Once there was a girl...

And this is why I’ll never respect the man again. And I hate his new album. And I hate everything behind his new single. And this comes from someone who followed his career from his coffee shop days and followed him on tour while celebrating his success, but this is not the artist or the man I ever envisioned him to be. 

All these people swoon over him and his music without knowing the back story and it makes my stomach turn in knots. I used to believe singers and the inspiration for their songs, but now, I wonder if we’ve all been fleeced for decades… eew.

At least I know TP’s new album is from the heart, she’s transparent, and she’s honest about where she’s been and who she is now… 

Tristan Prettyman’s response to this

icecreamisbetterwithafork:

Hey, how bout the time you told me that you were clearing all the room mates out of your house, and creating a space to make room for family and that “next phase” in your life? 

And then hey, how bout that time you designed a beautiful engagement ring, asked my parents for their permission, and proposed to me…

And then how bout that time you pulled me aside after we walked off the red carpet, at the AFER Elton John event, one month after getting engaged, and explained to me that the press asked you a questions about that time a year ago when you said you weren’t going to get married until there was equality for all.

And in the moment, all you could think to do was re-affirm to them that, that was still the case. 

Hey how bout COMMUNICATING?

I supported your decision in that moment, and did not miss a beat, to stand by my man.  But after a while, when things started falling apart. It was not because I didn’t believe in equal rights, or because I wasn’t a big enough advocate for a number of causes. 

Take some responsibility. I ALWAYS communicated my desire for kids and family. No one forced you to propose. 

Have some respect. 

TP

***AND FOR THE RECORD: I DO SUPPORT MARRIAGE EQUALITY. EVERYONE DESERVES TO LOVE AND BE LOVED, IN WHATEVER, WHICHEVER WAY THEIR HEART DESIRES. 

All of this. Yes.

thatkindofwoman:

I am round where others are flat, flat where others are round. 
I have rough skin on the bottoms of my feet, soft skin on the backs of my knees.
I have freckles, marks, scars and bruises. I breath deep gulps of air. 
I am not like anyone before or anyone who is to come, other than our ends.
I have no reason to compare myself to others.
Not the rounding of my thighs, or the set of my eyes. 
Not my train of thought, nor the way my hands flutter through the air when I talk. 
These are possessions that are unconditionally mine.
I didn’t have to pay for them, I didn’t have to bargain, haggle and scrimp for them.
I didn’t have to pine after them on the pages of magazines. 
Nor desire them from the pages of books. 
My eyes do not see them elsewhere.
I do somethings better than others, I do many things worse than others.
I need not compare my talents to others. 
I need not compare accomplishments or failures of  others to my accomplishments and failures.
So, my curves, my imperfections, are not imperfect. 
I am perfect. I am a perfect me. 
Me. 
Selfish, perhaps. 
However, I have to repeat these words each time I feel the doubt and fear creeping in. 
I am a perfect me.  

You. 
Reading this right now, you are the perfect you.
The set of your eyes, the hitch of your stride.
The scars you have or don’t have.
You are the perfect you. 
Relish in your perfection, often. 
Praise your perfection. 
Worship your soft, your rough.
The curve, the hollow, the point, the flat.  
Let’s agree you are perfect, I am perfect.
Live in your perfection. 
Stop comparisons. 
Start self praise. 

I am a perfect me.