I started hating myself. I hated being sick. I hated being held back. Most of all, I hated the way I got treated because of these things. When I got angry or frustrated, I would bite or hit myself. On my 15th birthday, everything got more serious. I started cutting and burning myself. I drank and hung out with the wrong friends. I wanted so much to be accepted that I just lost my mind. At 17, I was needing stitches because of how deep I got. I overdosed on 1700 mg of Seroquel. I was mentally unconscious for four days. During those four days, I had fallen all over the place, threw my mom against the wall, talked a bunch of nonsense and lost a lot of my memory prior to the incident. I remember sitting in my bathroom floor with blood running out of my arm and thinking about much relief I felt. But I learned that it wasn’t the answer and that I wasn’t alone. I started reading the book, A Bright Red Scream by Marilee Strong and thus started my recovery.
Now, at almost 20 years old, I have collected the diagnoses of Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, Fibromyalgia, Eosinophilic Gastroenteritis, irritable bowel, Inflammatory Bowel Disease, Spastic Diplegia, GERD, Bipolar Disorder with BPD, OCPD, severe anxiety, kidney dysfunction, and TMJD. I’m on eleven different medications and I walk with a cane. I also struggle from day to day with my recovery from self-mutilation.
The important part is that I am trying and I am slowly starting to accept myself for all that I am, my body included. What I have gone through isn’t my fault and I am realizing it more every day. I’m more than my illnesses and past tragedies.
I’m beautiful. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. &So are each and every one of you.
hello beautiful people, my name is Carina.
for over nine years now, I have been self-harming by cutting myself. after all this time, the front of my legs, my torso, and my arms are basically mutilated and have thick scars covering every inch of their surface.
this photograph was taken by my loving partner, who has been by my side through my trauma and self-harm. for the first time in nearly a decade, I have begun to wear shorts, I’ll wear a bikini to the beach, etc etc etc. wearing a pair of shorts to a reggae festival the other week was one of the biggest steps I have ever taken. this photograph does not display my scars, because that’s truly not the point. the point is that this is the only body that I will ever have in this life and I recently have begun to treat it the way it deserves.
I am still struggling, I might always be struggling. But every day is an accomplishment and every day is beautiful. I am here for anyone & everyone, if you ever need anything at all, I will stay up all night with you, I will make ridiculous faces, anything to make you feel better. you are beautiful and I mean that.
You are special. You are unique.
Recently, my friends have gone on an “I hate my body” rampage and as they spoke on and on about their flaws. I chose not to participate. If I don’t love myself and believe that I am beautiful, how can I expect others to believe it. I am going to continue to tell my friends they are beautiful and hopefully this video I dedicated to them will prove it.
This is for all you phenomenons out there! Please if you have a chance, click on this link to vote for me for Tyler Perry’s contest:
You don’t hear it enough but, YOU ARE PHENOMENAL (you too boys!)
I figured I would post on this blog, because I saw one of the blogs I follow post and I was inspired. All throughout highschool, and middleschool really, I was told I was too skinny, I looked like a horse, I was too tall, I looked like a monkey, or I was told the complete opposite, that I was extremely attractive, and that I was “hot” or “sexy”, and with one came bullying, such as calling me a horse, and with the other came being used, for sexual favors because of my body. I was at the point where I was disgusted with my body because I would look in the mirror and all I would think was that my body disgusts me, my hair, my nose, my fingers, my legs, everything, about my body disgusted me because it was in constant battle with society, I was either perfect or the worst.
I learned to let that go, and not care about what people said about me or my body, because I realized that at the end of the day, it is me, myself, and I, my body, not anyone elses, my own. I realized I need to make myself happy, and not let what people say govern how I look or think about myself.
I am slowly, but surely getting to love my body and myself more and more as the years go by.
I’ve been through more than you can imagine and i’m only 16. For 5 years I’ve battled self harm and depression, 3 of those 5 I developed Bulimia Nervosa. The things that had happened in my past effected my future and made me into who i am today, also the media shaped me to think that I wasn’t good enough unless i was skinny. But, here I stand with new support from a loving and caring boyfriend and a best friend, I stand 1 year drug free, 1 month clean purging and almost 4 months cutting. I’m learning to except my flaws and find beauty in them. It is possible to recover. Yes, some people slip back but its okay. Get right back up, you can do this i have faith in everyone of you.
if any of you need help or advice here is my blog theresasusan.tumblr.com :)
The only thing that keeps me sane is art..
