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Tag: emotions

  • Brilliant Words From A School Principal

    Brilliant words from a School Principal I can’t love it enough.

    COVID-19 Kids – what if?
    When people say kids are going to be ‘behind’ I say, behind what?? Not each other- they’re all in the same boat. Only ‘behind’ the age expectations of a curriculum that currently has limited context due to these extraordinary circumstances. In front on so many other more important fronts I say.

    What if instead of “behind” this group of kids is advanced because of this.
    What if they have more empathy, they enjoy family connection, they can be more creative and entertain themselves, they love to read, they love to express themselves in writing.

    What if they enjoy the simple things, like their own backyard and sitting near a window in the quiet?
    What if they notice the birds and the dates the different flowers emerge, and the calming renewal of a gentle rain shower?

    What if this generation is the one to learn to cook, organize their space, do their laundry, and keep a well-run home?
    What if they learn to stretch a dollar and to live with less?
    What if they learn to plan shopping trips and meals at home?
    What if they learn the value of eating together as a family and finding the good to share in the small delights of the everyday?

    What if they are the ones to place great value on our teachers and educational professionals, librarians, public servants and the previously invisible essential support workers like truck drivers, grocers, cashiers, custodians, logistics, and health care workers and their supporting staff, just to name a few of the millions taking care of us right now while we are sheltered in place?

    What if among these children, a great leader emerges who had the benefit of a slower pace and a simpler life, who has a fine sense of empathy and care and concern for fellow humans.

    What if he or she truly learns what really matters in all this…

  • I Am A Woman Who Feels Sexiest When I Bleed

    Maybe I am alone in this, and maybe not. Either way, I claim it now as my truth…

    I am a woman who feels sexiest when I bleed.

    I feel sexiest as I sit bare-assed on my throne with a purple towel under my hips to catch my free flow during those first two days when my body rejects anything inside of me, and clothing seems like such a waste of good blood and laundry detergent.

    I feel sexiest when I see the blood smeared across my inner thighs, painting the most tender and receptive channels of my body with the nourishment that is mine alone to share as I so choose.

    I feel sexiest when I dance naked out under the dark moon, spiraling round with blood on my forehead and trailing down my legs to mark the grass with crimson tracks of where I’ve been as I sing songs of where I’m going.

    I feel sexiest when the children ask me what’s in the jar of red liquid sitting on the bathroom counter, and I tell them it’s my yoni blood, the juice that flows from my body each month to help me shed layers of what’s no longer needed so I can share that gift in holy communion with the Earth and my favorite houseplants.

    I feel sexiest when my stomach is bloated and distended, shattering all of society’s illusions of what feminininity is meant to look like and crafting the knowledge of what true Goddess is based off my own reflection.

    I feel sexiest when I self-pleasure to relieve my menstrual cramps, again and again until the pain turns to pleasure and I remember why my spirit agreed to come into this body, custom designed for my mission to come home to myself as magic and remind others they can do the same.

    I feel sexiest when I let my emotions flow as freely as my blood, my body grieving the loss of the life not yet to birth so that my attention and energy can be directed in fullness towards the mysteries I hold within, awaiting their time to come through. Blood mingled with tears, iron and salt, grieving the deepest aspects of my core wounds, my ancestors’ core wounds, humanity’s core wounds, the Earth’s core wounds, releasing any sense of separation, of defining what’s mine and what’s their’s, so that what needs to be felt, acknowledged, integrated, and released can find its healing through me.

    Because I can.

    And I do.

    And that, I feel, is pretty fucking sexy.

    Not alone. Never alone.

    💗🌋🌹

    #bloodlove #bloodmagic #bloodmysteries

    Credit https://www.facebook.com/hmborababy

     

  • No One Told Me I Would Spend Hours Crying

    This was 2 days after I gave birth to Layla. Eating my “nice meal” provided by the hospital. An over cooked steak and sides. I was in new territory.

    .

