Imagine it’s Sunday morning, your perfect boyfriend just woke up in the comfy apartment you own together in Manhattan, NYC. You were just making some breakfast when you see him stirring in the bed, and snap a quick picture before he turns at the noise of your camera and smiles at you. He rushes down to wrap you in a big, warm hug and begins to make some coffee.
Reality it’s a Friday night, your perfect piece of pizza just got taken out of the oven. You were just making it for yourself because you’re alone with no body to eat it with. You take a photo of your pizza quickly before it looks up at the noise of your camera, it steams at you. You rush to your room and wrap your hands around the big, warm slice of pizza and you blog until 4am.
I absolutely hate this kind of so-called “love your body” discourse. What if a month of fake tanning and another tube of lipstick is my way of loving my body? Seriously, I’d go for a set of acrylic nails over a day at an amusement park any time because I so happen to hate amusement parks. Call me superficial, I don’t fucking care.
So fed up with the idea that somehow loving beauty products is hating your body because surely you must be an insecure hot mess and a victim of the unrealistic standards propagated by beauty magazines. Ugh.
Loving your body is different for everyone.
1. There will be several days that you daydream about stepping in front of a city bus. Don’t. It will not be beautiful. It will not be brave. It will be selfish. It will be broken. Your mother will cry.
2. Don’t write for him. Write for you. Write for others like you. Write so the girl that thinks about stepping in front of public transportation doesn’t. Don’t be selfish.
3. When you will yourself to sleep and it doesn’t come- get up. It doesn’t matter that it’s 3 am. There will be other 3 am’s. Take a shower. Take two. Wash him out of your hair. Write a poem. Read the same book you’ve read 202 times again. The 203rd time might tell you something different. Don’t stay in bed- you will think about the bus again.
4. Don’t kiss him because he’s broken. Don’t kiss him because his laughter never reaches his eyes. Don’t try and fix him. Fix yourself first. Be selfish. He can’t save you.
5. Date yourself. Take yourself out to eat. Don’t share your popcorn at the movies with anyone. Stroll around an art museum alone. Fall in love with canvases. Fall in love with yourself.
6. Dress up and wear red lipstick and get drunk with your friends. They’re the ones that will pick you up. Don’t kiss him. Or him. Don’t fall asleep on strange couches with strange boys. When his hand slides up your dress walk away. Hit him. Don’t kiss him. He can’t save you.
7. Get another tattoo. Get five more. Get another hole in your ear. Don’t listen to your dad. You will still be able to get a job. Did you really want to be employed by someone like your father? Haven’t you had enough of judgmental old white men anyway? Get fuck you tattooed in tiny letters on your hip.
8. When you feel the yearning for a new city- start over. Take 200 bucks and a three suitcases. Work anywhere that will have you. Meet strange people and forget your name. Call yourself Ruby. No one will know the difference. Remember to call your mother. Don’t be selfish. Come home when you find yourself in the strangers and the small one bedroom apartment.
9. Don’t whisper evil things into your own ear. Other people are going to shout them at you. Be your own hero. Keep a sword on your key ring.
10. Don’t step in front of a city bus. It will not be beautiful. Live. Stay up all night with a boy that promises you everything and means it. Live. See shitty local bands with a friend. Wear a different band’s t-shirt. No one will care. Live. Have a baby girl with tiny fingers and tiny toes someday. Pour love into her until it’s overflowing. Live. Wake up. Staying in bed all day is not poetic.
Do you hear that? It’s me. It’s your life. Wake up."
"It’s hard to leave pieces of your heart lying on the ground of city streets 3000 miles away. But it’s beautiful. We weren’t meant to come back with a fluffy conscience and a clear head. My heart aches for old memories. I miss old friends. And I always will. There’s no getting over it. But that’s what happens when you live with heart open and palms up. My heart didn’t get taken. I went with it open. It hurt then because I knew it wasn’t forever – and it hurts now because the times are behind me. But in the emptiness there is love. Parts of myself are gone. They belong to people and places far away, and that’s where they’ll stay. And if you want to have adventures, you have to be OK with that. You have to know from the start that the thing is going to change you – and then you have to let it. And then when it’s time to go home, you have to really go home."
How To Come Home, Thought Catalog
yay, i did it! this song has been on my mind for almost a year now, so i just went for it. or i went for one verse and chorus in any case. not really all that suited for my voice, but what the heck.
hope you enjoy my a cappella try at frank ocean’s thinkin bout you :)
You guys, listen to this and try telling me my friends aren’t talented as hell. This is the lovely Sarah singing one of my favorite songs ever. I just fell more in love with her voice than I already was before.