I may not be as impressive as the other wonderful women in this post, but I still have some muscle!
I reblogged this post yesterday or the day before thinking something along the lines of “wow these women are so gorgeous and ripped and I wish my muscles were that big but since then these pictures came into existence
and like maybe this post is EXACTLY where I belong.
Look at these strong ass women!
My poor gay heart can’t handle this. I am smol, throw me over your shoulder and carry me to Valhalla.
I’ve never seen women like me represented before!! This is me!
AHHH YOUR MUSCLES ARE SO NICE
I AM SO HERE FOR THIS
100% here for this holy shit you are all ass-kickingly gorgeous
Being trans and shying away from working out because “muscles aren’t feminine” despite enjoying it this means a lot to me
GORGEOUS BUFF LADIES YAAAASSSSSS
GORGEOUS
this is still one of my favorite posts ive ever made. if this is what im know for on tumblr im happy
When I saw this post on my dash, it kept disappearing every time the site finished loading. It had nothing to do with my blacklist extension, all evidence of this post on my dash vanished. I had to go to the blog of the person I’m reblogging it from DIRECTLY.
If you can see this post at all, even if it’s for a split second, try and like it and reblog it! Don’t let this post be hidden!
Having a disability or a chronic illness, whether it’s physical or mental, sucks rocks sometimes. And that’s okay.
It’s okay to say “this fucking sucks”
It’s okay to say “I hate this”
It’s okay to think negatively, to have a bad day. Nobody can be positive 24/7
You have the right to be angry, or frustrated, or sad. That doesn’t mean you are dealing with things badly, that doesn’t mean you have been set back, that doesn’t make you a bad person.
You are allowed to complain about things that make your life difficult.
And doing this is not being “anti recovery” or “romanticizing” your illness. Complaining doesn’t mean you’re wallowing in your illness or not trying hard enough to get better. It just means it’s hard sometimes, and that’s okay.
It’s so hard to wrap my mind around the fact that some people can just wear scratchy/itchy/uncomfortable clothes and still go about their day normally without constantly feeling like ripping all their skin off
People always ask if your trauma changed you but I was young, I don’t know who I was before my trauma. I don’t know who I would’ve been without it and I never will know.
All i know of myself is the shut downs when some one raises their voice. The anxiety and stress associated with basic physical contact. The fear of pain everytime I even hold hands with anyone.
ImmortalWave 