Lauren. 20-something. Bloomsburg, PA. Self-proclaimed Writer.

Some days I like pink and pastel and ballerina slippers. Others I like leather and red and black and lace-up boots. My love for Chinese food, however, never falters.

I consistently reblog:
-Animal Crossing
-Attack on Titan
-Fire Emblem
-Pokemon

Plays: Magic the Gathering, World of Warcraft, Dungeons and Dragons, Star Wars: The Old Republic, Animal Crossing, Fire Emblem

 

Holy shit tumblr if a picture of a chicken or a hotdog is “triggering” to you, you’re fucking lucky.

Fuck.

Here’s a little story: In high school, for two years straight, the guys on the bus would harass me. They called me “Lawrence” (my name is Lauren) and would pull on my hair and comment on how wide my jaw was and how my dimples looked like man jowls and a bunch of other awful things. They called me man-face when they saw me in the halls and told me how handsome I was. This went on for two years.

They made me hate myself, my body, my face. I wouldn’t smile with my teeth because I was afraid my dimples would show. I always kept my head turned down to make my jaw seem narrower. I grew my hair out really long so nobody could mistake me for a guy.

Then, two years later, I finally was starting to like myself again. I got a haircut, and the woman cut it really short, but I still didn’t mind it. Then, I heard one of my friends say, as a joke, “Lauren’s hair makes her look like a boy!” He knew I heard it, and it wasn’t in ill humour, but I couldn’t help it - I completely broke down. I went into the bathroom and sobbed hysterically. I began to hyperventilate and for about 20 minutes I had to keep telling myself that it’s not true, he was just kidding. I even threw up from crying so hard.

That’s a trigger. When somebody says or does something that brings you back to a traumatic event in your life, causing an intense emotional and sometimes physical reaction.

And the thing is? I have it lucky. Rape victims, people with eating disorders, people who self-harm - they deal with these reactions daily.

Seeing a piece of chicken and feeling sad is not a trigger. Seeing a hotdog and feeling a bit grossed out because of the ingredients is not a trigger.

Get your shit straight.

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    To more eloquently illustrate my earlier point
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    This. My mom tried to tell me that I needed to just “act a part” and “suck it up and deal” if the soon-to-be-ex’s...
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