This Is Literally The Last Month You Can Reblog This Joke

This is literally the last month you can reblog this joke

reblog if you also have nicknames for some of your followers (ex. my Tumblr babies💕)

do you ever have those bloggers that you know by a nickname you kinda just gave them and you get excited to see them on your dash even though you’ve barely/never spoken to them ever

Repost this anywhere

Tumblr University

Optional Uniform

ID

DORMS!!!!!

The Who/Sherlock dorms

Harry Potter/Narnia/LOTR Dorms

Pirates/History dorms

disney/disney princess dorms(you can put more posters,etc)

Directioner dorms(but put more ireland flags and more pics of the boys)

Dear parents...

I am not you. We are not the same people. We don’t look at the world the same way. We choose different words. We take different steps. I can not and do not want to be you. You’re beautiful as individuals, as people, and God knows I love you to death, but I am beautiful too. And that beauty is not defined by the things we do similarly. It is defined by our differences. My beauty and it’s definition lies in myself, and it can not be framed by your norms. My beauty is mine. The words I choose are only mine. Some I share with the world, some I don’t. But the ones I do are mine to pick, and it’s not your job to pick me apart for choosing them. After all, they are doing no harm. Though they sometimes may be uncomfortable for you, they are still words worth saying. They are still an expression of the very person I am. And shouldn’t you get excited at the very thought of me wanting to express who I am? Aren’t you the ones who molded me? Shouldn’t you be happy that I’m growing and spreading outside your lines? Learning more about who it is that I am to myself and to the world? Shouldn’t you be jumping for joy every time you hear me sing my songs and not analyze and pick apart the words that make them? Shouldn’t you feel at ease for giving me roots like you did?

And shouldn’t you let me spread my branches?

Me and you are not „a we“. You say „this isn’t exactly our style“ but our style doesn’t exist. There’s mine and yours. There’s me and you. There’s loving each other for what isn’t the same in us as well as what is. You can’t fix me. I needn’t be fixed. I need to be loved. The only thing any of us essentially need is to be loved. Not for what we can agree on, but for what we can disagree on.

If courage isn’t the absence of fear but doing the right thing regardless of it, maybe confidence isn’t the absence of insecurity but knowing you have real worth despite it