EMO: Confessions of a slut

“You could make grown men gasp when you'd go walking past them”

- Garbage

I don't want to live on this planet anymore

People, the world is in the slut shaming business. And frankly, I don't care for it. I try to fight for causes that I believe in, such as gender equality, the end of any type of discrimination and trying to respect every human being, even though they do not believe the same things as I do. I try to be sensible and think through everything I say when I go into a discussion with someone who has a different opinion than me. But man, sometimes people can be bitches and I facepalm. I FACEPALM, MY FRIENDS. And I weep for humanity. Okay, let's not be this theatrical, but I am serious when I say that I get a very unsettling feeling in my stomach that makes me want to punch puppies (which I never do obviously, because puppies are the best, but all the more reason this type of thing upsets me).

What AM I talking about, you ask? Well, lemme put it down for you, G. More than a month ago, I went to a wedding. The guy that was getting married was one of the kids in a family that has known my family since, basically, the day I was born. That's almost twenty years! When we were kids, we played with barbiedolls and lego, we smashed each other in videogames and did all the fun stuff that kids do together. As life progressed, we got to see less and less of each other, because that's what life does. You go in different directions, you grow up faster or slower, someone gets a boyfriend earlier on or tries to focus on their schoolwork more. You get the picture, right? But my mom always stayed close to their mom, so sometimes I heard when someone broke up with their girlfriend or boyfriend or I sent them a happy birthday when it was that time of the year.

So, the guy that got married is the sweetest guy and married the most beautiful, sweet and intelligent woman and I was incredibly honored and happy to be part of their special day. They looked gorgeous and happy together and I cried when they read their wedding vows. I knew what he went through to get to this point in his life, and I felt very proud and happy for him.

How my underwear got to be the topic of a facebook discussion

Now comes the most important part of the whole day: WHAT WAS I WEARING? I'm not kidding, people. Someone got married and people were worried about what I was wearing. How did those worries, that I care exactly ZERO POINT ZERO about, find their way into my life so that I started caring about them? Facebook. You see, my sister and me are part of a discussion group that sometimes feature subjects that I really care about, like fat shaming, feminism and slut shaming. The subject of slut shaming came up and one of the brothers from the guy that recently got married reacted on the discussion. One of his points was that, once a man sees a woman in a sexual context, they can't easily unsee it. Those were opinions that I don't care for and I feel that they add to the world in a very negative way, but my sister was already on a roll with telling him off in every possible way, so I tried to make a joke and stated my own opinion. Which boils down to "Slut shaming's bad, mmkay." Because you shouldn't judge people on the length of their skirt or the amount of sexy selfies they post on the internet, that's the oldest lesson in the book. I don't know about you guys, but my mom wasn't the most traditional mom and yet still she taught me not to judge a book by it's cover, however short of long that cover may be.

The facebook discussion carried on, with the high point being the following: the guy we were discussing slut shaming with, told me, to prove his point, that he saw black underwear showing through my cream dress at the wedding. And a month later, he still can't unsee that shit. Poor guy was traumatised by my wardrobe malfunction, if there was actually any underwear showing through. I looked in the mirror a gazillion times before we left for the wedding, my mom, boyfriend and parents in law never saw anything and my sister owned the dress previously, stating that there is no showing through of the underwear with that dress. Now, whether or not the underwear was showing through, let's come to a conclusion that's pretty obvious, shall we? When someones underwear is showing through their dress, it's USUALLY not on purpose. You should probably think "woops, that's a little silly/painful" and maybe tell the person so they can, I dunno, change their underwear or at least be aware of that fact. Or, see it for the fucking futile thing it is and let it go. The latter being the most obvious and intelligent thing to do, no? Or am I being holier than thou?

The discussion on facebook ended not very long after my sister called him out, telling him to back the fuck away from her sister (love ya, sis <3) and me stating that I had no idea whatsoever about my underwear and that he made me feel kinda crappy about myself. After some other people told him that he needed to apologize, he stated "I'm sorry" and continued to talk about why he came to the vile decision of talking about my underwear in a facebook discussion group. It wasn't terribly interesting, so I zoned out and I continued living my godforsaken, black underwear wearing life like the terrible slut I am (I'm really joking here, you guys, I don't feel sorry for myself :D).

You're usually such a sensible girl!

