“
I know I’ve told this story before, but my abusive ex refused to let me take birth control. I was on the pill until he found them in my purse.
I went to the Student Health Center—they were completely unhelpful, choosing to lecture me about the importance of safe sex (recommending condoms) instead of actually listening to my problem.
Then I went to Planned Parenthood. The Nurse Practitioner took one look at my fading bruises and stopped the exam. She called in the doctor. The doctor came in and simply asked me: “Are you ready to leave him?” When I denied that I was being abused, she didn’t argue with me. She just asked me what I needed. I said I need a birth control method that my boyfriend couldn’t detect. She recommended a few options and we decided on Depo.
When I told her that my boyfriend read my emails and listened to my phone messages and was known to follow me, she suggested to do the Depo injections at off hours when the clinic was normally closed. She made a note in my chart and instructed the front desk never to leave messages for me—instead, she programmed her personal cell phone number into my phone under the name “Nora”. She told me she would call me to schedule my appointments; she wouldn’t leave a message, but I should call her back when I was able to.
And that was it. No judgment. No lecture. She walked me to the door and told me to call her day or night if I needed anything. That she lived 5 blocks from campus and would come get me. That I wasn’t alone. That she just wanted me to be safe.
I never called her to come to my rescue. But I have no doubt that she would have come if I had called. She kept me on Depo for a year, giving me those monthly injections in secret, helping me prevent a desperately unwanted pregnancy.
I cannot thank Planned Parenthood enough for the work they do.
” — Curious Georgiana (via sexistmorons)(via syzlak)
“Once a little boy sent me a charming card with a little drawing on it. I loved it. I answer all my children’s letters — sometimes very hastily — but this one I lingered over. I sent him a card and I drew a picture of a Wild Thing on it. I wrote, “Dear Jim: I loved your card.” Then I got a letter back from his mother and she said, “Jim loved your card so much he ate it.” That to me was one of the highest compliments I’ve ever received. He didn’t care that it was an original Maurice Sendak drawing or anything. He saw it, he loved it, he ate it.” —
Maurice Sendak (via happyhumanramblings)
Another staple of my childhood gone.
(via saraplainandtall)
(via yellowonesdontstop)
“It’s the oldest story in the world. One day, you’re 17 and you’re planning for someday. And then quietly, without you’re ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life.” — Nathan Scott (via blua)
(Source: magicmanula, via blua)
[video]
I found this man on 7th Avenue in Park Slope. He was leaning heavily on his cane, looking down, wearing a grimaced face. I felt bad for him, so I smiled and waved when I walked past. His face changed completely. He lit up, smiled wide, and gave me a cheery greeting. There was nothing forced about it. He seemed like a man who went through life looking for the smallest excuses to be happy.
I walked 50 feet down the sidewalk, turned around, and walked back to him. “I want to take your photo,” I told him, “because of how big you smiled when I walked by.”
He said: “Well I saw someone smiling at me who I didn’t even know. So I thought: ‘By God! I Better do something!’”
(via brookehatfield)
(via Never-before-seen photos from 100 years ago tell vivid story of gritty New York City | Mail Online)
vainglorious: Not What Loves You Back -
Amazingly and beautifully well-said.
Halfway across the Manhattan bridge, I am crying on the subway. I am texting my best friend quickly, desperate to get out the words before I reach the tunnel. I tell her I am sick to my stomach. I tell her I want to die. But let’s…
leftist-linguaphile:jpegartifacts:
1 on Flickr.
In Dr. Seuss we trust. Beautiful.
(Source: thedismembermentflan, via kelsium)
It’s International Women’s Day. Happy ceiling-shattering.
(via apsies)
Yesh.
(Source: lickystickypickywe)