R U STILL DOWN?

when you are alone and all by yourself, like my summer nights in a shell

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yolesoteldo:


Dear Cutie-Pie,
Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”
It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.
And I got angry.
Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”
Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)
If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.
Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be keptinterested, because he knows you are interesting:
I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.
I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.
I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.
I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.
I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.
I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.
I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.
In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:
You.
Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.
Your eternally interested guy,
Daddy
————————————————————————————————————————- 
This post is, of course, dedicated to my daughter, my Cutie-Pie. But I also want to dedicate it beyond her.
I wrote it for my wife, who has courageously held on to her sense of worth and has always held me accountable to being that kind of “boy.”
I wrote it for every grown woman I have met inside and outside of my therapy office—the women who have never known this voice of a Daddy.
And I wrote it for the generation of boys-becoming-men who need to be reminded of what is really important—my little girl finding a loving, lifelong companion is dependent upon at least one of you figuring this out. I’m praying for you.
— Dr. Kelly Flanagan
—————————————————————————————————————————
Happy International Women’s Day

yolesoteldo:

Dear Cutie-Pie,

Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”

It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.

And I got angry.

Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”

Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)

If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.

Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be keptinterested, because he knows you are interesting:

I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.

I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.

I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.

I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.

I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.

I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.

I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.

In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:

You.

Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.

Your eternally interested guy,

Daddy

————————————————————————————————————————-

This post is, of course, dedicated to my daughter, my Cutie-Pie. But I also want to dedicate it beyond her.

I wrote it for my wife, who has courageously held on to her sense of worth and has always held me accountable to being that kind of “boy.”

I wrote it for every grown woman I have met inside and outside of my therapy office—the women who have never known this voice of a Daddy.

And I wrote it for the generation of boys-becoming-men who need to be reminded of what is really important—my little girl finding a loving, lifelong companion is dependent upon at least one of you figuring this out. I’m praying for you.

— Dr. Kelly Flanagan

—————————————————————————————————————————

Happy International Women’s Day

(via gurl)

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Just like a capital city

My mama is a city girl, she grew up with allots of movement around her.

I’m a town child as well.

I grew up eating breakfast at 7-eleven because a hot cocoa and a croissant was the easiest way to feed me and my brother.

I got a cell phone when I was eight just so my parents could call me cause the got an divorce.

I got myself a a shoulder bag just like my other friends at nine, because I didn’t hit people in the crowd like with a back pack.

At ten I learned how to make my homework, standing, in the tram.

At eleven I stopped crying when dad was late to pick me up, I knew it was all traffic.

At twelve I knew all the lies to tell my teacher about why I was late in the morning.

Thirteen years old and me and my friends discovered how to be at the library was something good and calm, but also a good excuse to be with your friends. Not making your homework.

My fourteen was all about changing, I started drinking coffee. ( I’m that dramatic) Me and my friends got a favorite place to eat while skipping school.

15 y/o and things got loud, degrees and tears. The world screaming that without school your n o t h i n g. Getting strong mentally, waking up from a bubble gum world.

When I was sixteen people looked at my smile and thought: how long she’ll keep that up. I was a new in high-school, a stupid one.

Seventeen was heavy I dare say, watching the world trough a ladies eye. It wasn’t a nice way of seeing the city. I saw the city darker even with daylight. It was dirty even without the combustion gases.

Authority, finally 18. Adult on papers. Let me fill that in next year.

Living in the city makes you a multitasked, it makes you see a bit more of your bubble. Living in the city makes time so precious. Makes money important, makes shoes and cars something to achieve. Can make you: greedy, lazy and cocky.

XOXO bored

Filed under citychild city gothenburg citykid story of my life

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Dear 10 year old you

I suppose this is for everyone that is 10 years old.

I am guessing you are having so much fun. The only one you are fighting with is mom and dad when you want to stay up late. Or your friends when they aren’t sharing the candy equally. You cry because you didn’t get the game you wanted as a gift from your uncle. You are yelling because your sister is turning the light off when you want to read. You are worried because maybe the money you got won’t be enough for the things you are about to buy. You feel alone because no one stood outside the restroom when you came out. Honey, enjoy it. Because in a few years from now you are going to fight with everybody that doesn’t approve you. You are going to cry because you feel worthless. You are going to yell because no one hears you when you talk. You are going to be worried because you feel that you are not enough. You are going to feel alone because you don’t have anybody that gets you.

Life is wonderful, but make sure you know all this. Make sure you know that it has to rain after the sun. But also that after the rain it’ll come sunshine.

Filed under 10yeaold kids teenagers lettertooakid childhood

0 notes

Brother and sister.

Togheter we’ll make it thru.
Someday our spirit will take you and guide you there. 
I know.
You’ve been hurt. 
But I.
Been waiting to be there for you.
And I’ll be here, to help you out.
Whenever I can.

Brother and sister.

Togheter we’ll make it thru.
Someday our spirit will take you and guide you there.
I know.
You’ve been hurt.
But I.
Been waiting to be there for you.
And I’ll be here, to help you out.
Whenever I can.