I thought "well, I never thought my underwear would be the topic of a discussion unless it was with my boyfriend or my sister" because you know, boyfriends are interested in underwear and sisters discuss patterns and cuts of anything, including thongs. Now, weeks later, I hear my mom having a heated discussion with someone on the phone, which is odd. My mom is a peaceful new age chick, never wanting to go "into conflict" with anybody. But now, my underwear was the lady of the hour again! Oh happy day, mama! Apparently, the family that I previously mentioned had been discussing my underwear! Not only the guy on facebook, but his brother, sister and mother too! The guy that had gotten married not so much, because he probably don't give a rats ass and I respect that very much. The conclusion of the family? I looked "inappropriate" and they "expected more from me" because I'm usually such a sensible and intelligent girl.

Lesson learned: the sluttier the dress, the dumber you are! As your hemline rises, your IQ lowers! I don't have a picture of the dress, but the concept was like this one:

But fancier, creamier, the neckline higher and sleeveless. I was deemed "inappropriate". I was slut shamed by almost an entire family that has known me since I was a baby, prancing around in diapers. Maybe you think "Tssk tssk, Naomi, what are you so miffed about? Everybody gossips about the way people dress at parties!" Well, read on!

The part where I get on my high horse

I know about the world. When you're a girl, you get judged from the get go. Kids in elementary school judged me because I had a funny accent and because I was chubby. You learn that the world is a superficial and hard place, even when you're a kid. When puberty comes along, it all gets worse. Your body is suddenly the most important thing in the world and everybody gets a say in it. The way you dress is always wrong and what you say is always wrong, because there will always be somebody that will disagree with you. As you get older, you realise that you'd rather not give a fuck about what other people think of you. Does that actually ever happen? I don't think so. Everybody cares about what other people think. Especially the people that you love, people that you've known for a long time, people that should know you for the person you are. People that should know better than to judge you by the showing of your underwear.

I am aware of the way our world works. People judge because people judge them. But most importantly, people judge because it's a lot fucking easier to just go around judging people than to question your own thoughts and actions before you go and soil the world with the opinions nobody cares about. Think about this: somewhere, there's a girl that's been called a slut one too many times because she wore a short skirt to school. She feels so bad about herself that she starts questioning whether she's even a decent human being. Maybe she stops caring, maybe she goes through years of therapy trying to make up for the lack of self-esteem, maybe she starts cutting herself. What matters most, people? Feeling good after you come to the conclusion and talking about the fact that somebody is a dumb whore because she wore something inappropriate, in your most humble opinion, or realising that you're just being judgy and that you should know better by now and try to think twice before you become sheeple that judge because others judge too?

Have you not been judged? Maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't do unto other what you don't want others to do unto you. I do enjoy the irony of quoting the bible on the topic of slutshaming.

I just wish that people would care about the emotional wellbeing of the other person moreso than about feeling the need to put a stamp on someone.

So today I stand before you as a slut. And you know what? I will fly my slut flag proudly. Sorry to all the poor underpriveleged guys who won't ever be able to unsee me in my bikini, being a total skankho.

Bikini: H&M

I will end my rant by sharing Amanda Palmer.

Dear Daily Mail and other slut shamers,

UP YOURS

Love,

Naomi

EMO: A Simple Kind of Life

Good girls are happy and satisfied

I won't stop asking until I die

- Robyn

Bloggers and friends, princes and thieves, sisters and brothers, I have not forsaken you. I've been kind of reorganizing my life. It's strange and different and good and wonderful. My school year ended on a positive note and I started my summerjob, working in a shoestore. Since the place I'm still officially living with the momster is in a little hole of a town where I couldn't find a summer job if I would turn over every rock, I'm temporarily living with the boyfriend. Which is all going really fucking amazing and I can't believe it. You see, this is one of the first times in my 19-year-old life that I'm in a completely normal, secure and happy situation without threat of it changing once I turn around. I'm not quite used to it yet.

You see, I'm the kind of person that seems quite figured out, calm and confident to the outside world while I'm actually questioning everything that happens, inside my own head and to the people closest to me. Sometimes, I feel like I'm waiting until the happy times are through and things go back to normal. Normal being "fucked up". These past few months have been the most amazing time in my life and while I fully realise that and am incredibly happy, I've come to the conclusion that I've never been more insecure either. Trying to maintain your own identity and figuring out what exactly is happening while you're living life is tough shit. When you're used to your life going a certain way, whether that's insecure and unhappy or otherwise, it's strange to suddenly come to the conclusion that life can be, in fact, pretty good. Relationships can be positive and easy. Friendships can be full of unconditional love and respect. Family can be supportive and fun. Obviously it's a positive conclusion, yet coming to the conclusion that life is not what you expected it to be is unsettling. I lived a big part of my life thinking that life will kick you in the cojones anyways so you might as well get used to it. There are so many things that can get you down and double that amount can kick you while you're already down. We keep getting up, because that's the only thing we can do, but everytime our heart gains another scratch and our ass gains another bruise. 

