Experiment 626. Twenty-five. "She" (technically cis-female but really gender-queer). Part of the invisible/forgotten B in LGBTQ. Aquarius. Fat and beautiful. Professionally involved in psychology and mental health. Feminist, activist, and advocate (which should go without saying, for everyone). Television show enthusiast. Obsessed with the 53 Disney Animated Features. ASOIAF reader. Ravenclaw.
All of my posts are queued and then randomized.
I run a Disney tumblr called disneyanalysis.
Stop hating yourself. Try going one day without saying anything bad about yourself. Try complimenting yourself. Do it again. Buy yourself dinner. Put soft things against your skin. Listen to your favorite songs. Eat ice cream. Eat ice cream naked. You have to spend the rest of your life with you. You’re all you’ve got. Be kind, start loving yourself.
Throughout my time interacting on the internet I’ve talked a lot about myself, invited others to tell me about themselves, and observed a multitude of experiences and ways of thinking.
I’ve told my stories, shared my experiences and knowledge, listened, and gave/received advice the more I became aware of my presence among certain spaces.
In talking about my life, I express the struggles I live with. Not as a means to garner sympathy or attention (as many of the people who dislike my voice and internet presence will imply), but to create a level of awareness about the shit in my life that is subject to stigma.
The kind of shit I was expected to keep quiet about for so long that my internal dialogue became loud and destructive from the pressure of pushing it down.
So I talk about mental illness, chronic pain, love, life, being fat, and how I feel about everything - all the time - to relieve that pressure.
In talking about these things, I make myself vulnerable - but more importantly, I help reinforce a standard that these things SHOULD be talked about, and deserve to be talked about.
I encourage others to do the same, to reach out to me, to keep speaking.
No one can take my fucking voice away from me and call it something else.
This is my power.
Jennifer Peepas (via internal-acceptance-movement)
I really hate the excuse that because the target audience is children or young people therefore the show should be subject to lower expectations or immune to criticism.
That assertion is ridiculous.
1.) When you’re producing a piece of media for public consumption, it is going to be subject to review, discussion, and criticism by the public. Not all of that is going to come from your intended target audience. Not all of that is going to be positive. Put on your big girl panties and deal with it. The older and more experienced you are, the more grace I expect you to take negative critiques with.
2.) That we are to expect less from media aimed at younger and (presumably) impressionable audiences is the exact opposite of my perspective. When you are creating media for a younger audience, you are more likely to be creating something they may refer back to their entire lives (i.e. the Harry Potter generation). You are potentially a formative influence on their attitudes and outlooks on society and a common touchstone by which they will connect to and bond with other people. Rather than being somehow less important or less deserving of examination and critique, I am of the opinion that media aimed at young people is MORE deserving of scrutiny than things aimed at adults who have largely already formed opinions and biases about the world. So don’t give me some bullshit about how people shouldn’t look so hard at the content, themes, and representation within kid’s shows.What confuses me is that we have much more stringent standards for, say, advertising to kids b/c we understand they may not have the skills to be critical of such things, yet we assume it’s LESS important to criticise re: fiction for kids.