I never had both parents to back me up. My father and mother split when I was young, and neither supported me. People always just said, “Oh, Maddie just has daddy problems. That’s why she’s sad.” Truth is, there was more to it. I was sexually harassed by my mother at a young age, so I made the decision to get bigger; to become ‘Undesirable’. It worked. By my 14th birthday, I reached a weight of 210. I was proud and believed that things would get better. Once I started high school, kids started changing. They called me ‘Fattison’ and threw food at me. My father killed himself that winter.When I moved in with my mother again, she bullied me. I became anorexic. I lost 80 lbs in a matter of 3 months. I didn’t feel any smaller. Once my mother started abusing me again, I got taken out of her home and put with foster parents. My PTSD caused me to have terrible anxiety attacks and my BPD and depression made kids pick at me more because I cut and have attempted suicide. Ive tried my best to get to a goal weight of 125. I don’t believe I’ll make it. I see skinny girls on here. People I dream about looking like. I read their posts and realize that your problems wont go away once you lose a few pounds. My life has been brighter since I’ve started seeing that I am the one who judges if I’m beautiful. My boyfriend of 9 months calls me beautiful. Every time he does, he covers my moth so I cant say, “No I’m not.” or, “You’re just lying.” He’s the only one who supports me. He’s bullied for his weight and that he’s bisexual. I tell him he’s perfect to me. We hold each other up. Things are looking up. I am finally comfortable enough to wear a bikini around him and he tells me I’m beautiful just the way I am. We are all beautiful.C:
TRIGGER WARNING: self-harm/hate, suicide, bullying, abuse.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I feel so ugly. I pick at the parts of my face I hate the most, I look down at my body and question “why did I have to grow into this?” I don’t like my feet, I don’t like my nose, I don’t like my neck, I don’t like my breasts, I don’t like my bum and I don’t like my stomach.
When I was in High School my peers thought I was a boy with long hair from behind; then from the front as well when I had my hair cut short. I was bullied about how long my hair was, then how short it was. I was bullied about how long my legs were and how tall I am, about the bump in my nose, the size of my breasts, my big lips, the way I spoke, the way I wore my uniform, my puppy fat/not flat enough stomach, the way that when I looked down it looked like I had a double chin. I never tried to be what they all wanted me to be. (TRIGGER: DEPRESSION/BULLYING).But I became more and more depressed because of it. I covered my face with my hair and scarves, always walked with my head down, slouched where ever I went. My bullies would steal my bags at lunch times and hide them, so I was often late for lessons. They’d throw rubbish at me when they saw me in the halls, put gum, glue and stickers in my hair, throw stones/bricks/broken glass at me outside of school. They’d make up songs for when I got on the school bus and sing them in unison. One boy even pushed me down between the seats, piled people’s bags on top of me and stamped on my neck. If he saw me at the park with his friends he’d corner me, drag me to the floor and kick me in the stomach while calling me stupid, ugly and worthless; asking why I didn’t just kill myself and threatening to kill me. No one stopped him, they just laughed or threw things.
(TRIGGER: SELF HARM). I started self harming when I was 10. My dad had just come out of prison and I knew he wasn’t coming home. The teachers never did anything to prevent the bullying and sometimes they would demean me in front of my bullies by calling me stupid (usually for being too nervous to answer questions). I was looking forward to High School because maybe there would be more people like me, but they didn’t find me first.
(TRIGGER: SUICIDE/SEXUAL ABUSE). My school years were my worst years. After many lies, fights, fake friends and self-harming/suicide attempts I was free and I was starting college after the summer. College was amazing, the people in my course were amazing and I’ve made life-long friends, but I also made some enemies. I met the boy who stole my innocence from me while I was passed out from drinking too much. I met the boy who controlled everything I did through sick lies, guilt trips and threats of violence. I met some of the people who would stalk and harass me for months. I met the boy who made me change my physical appearance through verbal abuse. I met the man who stole my heart in one day, makes me feel incredible every day, helped me through horrible traumas, who I know is my soul mate and we will be together for the rest of our lives.