Now, in the last couple of months, my heart has been recovering and my ass has only been bruised because of my own clumsy shenanigans. I've gone to see The Who, my true love, with my other true love in Amsterdam. Thinking back to the last time I saw The Who, when I was a wee gal of only 13, I realised once again how much life changes. But this time, it changed for the better. Insecurities are part of growing up and part of life, I guess. To quote The Muppets, because they're my soulmates, You always believe in other people, but that's easy. Sooner or later, you gotta believe in yourself, too, because that's what growing up is. Right in the heart, Muppet, right in the bleeding heart.

Next time I leave 2 months in between blogposts, come and slap me, will you? I miss clearing my mind while you poor ol' souls have to read my ramblings. I want to share a picture with you of my dudebro love & yours truly, because you have been my loyal readers and I've shared bad times with you quite often. Now it's time for some positive shite, DARN IT!

And I want to share my last photography project with you too! For one of my photography classes I had to do a presentation about a photographer and take pictures inspired by his or her work. I chose Cindy Sherman (please check her out, she's amazing and feminist!) and took the following pictures for my class:

 

I'm defintely way more into the simple black and white pictures but they were loads of fun to do. My teacher told me I could've been Cindy Sherman's little sister with a talent for self portraits and a possible future in teaching. I'm a happy little photographer in the making! 

Peace out, lovers. STAY FRESH.

EMO post: The kids are alright

I've been neglecting my writing and blogging lately and I want to STOP DOING IT, DAMN IT. Because I've met so many wonderful people through blogging and I really enjoy writing. But sometimes with school, family and other things my mind wanders off and I forget about writing and blogging. This will end now! I have some stuff to talk about. Since I haven't done a personal EMO post in a while I thought it was a good time to get the emo show on the road again.

As some of my readers will know, I've had a pretty... eventful summer, to put it nicely. A parent died, a longterm relationship ended nastily and dramatically, it was pretty epic in a terrible soap opera kind of way. After dealing with that crap head on for a couple of months (Thank Jebus for summer vacations) life really got started again and I realised the world hasn't really stopped turning. In fact, the world didn't even change a bit. The bus I took before all that stuff happened is still the same bus. The library I went to before is still the same library. School hasn't changed, cities haven't changed, family and friends haven't changed. But I have. That's the scariest part of it all. You can only break up with a person once (okay technically you can do it many times but I don't roll that way) and you can only lose a person to illness once. You know that life goes on and that everything, how heartbreaking and terrible it might be at first, passes. But the thing you can never really prepare yourself for is how life changes you.

Even though you try so hard to hold on to yourself and the person you believe you are, slowly but surely life creeps up on you and starts tweaking the little nuts and bolts in your head. Before you know it you forget what it actually was you used to believe in and what your particular thoughts on certain issues were. I could never imagine how some (granted, life changing) events can change you to your core. Not only your opinions and ideals but.. I'm not quite sure how to describe it. Some fundamental feeling you always carry with you about yourself. That, if there's anything you can be sure about, it's who you are. Realising that the person you are is eternally changing and that you're not the same person now as you were a month ago is a very strange thing. Now I understand all those "before you can be wise and old you first have to be young and stupid" things. While it's hella creepy to realise that I'm changing as a person it's also kind of awesome, now that I think about it. It means that, whatever is happening, I'm not standing still. It means that I'm learning and every step of the way I'm coming a little closer to becoming the person I'm "meant" to be. To quote Carl Sagan: "I don't know where I'm going... but I'm on my way."