    Learning to breastfeed this little human being that I just brought into the world. Wearing these big mesh panties, still sporting a pregnant belly.. no one told me your belly doesn’t go down immediately. No one told me I’d be bleeding out.

    .

    No one told me that I would spend hours crying and full of emotion. I remember just laying there in the hospital bed crying. I was crying because my babygirl was finally here.. FINALLY! But wait.. that means she isn’t protected inside of me anymore. And that’s a scary feeling.

    .

    At what point, I think Kevin was at a loss. I realized that when I was being held by him in the hospitals shower and I was just crying uncontrollably. It’s all a blur but I do remember saying “she’s not safe inside of me anymore” and that was a really hard thing to work through.

    .

    I was also in so much pain.. no one tells you that typically with a “quick delivery” comes a bad rip. I ripped all the way up and down, and also side to side. The weeks following I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t use the bathroom. I wore these big depends diapers. I never thought I would be normal again. Kevin had to help me do EVERYTHING from pee, to walk up stairs.

    .

    Being a mom is the ultimate sacrifice. You give up your body for 9 months to grow this little baby. You go through labor and delivery. You go through the emotions that come with childbirth.

    .

    You let go of all shame as you walk around your house in diapers and ask your SO to spray warm water on your rip while you pee to avoid that burn.

    .

    You spend tireless hours latching your baby and feeding your baby to establish and keep up your milk supply because you want to breast feed so. damn. bad. You remain patient through leaps, growth spurts, and cluster feeding.

    .

    Don’t ever discredit a mother. You don’t know the half.

    .

    I used to be Autumn. Fun loving, crazy, outgoing Autumn. But now I’m Layla’s mama. And I’m okay with that. ✨ (Via Autumn Benjamin and @scarymommy)

  • We Teach Kids Not To Show Emotions

    Perhaps the reason teens isolate themselves when they’re overwhelmed instead of coming to us with their problems, is because when they’re toddlers we isolate them when they’re overwhelmed instead of helping them with their problems.

    When our kids are small and trying to manage emotions – they can’t express what they are feeling. They throw tantrums, they throw things, they have meltdowns, they scream and they whine. This is their way of communicating with us. They need help to organize, process and express their feelings in a healthy way. And society tells us we should punish them for this. Send them to their room, put them in timeout, spank them.

    We teach them and train them not to show their emotions. Don’t whine. Don’t complain. Your feelings are wrong. Be quiet. Eventually they stop expressing their emotions to us because we told them over and over again we didn’t want to hear it. For so long they needed to deal with it alone. Alone in their room, their chair, their corner.

    And then they turn into teenagers and we expect them to feel safe talking to us. We expect them to know that NOW it’s okay. They are subconsciously wired to think the opposite because this is what they grew up learning.

    Give your child permission to feel. Let them know their feelings are valid and that you care, no matter how small. Make sure they know that they are heard.

    Pretty soon meltdowns over crayons will turn into breakups, heartbreak, sex, or even depression. You want your child to know that you will always hear them, no matter how small. You are their safe space.

    Laura Muhl

  • Stop Using Kids As Weapons and Let Us Men Be Men

    Can’t help but notice a lot of women commenting on male suicide. So here’s my two pence, stop using your kids as weapons stop going out getting on the gear and whoring yourself out and then say we are not fit to be parents.

    Stop trying to make out that being a red blooded male is a bad thing after all without these traits the human race wouldn’t exist, stop trying to feminize us, or making us feel bad for being us.

    Stop being cheating lying gold diggers. Women have the power to completely destroy our hearts minds and souls but also heal all wounds and comfort us in our darkest times.

    It has never been harder to be a man in this strange modern world. Everyone should be able to be who they are if they are a red blooded male that’s fine if they are kind and caring that’s fine if they are more feminim than masculine that’s fine everybody should just be them and not try to live up to what tv media and women tell you how you should be.

    What the hell do you want us men to do? No matter how we act we are wrong, want us to be in our kids lives stop making it so hard for us to do so, want us to change do ya? Why? when you met us we were fine but now you wanna throw in new rules, new goal posts and then seem surprised when we walk away.