Today I still suffer with Severe Depression and Border-line Anxiety Disorder. Tomorrow I’m going to the Doctors for a review of my mental health and medication. I’m asking them to help me get Cognitive Behavioural Therapy and with that I hope is the first and best step to ending the hatred of myself. No one punishes you as much as you do.
Today I have amazing friends, an even more amazing boyfriend, a great family life and an almost fully rebuilt relationship with my dad. (We’re going to Japan this summer ^_^). I’m using my creative abilities to design and paint t-shirts and creating a portfolio of my best photography to start making postcards.
Although I still have very down days, and my depression sometimes gets the better of me, I haven’t self harmed in over 2 years and I’m slowly making my way to happiness.
Sometimes I look in the mirror and I feel so ugly. I pick at the parts of my face I hate the most, I look down at my body and question “why does the ball of my foot do that?” I don’t like my feet, I don’t like my nose. But I love my eyes, my cheeks, my legs, my hips, my arms, my hands and fingers. I love my hair, my back and my lips. I love my ears and my eyebrows. I’m learning to love my small breasts and I’m doing more exercise to tone my stomach and butt muscles. I eat healthily and rarely consume alcohol. Even though life brings the odd hick-up every now and then everything is much sweeter.
I took this picture today because I woke up feeling beautiful. And so should you.
This is me. This is my body. With its scars, blemishes, and imperfections, it is beautiful. I am beautiful. I am beautiful for everything I’ve been through. I have been bullied, I have been hated, I have been molested, I have been told that what I think doesn’t matter, I have been told that I am not enough. But I am. My body is full now; full of life and beauty and love and compassion and creativity. All the scars on my hips only prove that I am stronger than those who persecuted me. And at 120 lbs, I feel better than I ever did at 100 lbs. I have founded a group supporting positive body image, and I have touched so many lives in my short time on earth. I am a beautiful person and that’s what matters.
Apologies for the mirror shot, it was the closest to full-body I could get.
I’ve had a lot of insecurities about my body over the years, I’ve been bulimic, I’ve self-harmed, I’ve hated myself.
I always had issues with my boobs and my belly.
These days… I’m pretty okay with my boobs. They’re not perfect… they’re big, so they have stretch marks and they sure ain’t perky when I’m naked. But they’re also pretty amazing. People have been telling me this for a while, and I’m just starting to believe it. I bought my FIRST EVER PRETTY BRA the other day (I am turning 23 this year) and wore it under this white shirt as pictured… and felt excited about my pretty bra!
I also NEVER used to wear any colour other than black on top because I wanted to conceal my belly as much as possible. I still can’t wear any t-shirts other than black, or dark navy/grey. But I am starting to wear other tops such as this shirt which are not so form-clinging, in different colours. Hopefully I’ll start to feel more at ease with my body and be able to wear the light blue, red, and green t-shirts I have been dying to wear :3
I have pretty great healthy eating habits, and I’ve changed my identity from being a lazy person to a person who loves being active, so I’m hoping to lose weight and have the body I deserve. But at the same time I’m meeting myself halfway, getting more and more comfortable with who I am and knowing that if I am treating my body right and being healthy, then whatever it will look like will be what it’s SUPPOSED to look like and I will love it regardless. <3
jeherin is my main blog!
I have put my body through many different experiences throughout my life. In the past, my body has been hated, it has felt self-inflicted pain, it has been willingly starved, and it has been abused by the hands of other. My body has been many different shapes and sizes. It has grown and changed. It has changed me.
I used to hate my body. I used to abuse my body. And I used to let others abuse my body with their words, their hands, and sometimes an unwanted sexual touch. I have viewed my body as disgusting. I have also seen my body only as a vessel for other’s to relieve their sexual desires with.
I have been battling with myself for many years. The battle has been long and emotional, but it has led me to a place of peace, acceptance, and love. At the beginning of my battle, I couldn’t even fathom being in the state of mind I am in now.
I am blessed to be where I am now. I am so happy that I can look at these pictures and smile instead of cry and feel the urge to harm myself in any way. I know now that I do not have to accept the abuse others try to inflict on me. They can keep their abuse. I am in control over how I feel about myself.
This body of mine is amazing, beautiful, sexy, strong, worthy of love, and it is ME.
Namaste. :) Love yourself! It is possible if you try.