Not only have I changed in mind/spirit, I've changed quite a bit on the outside too. I'm not sure when and how it happened but I lost some weight. I'm not even sure how to feel about it. When I look in the mirror I see the same girl as always. If the clothes I had didn't suddenly turn out to be two sizes too big I probably wouldn't have noticed a thing. People tell me how different I look and how "GREAT" this is. I'm still not sure how to feel about that, either. Is simply losing weight a good thing? Because I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't have a motivation. Probably just a hell of a lot of stress, a bit more excercise (when I'm pissed off I go for walks/runs with my dog until my legs go numb, basically) and that's it. I always feel strange when people go into hyper happy mode simply because I lost some weight. Honestly, it makes me feel more insecure rather than anything else. To notice how much people care about something as silly as your weight and how different they treat you because of that, bah, humbug. I knew that people were silly but this is just a little depressing. HULLO THERE, fat-shaming! I know they mean well and that being skinnier is a generally good thing in our society but mostly, it just kind of baffles and irritates me. On the other hand, having smaller boobs is a lot more practical when buying bras. Which is also kind of annoying to think about because you'd think that people with bigger boobs would be more in need of BRAS. Going from an E to D cup and still only being able to find 2 bras in your cupsize in a big ass lingerie store with affordable stuff... say it with me: BAH, humbug.

Conlusion: I'm getting used to the new me. Change is fucking terrifying. But I think I kind of like it, too. Next post will be an outfit again and, if you're lucky, pink hair again! PARTY TIME, EXCELLENT!

EMO post: Amanda Todd

"If you're looking for love, for what it's worth, I've plenty of it lying around here somewhere" - Garbage


I think most of you have heard of her. If not about her, about people like her. Amanda Todd was a 15-year-old girl who committed suicide october 10th. She had been cyber-bullied, bullied, blackmailed and physically attacked. It all started with her showing her breasts to someone on the internet she didn't know personally. She was 12-13 years old at the time. If you want to know more about her you can check this wikipedia page. I want to talk about some of the issues that are portrayed in this particular "case" that are closest to my heart.

1. The slut-shaming.

I talked about this girl in class after suggesting this particular issue to my teacher. It's a kind of human sciences class where we usually dedicate some of the time to an interesting article that had been in the news the past week. Usually it's about elections/politics, fights/acts of hooliganism or, on a rare and dreaded occasion, sports. I have been thinking about Amanda Todd for a couple of days now and even though I knew the reactions in my class would be incredibly frustrating for me to listen to (I actually got pissed off in class and yelled at a dude) I thought it was an important topic to discuss. Not only the bullying part of the story but also because of the slut-shaming. Once the teacher mentioned her name and what we would be talking about, the aforementioned dude started rolling his eyes and silently murmured :"Yeah, but she was basically asking for it. Who's stupid enough to put their boobs on the internet?". I can tell you, my dear readers, I'm not an easy girl to piss off. In my head, I'm pissed off all the time. But to really get me to raise my voice and be obviously ANGRY, it takes some real specific pushing of my personal buttons. And this was one of those rare occasions.

I had some back-up from a cool girl I usually talk to between classes and we went, to quote that creeper friend of Berger in "Sex and the city", a little "psychobitch" on his ass. I asked him, with a booming voice, "You really think you DESERVE to be treated and feel like a piece of shit JUST because you made the mistake of showing your boobs to someone? She was TWELVE YEARS OLD, for crying out loud." and awaited his answer. He said something along the lines of "okay maybe she didn't deserve it but I still don't really feel sorry for her. I feel a lot more sorry for people who get bullied that didn't do anything to provoke it. Doing stupid stuff like this is basically asking for it.". Naively, I said "That's just as stupid as saying that a girl deserves to be assaulted when she's wearing a short skirt." and I heard SEVERAL dudes go "Well...". I loudly proclaimed "DUDE, DON'T EVEN" but before I could finish my ungodly sentence my teacher came into the conversation and said "MEN, PUH-LEASE" and started a rant about how no one ever asks to be bullied or assaulted, however they dress, act or even when they make a stupid little mistake like Amanda Todd did. My teacher for that particular subject is boss.

The girl showed her boobs to someone a couple of years ago. Big WHOOP. If anyone feels like that's something to be shocked about, go watch some porn. No, it's not a particularly smart thing to do. But can we slowly start to realise that boobs are a bodypart that, you know, HALF OF THE HUMAN RACE has? We don't need to make people feel ashamed about having them, swirling them around, keeping them in- or outdoors... and we certainly don't need to send pictures around of other peoples bodyparts.

Now, I do get where the dude in my class comes from. Somewhere, in the far back of my mind, I understand. But it still pisses me off to no end. Amanda Todds story speaks to me in a very personal way and I feel very strongly about defending her, even though it's too late to make a difference for her personally.

