Coming from someone who was raped, and a lack of evidence allowed my rapist to walk free:

op-onions:

Evidence is imperative. None of this “listen and believe” nonsense.

The justice system NEEDS to maintain “innocent until proven guilty.” Sometimes that allows bad people to walk away, and yeah that sucks. It’s bullshit, it makes me angry, it’s like a slap to the face to have cops tell you that there’s nothing they can do because there is no proof.

But that needs to be the case. No amount of tears, tales told, or accusations should have the same weight as actual evidence. It doesn’t matter the crime, if everything boils down to “their word against mine,” that’s not enough to prosecute and it never should be. No innocent people should be convicted of ANY crime based purely on an accusation and that is exactly what will happen if people push this “always believe the accuser” bullshit.

THANK YOU. This sort of talk would get you nailed to a wall in some circles.

(via paranormalnerd-blog)

littlelaceddandelion:

theheartthatrejoices:

I’ve decided I’m going to wear a full headscarf to class on Friday, complete with modest clothing, