emily-arting:

Some surprise unicorns for a lovely lady on Etsy who bought my last picture {we’re doing a tlu trade} (I hope she hasn’t got tumblr so she doesn’t see this yet) I’ll be sending these off today, so I thought I would share them with you before they go~

(Deleting my captions means your gonna get blocked, sorry✌️)

pockypuck:

“It’s all right. I forgive you.”

When I was a child, I didn’t question this scene. The unicorn didn’t know what she’d done (and really, how could she), but Molly was hurting, and if she wanted to forgive her then the unicorn would give her what she needed to heal. I identified a lot with the unicorn, back then.

When I was a teenager, I remember feeling a little more indignant on the unicorn’s behalf, like Schmendrick. This is a unicorn! That she exists at all is a miracle! She didn’t even know who Molly was! How could she be expected to help some nobody, without prompting, without knowledge? Why does the unicorn need anyone to forgive her?

Now, I get it. I get Molly.

She’s not talking to the unicorn. Not really.

Life is not fair. Everyone says it, everyone knows it. And because everyone knows it, sometimes you bury it. For years, you bury the fury and sadness and broken hopes, because what else is there to do? Getting angry won’t change it. Wishing won’t change it. So you bury it, and you try to forget.

And then, when you’ve told yourself a thousand times that you accepted it, that it doesn’t bother you, that you’re okay without it, really… only then does it come around a corner, without fanfare, without reason, just standing there for you? As if it was right there all along? The dream that turns out to be real, that you might have had years and years ago, back when it could have saved you so much pain?

God, yes, you’re going to yell. And curse. And cry. People don’t tell you just how much they cry. Nobody wants you to know just how much things like this can hurt.

But it’s also your dream, and it’s here now, and you still love it. It’s not its fault. It’s not your fault. It just happened that way.

Molly isn’t really talking to the unicorn. She’s talking to a girl who swallowed her anger and sorrow so she could get on with her life. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right, but Molly knows why she did it. And it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

tarot-sybarite:

lettersfromeleanorrigby:

aria-jane-cherry:

jennikeatts:

w0rldweaver:

soloveitchik:

pbrim:

iammyfather:

nerdymouse:

lesbwian:

Shout out to all my straight sisters I’m so sorry 😞

Jesus, leave his ass.

We learn fast to be very kind and attentive, tho.

My mom, who got her degree in Marriage and Family Counseling when she was 60, says studies show that women will sometimes sometimes leave a long term relationship to live on their own for a while before seeking a new relationship, but men will almost never leave a long term relationship without having a new relationship either in progress or just beginning.  They don’t want to give up the caretaker they have without another one on deck or in the wings.

This is so sad

This isnt cute or quirky. This means hes a fucking hopeless user

Please date a man who actually acts like an adult.

Ok I lived with my ex for 2 years and he literally wouldn’t be able to get his own food if I wasn’t at home, I’d get home from work and he’d be angry at me for “making him starve”

My current partner has lived on his own for 8 years and the absolute most I have to help him with is maybe sending him $20 so he can make a bill payment on time

It made me realise for 2-4 years I wasn’t a girlfriend I was a fucking mother

Men who have been independent are capable of reverting if given the slightest excuse. When we married, my ex husband was 10 years older than me and had lived on his own for 8ish years. Yet (and I allowed this until I finally got fed up and took us to counseling) I did 80% of the cooking, because I was better at it. Same with the cleaning, shopping, social planning, etc.

After I left, in the first six months I got texts or calls asking me to please tell him:

  • The online banking password (dude, I left you, you should really change that)
  • Where I ordered his special-wecial organic underwear
  • Where the good cutting board was (my dad gave it to us at our wedding, genius, I took it with me along with the rest of the stuff from my family)
  • What brand butter we bought
  • What brand of local kielbasa we bought
  • Who his doctor was
  • What RMV office had the shortest lines
  • Where the old tax returns were (in the fucking box labeled tax returns)
  • The phone number for his best friend

I shit you not.

Then he had a heart attack (mild) and none of his family or friends were around to take him to the hospital. But instead of calling 911, he called me, who by then lived 45 minutes away. He lived 5 minutes from an EMS dispatch location. He called me, despite the fact that he didn’t believe me 8 months prior when I was feeling suicidal and I had to call a cab to go alone to check myself into the hospital for a 72-hour hold. I told him to call 911, hung up on him when he whined about “making a fuss”, called 911, called his siblings and then texted them “your brother is having a heart attack, I called 911 for him, come home,” and washed my hands of it.

Emotionally vacant men who won’t do household labor or emotional labor are not Nazis, but they aren’t good people, either, and you don’t have to put up with their shit.

Millennial women of Tumblr, please read this post.

And then please: make the decision for yourself to never stay with a man who expects you to be his mother and servant.