2. Someone please love me.

I think this is the main reason why I feel so strongly about this particular girl. I remember being 12 myself and I can fully imagine my younger self doing something equally stupid. Luckily, I didn't have the guts to take naked pictures of myself. Luckily, I was too scared of what my sister would say when she found out I ever did something like that. But I was so incredibly insecure. Around that time, my puberty was really kicking in. I was having my period, the boobs were kicking it up a notch, I was turning into a young woman and losing the kid looks. I think most of you will recognise at least some of the things I'll mention. Changing, from a kid to a teenager, is hell. If you ask me, puberty sucks donkeyballs. Your surroundings and your body change much faster than your mind. Suddenly, you catch creepy men staring at your chest and cars drive by while honking like a maniac when you walk down the street.

INTRODUCTION TO WOMANHOOD: Your body belongs to us now.

In one way, it freaks you the hell out. But in another way, it's interesting. You become "attractive" in a completely new way. In that moment in your development, when you're aching to get some kind of appreciation and love from someone, you might do something stupid. Maybe you join some clique in your high school and do some mildly illegal things, maybe you pretend to be someone else in order to fit in, maybe you pick up smoking, whatever. But seeing as how "looking pretty" is deemed to be one of the most desirable things for a girl/woman in life, finding someone who tells you you're beautiful is a joyous occasion when you're that young and insecure. So I can relate to the younger Amanda Todd.

Someone tells you you're beautiful and even expresses interest in seeing more of you? Wow. He likes me. How can someone like me? I can't believe it. But he likes me. I shouldn't keep him waiting. He's an adult too. An adult man thinks I'm attractive. What would an adult woman do? Take the picture.

Now that I'm older I know that finding someone attractive is NOT the same as loving someone. Getting attention for the way you look is, if done in a nice way, fun but superficial. Now, I ache for someone who loves me because of my silly sense of humor, my taste in movies and music, the way I passionately want to change the world for the better, how I never seem to grow out of my deep love for Zelda and Rurouni Kenshin, how looking at a single picture can make me cry. The best lesson I've learned in this year of heartache is this one (please don't mind the cheesiness): "The most valuable thing you will ever possess is you. Don't sell yourself short." But if you don't realise you're a valuable person, you will always sell yourself short. It took a long time for me to realise how valuable I am and that my value isn't determined by how many people find me attractive or ugly. When I was reading this story, instead of thinking "Jebus, what a stupid girl." I thought "if only I could've told her that she IS valuable.". Was valuable.

3. Tell me where it hurts.

I want to say something here. I might not have a super popular blog with thousands of readers but I still want to say it. If ANYONE who ever comes across this blog feels like life has absolutely no beauty or meaning to you anymore and you need someone to talk to, please contact me. Or anyone. Talk to a teacher, a family member, a counselor/therapist or a friend. If you can't or don't want to, you can talk to me. I can't fix anything for you. But I know you're valuable enough to give my attention and time to. Please know that. If anything helped me in my hour of need, it's the people who showed me that they cared about me. But you have to reach out first. This is also one of the points why I feel so strongly about this story. I might not have gone through what she had gone through but I took some hard blows in a matter of weeks and I literally felt like there would never be a beautiful moment in store for me again. I can barely imagine how tough it must've been for her. But everything passes. The passing time hurts like hell and it's really hard to just live through days where you barely feel like there are any reasons to live, but it passes. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to feel like you matter. You deserve to feel so good about yourself that you'd rather stay single your whole life than give yourself away to someone who doesn't deserve you. If you need some love, send me an email. Don't keep your hurt to yourself. Everybody needs a little tenderness.

4. A question.

As the last point in my post I want to ask you something. Please don't spread the hate. Don't say "Stupid bitch, she shouldn't have shown the world her boobs.". Don't go commenting on her youtube video that she should've died earlier. Don't tell people they're ugly. In your head, you can do whatever you want. If you want to gossip with some friends about someone's ridiculous hairstyle, have at it. But don't spread the hate. I want to contribute to changing the world a little. If I can. I've been told that being idealistic is naive and that only the youngsters want to change the world. But I always think : "If you don't want to change the world it means that you think the world doesn't need changing.". And I don't think anyone thinks the world doesn't need a little tweak. Or a huge kick in the behind.

Thank you for reading.



                                                                                                               

EMO post: I loved you. Yesterday.

When you go would you have the guts to say

"I don't love you like I loved you yesterday"?