    Let us men be men, let us be who we are, shut up with your emotions and neediness

    Credit Darren Purslow

  • I Didn’t Feel As If I Deserved To Cry

    “I had to pee so badly but they wouldn’t let me go. They said I needed a full bladder because it’s easier to see the baby during the ultrasound. I remember feeling so frustrated not only because of my full bladder, but because I had to fill out what seemed like 50 pages of paperwork before I could empty my bladder and see the baby I’d been waiting to see for 8 weeks.

    I finally was walked to the back room where I was greeted with a smile from everyone because the happiness from carrying a baby was contagious. The ultrasound began and I saw the images right in front of me. My heart was beating out of my chest. This was exciting!

    This was a day my husband and I had been waiting for, for over a year.

    But these images were different than the ones I’ve seen on Facebook that all my girlfriends had posted, something was wrong.

    I saw nothing because my body was just hours away from miscarrying.

    My ultrasound tech was quiet and I just knew. She left the room and my husband quickly assured me that “everything is fine.” But don’t tell that to a girl who has seen hundreds of ultrasound photos, who has searched Instagram for the hashtag “8weeks” to see what her baby now looked like.

    I knew it wasn’t right and it wasn’t.

    I remember being afraid to cry. I didn’t feel as if I deserved to cry because “I wasn’t that far along,” and “this happens all the time.”

    I remember holding back the tears with every ounce of my being and not being able to look my husband in the face because I knew his pain would break me.

    I was sent home to let my body naturally run its course and it did. I felt everything but had nothing to show for it. My doctor didn’t let me leave without warning and she was right about everything. But what she didn’t warn me about was everything that would happen after the initial heartbreak and pain.

    She didn’t tell me I was going to be reminded for weeks to come because my body was going to take that long to “clean out.” She didn’t tell me I was going to have to watch my husband weep. She didn’t tell me how hard it was going to be to tell my mom what had happened. She didn’t tell me that my body was going to continue thinking it was pregnant for weeks to come. She didn’t tell me how hard it was going be to tell people I was fine when I wasn’t. She didn’t tell me that this was going to make me a jealous person over-night. She didn’t tell me how much harder the question “when are you having kids?” was going to be. And she didn’t tell me that it was going to be so hard losing someone I had never met.

    But she did tell me it was okay to cry and she did tell me that I wasn’t alone.

    Miscarriages are SO real and so common, in fact, one out of four women experience a miscarriage; but don’t let that confuse you into thinking it hurts any less. As large as this statistic is, I still felt alone and I have finally figured out why: because no one talks about it.

    It wasn’t until I started talking about it to my friends and family that I slowly realized I wasn’t alone. That my mom, my aunt, my sister, my sisters best friend all have experienced this heartbreak and pain, a heartbreak and pain I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy.

    People may wonder why I choose to talk about this after months have passed, but it’s the harsh reality that time really doesn’t heal all wounds so I am hoping sharing my story will help with the healing process. I am not looking for pity and I am not looking for answers. I am sharing this so that maybe one less woman will feel alone and use this as a reminder or message that there is hope after this heartbreak.

    This is my hope for you…

    I hope that you won’t feel alone.

    I hope that you let yourself cry.

    I hope that you will see the light at the end of the tunnel.

    I hope that though your faith will be tested, you will be strong.

    I hope you find peace.

    I hope you won’t be afraid to try again.

    I hope that you don’t blame yourself.

    I hope that your friends hug you a little tighter.

    I hope that you give someone else hope through your hardship

    I hope that you are a light in the darkest of time.

    …and I hope that you celebrate that baby’s life as much as you celebrate the next because no matter how short a life, all life deserves to be celebrated and all loss should be mourned.

    Feel free to share if this spoke to you or you feel as if it might speak to someone you know.”

    Credit: Emily Christine

     

  • So Many Emotions In One Picture

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    dailyhaha funny pictures

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