Curate, connect, and discover
Girls Who Like Girls - Blog Posts
If someone called me a pretty boy I think I’d melt into their hands right then and there….😵💫😵💫🥹🥹
"Pretty boy" butch 🤝🏻 "Good girl" femme
Ppl should stop putting so much pressure on gay ppl to "come out" and more pressure on straight ppl to stop assuming everyone's sexuality is fucking straight
Soft and Safe
I have a friend, let's call her Soft and Safe.
Let's call her that because it's shorter than Fluttering butterflies and excited hands waving, lilac purple capris and silk blouse, also soft ripped jeans and oversize hoodie. It's shorter than the Life of the party, social butterfly, but also sleepover deep talk.
She was the first one to fully support me when I came out as bi. She's still the one I feel most comfortable telling my insecurities to.
She's physically beautiful, yes, with brown curls and doe eyes, but more like her soul would make any body beautiful, you get it? It really doesn't matter how she looks. Does that make sense?
I know Soft and Safe doesn't see herself this way, so this is my way of telling her. A Tumblr post she'll never see.
Because all Soft and Safe sees is her flat chest and her acne prone skin. All she sees is that she was asked to the ball last in dance class last year. She was recently told she has depression, and she said "yeah, checks out." I don't think she sees how much I admire her, and want her to stay in my life forever. But I never told her.
So, how can you be sure you're not someone's Soft and Safe?
A war I didn't sign up for.
We're teenage girls, me and my friends. In every sense of the word.
We've got one who loves k-dramas, Tom Holland and makes great almond cake, we've got a tiny one who's sarcasm mutes me every time (to her great delight) and loves anime, we've got one who's the light and laughter of any party, who's soft safety and recently was diagnosed with depression, and we've got a childish and dreaming one who's beautiful, stunning. Everyone tells her. It frightens her.
I haven't seen my friends in a while.
No one's fault, just life. School, tests, a pandemic. So imagine my happiness! Our excitement! When a friend's friend invited us to a party, and we found time to meet up beforehand, to talk! Laugh! Eat pizza!
My friends came. And we laughed. I told them I've never been to a party, that I was pretty nervous. Soft And Safe grinned at me, told me it was fine, the boys that invited us were nice. And guess what? She had kissed one of them!! A drunken make-out, wasn't that cool??!
Then she stopped. Her smile slipped a little
Well, not that cool. She started, sitting there beside my bed.
Not all of it.
And sentence for sentence, Soft And Safe, who I grew up with, who I'd known like the other girls since I was ten, new in town and was adopted into their little group, hesitantly told me a story I'll never forget. Because it taught me life.
Because the boy she made out with was nice.
Until he asked her to kiss him on the cheek for a picture and she felt too uncomfortable and drunk to say no.
Until, when they were kissing alone in a room, he kept trying to put his hand under her shirt, even when she pushed it away.
Until he pulled her onto his lap, crotch pushed uncomfortably against her jeans, and held her waist down.
Until he barked at the girl checking up on Soft And Safe to get out.
Until he put his hand into her pants, and answered "everything is fine, relax", when she told him she didn't like that.
Until he pushed her over the sink.
Until, when she said she didn't want that and that they should go back downstairs, he got back claps and fist bumps from the other boys.
She got her best friend, whom she had rejected a week earlier, call her a slut. He said he could never see her the same way again.
We thought it wouldn't happen to us. But as we sat there in my room, staring at her forced smile, eyes frantic, we realised how she had done everything right.
And it had still happened.
It had happened to me three weeks earlier, at my gym.
And we realised
It wouldn't stop. We wouldn't grow out of it.
Being a woman would be a war we hadn't signed up for.
We went to the party. I saw him. I didn't deck him like I had planned. Because everyone would think I'm the one out of line.
Time zones are an international threat to lesbians.
me and my red chipped nail polish against the world
Guess who made a Roblox decal of two girls kissing which got flagged as NSFW?
This motherfucker
The decal was the picture