I've been feeling very good actually, the last weeks. Starting school, looking to the future, getting to know new people  (however superficial), it's all been good. I haven't even been thinking about my summer of break up drama all that much. But, as I've come to notice, not thinking about things won't make them any less of a big deal. It won't make them a smaller part of your life. When stuff happens, it happens. While you can try to deal with it the best possible way you can, there's no guarantee that the other people/person involved will be co-operative. While it's been a few weeks now, I still wanted to tell you about the last serious encounter I had with my ex. Because after it happened, I think I was so shocked and angry about everything I just kind of shut it out and stopped thinking about it altogether. It came charging at me yesterday and slapped me in the face. Hard.

I think it's been three weeks or something, since this happened. I got a call in the middle of the night from my ex, asking me to take down my blogposts where I talk about him. Because the girl he's been seeing (the girl he cheated on me with) might find out about me that way. Needless to say that this question is all sorts of crazy, right? Even more needless to say that I said "Well, boy, I think not." and hung up. I gave myself a pat on the back for not letting myself be manipulated by the motherfucker and went to sleep. After punching my bed and running around the house because of the sheer anger going through my veins. Obviously. 

The next day I wake up and go check out my blogspot, only to find out that he changed my password, deleted a blogpost and put my blog on private. The blogpost he deleted was "EMO post: F.E.E.L.I.N.G.C.A.L.L.E.D.L.O.V.E", the post where I tell you exactly what he did. And because he deleted it, I will remind you again of what it is he did, exactly: He cheated on me, while my dad was dying, flew to Israel to meet his internetlover and failed to mention even one of these things to me. In fact, I found out because I found a loveletter to her in my own fucking house. He didn't even plan on breaking up with me, he just thought that he would kind of have this half and half thing going on. Because I'm the nice, dependable girl who supported him through thick and thin. But not fun and new. He did all this while I was going through the most difficult time in my life and was seriously fucked up in my head. Again, needless to say I was going batshit crazy about the things he did and that he even had the guts to muck about with my personal things. I called him when I found out about the bloghacking thing and screamed at him. I don't think it was very articulate but more of a "GIVE ME MY PASSWORD MOTHERFUCKER" yellfest. He started crying about how he panicked, didn't have anywhere else to turn, just has the one person who loves him and that he didn't want to lose her. How he didn't want to make the same mistakes with her as he did with me. I'm sorry but he must have some serious braindamage going on. He cheats on me for months, never tells her about the fact that he still was in a "committed" (not so much from his side, obviously) relationship, that he had been for five years and then claims that he hasn't already made that mistake? Jebus. Jebus Rice. 

Right then and there, I lost it. I lost my sympathy for him. And I think the last active loving feelings I had for him, too. I laughed at him. And I said "I wish I was laughing because it's funny.". I told him that he needs to stop fucking over other people and that it's none of his business anymore what I do, think or write. That he has no right to demand things of me, not now, not ever. But most of all, that he should deal with the shit he did and take responsibility for it, like a grown fucking man.

Karma is real. Not in a supernatural kind of way, as far as I'm concerned, but in a simple, logical way. If you go around kicking people in the nuts, chances are there will be some nutkicking right back at you. If you treat me like shit, you will get kicked out of my life. You can cry about how tough it is and tell me how you love me and want me back (which he did too, by the way), you'll still be an asshole and I still won't like you any more. You can delete my blogposts, boy, but you can't delete what you did. 

All of this. It just makes me so sad. I'm pissed off, obviously, about everything he did. How he treated me, without any respect or love. Everytime something new pops up in my head, something he lied about, something that makes sense now, it hurts. Every fucking time. Yesterday, it suddenly hit me. While me and my family were dealing with the fact that my father would be dead within the hour, he was chatting with his girlfriend. While I was crying because I had no idea what to do with myself after my dads death, asking him to support me and maybe give me a hug, he would tell me to "suck it up" and go outside to call his girlfriend. When I told him I was so out of it I started thinking about cutting myself, he told me "Yeah, sorry, I'm busy right now, I can't not take this phonecall. Gimme 5-10 minutes.". I only just started realising all this shit. And it hurts. 

He had the guts to lie to me. To kick me when I was way, way down. And after that, he breaks into my fucking blogspot account to, somehow, erase what he did. Motherfucker, please. 

I haven't heard from him since, thank my lucky stars. He still hasn't changed his adress though. JEBUS what a douchebag. One of the things I learned this year: All the drama that happens in movies? Just drama that happens in real life. But with better lighting.

