This was written by a little 6 year old girl. I babysit her and her two sisters - Rebecca and Mia, and before they go to bed they all sit down and write little prayers to God.
This was the one that Hollie wrote last time, and it absolutely broke my heart. I mean, she’s six years old and she thinks she’s not beautiful. That’s not right. But she is beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. She’s got golden blonde hair, bright green eyes and a smile so beautiful that you melt a little inside when you see it.
When their mum got home, I showed her Hollie’s prayer, and she was devestated. She’s a nurse so she’s seen a lot of horrible things, but I have never seen her like that. And so I had to do something.
If you’re reading this, and if you have the slightest bit of a heart, please reblog this, so that I can prove to Hollie that she is beautiful, and that she is so special, and that God made her exactly the way she is because He knows that He made her perfect. Please give this beautiful little girl the confidence she deserves.
this made me cry. i don’t really care that i’m a strict 1d blog. everyone needs to reblog.
this picture broke my heart. everybody should have this at least once on their blog
My stepdad used to hit us and tell us he was gonna murder us and my mum excused him saying he was just “anxious” and that it was a mental illness and that it was fine.
He wasn’t anxious and he never had anything related to anxiety, he was aggressive, not anxious and what he was is an addict to prescription drugs, that’s why he got anxious after many hours of not taking them.
So if you ever fucking use a mental illness as a way of getting away with what you want, I swear to god I’ll find out where you live and I’ll fucking murder you cause I’ve been depressed and god knows how many times I doubted I really was because people keep making up they have them just to look “cool” or whatever so people who really have them get so scared of being just attention whores or drama queens that they can’t even speak about it without feeling like it’s their fault or that it’s not important when it fucking is important.
Don’t you ever say you’re depressed if you’ve had a bad week or a bad day, don’t you ever say you are anxious because you have a hard time doing presentations in public or giving up smoking, don’t you ever say you are anorexic because you skipped a meal because you want to get on diet to fit your new dress, don’t you say you are bulimic because you ate too much the other day and ended up with an indigestion puking. Don’t you ever do that.
Get help if you are feeling sad and you can’t enjoy anything (even if only three weeks have passed since you realized, it’s better to get help soon), get help if you can’t be in a crowd without feeling a pressure in your chest and your whole body is screaming to get out of there, get help if you feel gross while eating and you can’t stop thinking of how fat you are getting or if you skip meals everyday, get help if it you thought puking the food to get thin wasn’t as a bad thing as people said and now it’s hard not to, get help if you have doubts, it’s always better to get help and realize you are fine and don’t need it than needing it and not getting it cause some people have it worse. Period.
I have this friend who is gay.
His parents don’t know,
his friends couldn’t understand,
but he is and he is happy about that.
This friend is gay and in love.
His parents suspect it,
they don’t want to hear about it,
but he is and he is happy about that.
This friend is gay and in a distance relationship.
His parents blame him,
they don’t allow their son to see his boyfriend
when he spends 8 hours in a plane
just to come to a town in the middle of nowhere
to find the guy he really loves.
I have this friend who is a person,
and is gay, and is in love,
and is in a distance relationship,
but, over all the rest, he is a human being,
and he suffers, he loves and he is himself,
but the world doesn’t want to hear that,
his parents want him to be happy,
but no, not like that.
Hahaha, thanks, you’re all that too :3
Have a nice day :)
Send a message to the moon,
but don’t expect it to reply.
Send a message to the moon
when life seems too dark
and you just want to die.
Send a dark thought to the air,
the stars will hold it for you,
it won’t come back soon
if you just allow it to stay there.
Send a message to the moon,
let every wound bleed tonight
and heal them with your tears,
for once, let it win this fight,
leave the door open for it,
but close it as it goes out
to breath some fresh air.
Some have made me hot,
a few have made me warm,
but you are the only one
that can do both at a time:
make me feel safe, protected, warm;
make me feel powerful, beautiful, hot.
You make me feel
like if I could be brighter than the sun
and darker than your thoughts,
like the world seemed small
if people compared it to my fingertips.
You are a drop of rain in summer,
you are the small sigh between kisses.
You are what makes something good
just impossible to forget.
You are that wild but sweet nature
which lives in all of us,
I just wish you could see…
You aren’t dark, you are my sun,
you aren’t a mess, you are just alive,
you are unique and memorable.
Just hold my hand, hold me,
keep me close to your heart
and I’ll whisper to it
what your head should know.
I sometimes think
you could really mean it,
when you smile at me
or cry because you miss me.
You think you do,
but you don’t.
You just miss having someone
that loves you by everything you are,
you just miss an image
you have created in your own mind.
I know it when you make up excuses
when you tell me you’ll always be there,
and then you never are.
I know it the few times you hug me
or the few times you smile at me,
you don’t do it any differently
of how you do it to those you hate.
You do it to please me,
to keep me as your emotional slave,
you do it to have someone,
you do it to pretend you love me,
and you truly love our time together,
you just don’t care about me.
People would probably say
we should both know that by now
and stop pretending.
You don’t get how it is
when the happiness is gone,
seems like a weird dream
and all you can ever do
is try to hold on.
Hold on to what?
Keep walking to a cliff?
What’s the point?
What’s supposed to make me believe?
Fake kisses and fake hugs,
fake love made of fake happiness
made of fake smiles
that are sharper than spikes.
You seem to be a murderer
stabbing me with each one of them,
you know it’s fake,
I know it’s fake.
Shut that mouth up,
let me breath.
I am drowning too fast,
I’ve swum too deep.