She know she fine!
(via accras)
“One of my earliest memories is sitting in a sand box and watching the other kids play. I could see their mouths moving but couldn’t hear what they were talking about. They seemed so happy. And I desperately wanted to participate. But my deafness kept me in a glass cage. I was never able to verbally speak. And whenever I tried to reach out, I’d be forgotten quickly. During recess I’d sit alone and read my books, because it hurt too much to look at the other kids. In high school I had an interpreter who predicted I’d never marry. She said that disabled people were too much of a burden for abled people. It was a casual remark for her, but I never forgot it. And the few flings I had as a teenager only reinforced that belief. None of the guys I dated learned sign language. They didn’t even try. I think they viewed dating a deaf girl as more of a novelty than anything. And every time it didn’t work out, I was left feeling lonelier. I went to college two hours away. Which wasn’t far, but it was far for me. And I first met Stuart in my education class. He tried to say ‘hello’ that very first day, but I accidentally ignored him. I think he figured out the reason once my interpreter showed up. But he kept smiling at me, and a few days later he slid me a photo with a note on the back and his email address. I spent a lot of time looking at that photo, waffling back and forth about whether I should contact him. But finally I decided there was nothing to lose. We began spending time together outside of class. We’d communicate by writing back and forth in a notebook. I learned all about his life. And he learned about mine. After a few months of this, I started to have hope, maybe he was actually interested in my thoughts. Maybe he liked me for me. One night we were watching a scary movie in my dorm room. We were writing back and forth, laughing at the cheesy scenes, when suddenly Stuart’s face grew serious. He wrote that he needed to tell me something. My heart sank. I thought: This is where he tells me that I’m a lot of fun, but my deafness is a dealbreaker. But he looked me in the eyes, took a deep breath, and haltingly began to sign: ‘Will. You. Be. My. Girlfriend?’”
(via sbrown82)
You hate yourself so loudly. You hate yourself at the top of your lungs. Your loathing for yourself permeates your speech. “Sorry I’m just rambling.” “Don’t worry about it.” “Just ignore me.” “Sorry if I’m annoying you.” “Sorry I don’t make sense.” “Sorry about that.” Sorry, sorry, sorry. You act as if you have to beat everyone else to the punch. As if the punching bag is you. If you hate yourself first, if you hate yourself loudest, then nobody will hurt you. You clapped your hands over your ears and shut your eyes and balled yourself up so that you’d never have to experience people’s loathing for you. And it meant you never heard their love. You drowned it out. You screamed your hatred over it. And you never got to hear it.
I know people like this. Sad.
(via icy-cold-milk)
(via lyanaalvarado)







