I’m not worried about little girls wanting to pretend they’re princesses—after all, they’re just in it for the dress-up aspect. The princesses I’m worried about are twenty-two, thirty-two, and forty-two—women who act fragile in order to be rescued at any age. I’m not anti feminine… I don’t feel belittled pouring your drink, ironing the clothes, or walking through the door that’s held for me. But I was taught to take charge when appropriate, and to speak passionately and intelligently. I was taught to expect men to respect me for my mind and my convictions—not for my ability to stroke their fragile ego by playing helpless. I was not raised to play cute, to play dumb, or to play the part of a damsel in distress. I learned to work hard, to develop my skills, to contribute in society, so it drives me crazy when women only depend on sexuality or their fragility. I think there’s a better way. If you’re a woman who gets by with batting your eyelashes, faking incompetence, using your push-up bra, and then complain that you’re not taken seriously in your career or given responsibility in your church, I think you may have believed the reigning cultural lie about what makes us attractive. And if you’re a man and you celebrate femininity only as far as it presence itself through beauty and tenderness, please consider widening your view of what it means to be a woman. Instead, consider things like strength, intelligence, passion, and compassion. Let’s set a new example for young women who are watching us closely. Let’s teach them by example to be women who work hard, who pay attention to their dreams, who give themselves to making the world a better place.
— "Bittersweet" by Shauna Niequist (via yesdarlingido)
I’ve found that growing up means being honest. About what I want. What I need. What I feel. Who I am.
There are friendships I’ve mourned over where too much history got in the way. There were too many harsh words and broken promises and silent disagreements, and it rotted to an impatient grave. But there are others where we traveled the jagged road of reconciliation, mending wounds and untying knots and covering with grace: and on the other end of this is an ocean-deep intimacy of perseverance that couldn’t be reached any other way. We had to wrestle with the ugly parts of our nature. Demons were exposed. Secrets were spilled. Yet there is a joy in this sort of enduring friendship that goes the long distance; there’s a crazy sort of laughter with a lifelong friend that is colored by the weight of heels digging into the ground, a love that says, ‘I’m staying.’ We see it in the cross, and we can have it now, even in a world such as this.
my picture of a perfect marriage.
via Daily Odd Compliment.
2. Make sure he has scars on the back of his hands, it’s a good sign he has experience either fighting or making things - creation is an act of selflessness and bruised knuckles are a good sign he knows how to defend himself. You’ve got too much soul to be handled by someone who has never been passionate. If he’s never thrown a punch, let him at least have tasted the insanity of bringing an idea into existence. Rough palms are better than soft ones, they have been salted by this earth and made into leather. Callouses are evidence he has lived, that he has broken skin and been in pain over and over and over again and still came back to the source of it. People rub against each other. Don’t marry him if he can’t handle even a little blister.