My mother and I do not get along.I spent eighteen years fighting to be good enoughMy mother and I do not get along. by ~Original-Blue
fighting to be the best at whatever I was going to do
fighting to make her happy.
She said she just wanted me to be happy
but when I was happiest
she was dissatisfied.
And when I finally could tell her
that for eighteen years
every hour every minute
I’d been fighting
for her,
she wouldn’t hear it,
because it’s not enough for her
and sometimes she can be wrong
but no one else
is allowed
to be right.
And when I told her
- let it all spill out in messy chunks,
my fear and anxiety, the constant pressure of her words and disapproving eyes
glassy and green, something I once wished
Tell me again how you're pressured by society.You squeeze us intoTell me again how you're pressured by society. by ~Original-Blue
too-small clothes
and tell us how to act.
You say we should
love the bodies we have,
then say they disgust you.
You tell us to cover up
but still be sexy,
be chaste but attractive,
and above all else
treasure men’s love
and approval.
And then you tell us
after this constant
(every day, every second, of our lives)
assualt
on our well-being
on our happiness
on our sense of worth
that we are still
fat/ugly/stupid/inferior.
Then wonder why we scream at you,
wonder why we rage,
when in actuality it’s not just a passing comment
without malice or harmful intent
it’s a lifetime
it’
Depressed 
on verite dure, le verite dure III, Le Verite Dure V, and le verite dure VII
I love Tammy's work, and it was so awesome to get the chance to draw some of it.
Sta.sh
