This is my son, Chester, who is nearly 4. He was invited to his friend Chloe’s birthday party today, the theme was prince and princesses. He asked if he could go as Sleeping Beauty, so I bought him a dress and put a cute little clip in his hair.
We arrived at the party to the following comments from the adults present:
“Oh that is just cruel.”
"Why did you make him wear a dress?"
"Poor little man, what’s your mummy playing at?"
"He’s going to hate you when he grows up."
"No way I’d let my son dress like a girl."
The fact is, Chester is almost completely gender neutral. I let him wear what he wants, be it boys or girls clothes, and he plays with whatever toys he likes. This usually involves him holding tea parties while wearing his pink Minnie Mouse top, jeans and a tiara. The guests are more often than not a mixture of Winnie The Pooh characters, dinosaurs, Barbie, Dora and solders, and they’re usually transported in his favorite fire engine.
When my husband arrived at the party later on, he was subjected to endless ridicule from the other dad’s present about how I must keep his balls in my back pocket because otherwise he would have put his foot down and not allowed Chester out like that. Oh, and by the way, our other son dressed as Ariel. When my husband pointed out that the boys were happy, and the mother of the birthday child made a point of saying how wonderful she thought it was that we allowed them freedom of choice and expression, they then stopped talking about it to our faces and started muttering about us behind our backs.
Interestingly enough, not a single child said a word about their choice of costumes, other than to compliment Chester on his new dress.
I have a real issue with anyone trying to protect children from their own imaginations. If we cannot acknowledge that a lot of us have a bit of darkness within ourselves, some more than others perhaps, and bring it into the light and examine it and talk about this part of the human condition, then I think we will be living in quite a dangerous climate. I think that’s much more damaging for children.
for twenty-year-olds who have never been loved
All of a sudden two decades have passed and you still have not kissed anyone with tongue, or kissed anyone at all for that matter, or had a 3 AM conversation with someone who would rather look into your eyes for ten minutes straight than talk. You have never worn a…
Leslie Morgan Steiner was in an abusive relationship, though at first she didn’t realize it. In a talk at TEDxRainier, she tells the disturbing story of her relationship, correcting misconceptions many people hold about victims of domestic violence, and explaining how we can all help break the silence.
If you or someone you know is facing domestic violence or an absuive relationship, you can find a list of resources here. The U.S. National Sexual Assault Hotline is 1-800-656-4673 (HOPE), and RAINN offers a secure online hotline.
When people are abused and assaulted, it is like the doors to their souls slam shut. The goal of Joyful Heart is to let the light, and the life, back in—to banish the darkness and let the healing begin.
- Mariska Hargitay, Founder & President of the Joyful Heart Foundation
- See more at: http://joyfulheartfoundation.org/
mariska hargitays been my bitch from the jump i love her and i will always love herOlivia Forever
Joan Crawford’s famous Charleston kick as captured in the year 1926.
Joan came to Hollywood in 1925 as a hard-knock Broadway chorus girl without censorship. She was a mascot of such favorite venues as the Cocoanut Grove and the Montmartre, where she would easily devastate her competition in countless Charleston contests. She collected more champion trophies than she knew what to do with.
Her vigorous Charleston became legendary as astonishingly early as 1930. When the age of the flapper buckled to patronizing reconsideration, Joan and her verve remained substantial in the nostalgia for a lost era. “Remember when Joan Crawford was a ‘hotcha’ baby tearing up the floor at the Grove?” sighed fan magazines, newspaper columnists, writers, actors, directors, producers, crew members, and wistful fellow Jazz Age symbols.
A rare exception in the Hollywood practice of impermanence, the memory of Joan as scalding “hey-hey” flapper of the Roaring Twenties never disappeared from the foreground. The beloved Crawford Charleston—breathless, stomping, panting, kicking, sweating, grinning, electrifying—has endured the restless American cultures of nearly nine decades. To this day it continues as an indestructible icon belling the legend of 1920s youth.
okay woWIE YOU GUYS REALLY NEED TO WATCH THIS BECAUSE PANTENE DID A COMMERCIAL ABOUT HOW SHIT LABELS AGAINST WOMEN ARE AND ITS JUST SO GREAT WOWIE
i’ve been on the phone with my mom so long i’ve given up holding it
SHE SAW THIS PICTURE AND NOW SHE’S MADE AT ME OHMYGOD
We’re all made at you.
SHIT I CAN EVEN FUCKING SPELL NO WONDER MY MOM IS ALWAYS ANGRY AT ME