Why'd ya have to go and make things so complicated

Yes, I actually quoted an Avril Lavigne song for a posttitle. Simply because

uhuh,
Life's like this

OKAY I'll stop now. I'm actually more of a sk8erboi fan (or however she spelled/numbered it). But I know, like, 5 songs from her or something. Something with "it's a damn cold night", another song that's all about "HEY YOU I DON'T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND" or something and than there's a song with her running around a certain city avoiding her boyfriend. Something with "all I wanna do is mess around" and "WHAT. THE HELL.". Yes, her lyrics are quite deep. The only thing I really liked about her was her marriage with the kinda cute Sum 41 frontman. Pop-punk teen queen/king, kind of adorable. I'm more of a Sum 41 girl than Avril.

After dedicating more sentences to Avril Lavigne than I actually planned/wanted, I want to start off with thanking you wonderful people. After pouring my heart out on my blog, with my "deepest, darkest secrets" out in the open, I got wonderful support from my readers. And I can't tell you how much it meant/means to me. Even from people I don't know all that well I get beautiful comments/emails about how much they love my blog and how I'm "an inspiring individual", it's just wonderful. While I am going through a hard time in my life and I have moments where I just want to roll up into a ball and softly cry myself to sleep (sniffles), moments when I check my email and see wonderful messages from people I like and respect really give me a kick and make me smile. Apart from the fact that it gives me a good feeling that all kinds of people seem to care enough about me to leave a little "how are you?" message, it's also very nice to notice that when I open myself up to people, people seem to respond with the same care and interest with which I wrote the post. That you "get" what I'm trying to write and convey.


I'm going through all kinds of confusing things. First, the emotions. I have good days and bad days. I have days where I mostly feel okay but I suddenly take a monstrous plunge down and end up bawling for a good 20 minutes. I'm very happy that I'm living with my mum now because she's a great hugger and she knows she can cheer me up a bit with watching movies with me and making healthy veggie soups. So far, I've watched  "500 days of Summer", "Milk", "Transamerica", "Awakenings", "It's a wonderful life", "50 first dates", "The green mile" and I think I'm forgetting one. All wonderful movies and reminding you about how my former boyfriend didn't want to watch movies with me for the past year or so, I kinda forgot how much I love movies. I don't want to forget about myself anymore. I only have one life and I want to live it the way that makes me happy.

I'm not "in love" with him anymore. But when you've spent so much time together, shared so many experiences and memories, the love you feel doesn't just go away. It would be easier if it did but it doesn't. But he has been my best friend and first love, and I don't feel like I want to completely shut him out of my life. I do, however, want to build my life around me from now on, he is not the most important thing in my life anymore.

You probably won't believe that this is actually happening but I have an outfit for you gals. YES, an emo post WITH clothing! One of my newest buys at the sales this summer, the harem pants. I never would've thought I would actually buy one but GODDAMN this thing is comfy, gorgeous and just plain awesome and flattering. I was always a little worried about the low crotch part of the pants because I hate it when the tops of my thighs rub together without any fabric in between but this is just the perfect fit and there's no trouble whatsoever on the crotch part! I've already worn it tons of times and I was seriously considering getting a second one just like this. I didn't but I know that this won't be the last pair of harem pants in my closet.

Also, forgive me but STOP:

HAMMERTIME

also a good shot to see how low the crotch is btw, it really is the perfect fit. The baggyness is perfectly flattering, the print and colours are gorgeous, it's just great pants, man!

Little make-up tip: if you want a bright line of eyeshadow underneath or on your eyelid, get a white eyelinerpencil and draw a line. On top of the white, dab a bright color with an eyeliner brush or an 'angled brush' and you get a great result! It's also cheaper than buying all kinds of colored eyeliner. I'm a cheap Dutchie, yo.

and last, my slightly abstract flower nailart:

You are awesome, thank you again and I'll see you later!

I don't need to fight to prove I'm right

To start off this post about how incredibly shitstained my life has been, I needed a Baba O'riley lyric. Because The Who is always there for me and they'll never break my heart. There are certain things in life that will never fail you, like your favorite song, movie or videogame. Chances are that, by the time I'm forty or so, I'll be a walking billboard for all the things I love. I don't think it'll be long before I get my first tattoo. Something special, just for me. But as I've already told you, this post is going to be about one of the hardest times in my life, not about tattoo's. But the tattoo post is probably gonna happen someday soon, anyways.

As you already know, my father passed away last april. Losing someone is never easy but losing a parent while having had an incredibly complicated, flawed relationship is very difficult. Apart from losing my dad, around the same time I also began to have the feeling that my relationship with my boyfriend of five years was beginning to fail. I even talked about it briefly in a past blogpost . While I felt like he was cheating on me because I've had fear of abandonement issues (who doesn't?) in the end of the day, it was just my brains doing the math. He had been very distant, didn't know how to handle me, seemed like he just saw me as an inconvenience and just made me feel worse all together. It wasn't like that the whole time but that was the feeling that prevailed. With a parent dying and my boyfriend of five years slipping through my fingers, I felt myself slipping away. I started to forget who I am, what I love and, most importantly, that I'm supposed to make myself happy before I (can) make others happy. With having no control over anything in my life anymore, I started thinking about harming myself. I never did it, but I came damn close. I knew my boyfriend was lying to me but I couldn't get him to open up to me so I broke down. Sometimes your capacity of "carrying" all of lifes hardships just overflows and it can be the tiniest thing to drive you over the edge. The scariest thing about it was that I didn't recognize myself anymore. If it seems like you can't even control your own emotions and thoughts anymore... if you don't have yourself, you don't have anything. And it was only after talking to my sister and mother that I got a grip on myself again, reminding myself that I deserve to be happy and I don't deserve to be treated like anything else but a wonderful human being. After deciding to "take a break" in our relationship, my boyfriend took some stuff and slept somewhere else while I tried to pull myself together again, with the help of my sister and mother.

Later I found a loveletter to another girl in my boyfriends backpack. I screamed, cried, cursed (like a good Dutchie in distress does) and cried again. It's probably a good thing my sister had her graduation on that same day so I had something to take my mind off of things. (awkward congratulations to my wonderful sis!).
I broke up with my boyfriend of five years. Now ex boyfriend. BAH, humbug. I always hoped that, if the moment of falling in love with someone else would come, we would be able to talk about it. With respect for the relationship we've had for the past years and all the hard and good times we shared. Not like this. For five years I gave him everything I had, with all my heart. I loved him, with all my heart. Being with someone else was never even on my mind, not for a second. I know it's possible to just go for someone, giving your all for your relationship, because that's what I did. And I deserve someone who does the same for me. One of the worst parts about all this, except for feeling replacable and mediocre, is that I started wondering if I did something wrong. I know perfectly well that I did nothing wrong and there's nothing to feel guilty about or anything. But still, if you get cheated on or someone close to you leaves you, you always have a little monster in the back of your head telling you that you're just not good enough. People are always insecure about a certain thing and my main insecurity is my intellect. With my dad being the first in line to give me the feeling I wasn't good enough with stupid stuff like not being able to understand a particular math problem, I kept that insecurity and it was something my boyfriend always made me feel bad about too. Not being able to name a certain astronaut would result in him giving me the dirtiest look, a big sigh and a speech about how he doesn't understand it's even possible to not know those types of things. I'm done with that shit. I did learn something though: if you don't have anything to hide you might as well show me. I now know why he would freak out if I touched his cellphone. Also, the cold hard truth: I'm right 99.9% of the time. Yes, even when it comes to cheating boyfriends. Let's say it together: BAH, humbug. Being angry at him is a challenge to me because I'm so fucking reasonable. I think "Yeah okay, he did cheat on me and was a complete dickhead for a couple of months but we had so many good times too and there's two parts of the story here and you can't help falling in love with someone else..." blablabla. It's a bit unhealthy because than you start dreaming about your ex boyfriend telling you you're a stupid asshole girlfriend who just HAD to be cheated on. Seriously, last night I dreamed that my ex boyfriend kept shitting on me like that and when I tried to punch him in the face, my fist would turn into jell-o. It's not a fun time. So I woke up feeling like shit. Too bad you can't control your dreams.

SO, that's what's been happening in my life. It's been a, to quote Samantha, shitmotherfuckerfuckshit situation. But I want to thank my wonderful family and my blogging penpal Jules aka Giulia for being there for me. It's nice to have people come through when you hid a bump in the road (or maybe a freaking mountain), even if it means that some people don't. I'll end my post with some charming pictures of myself, one resembling the "The Cat Returns" poster! Now I just need to find my own Baron Humbert Von Gikkingen.

And a happy picture to end this sad post, for no one I've ever seen was this excited to go down a slide:

See you laters, alligators.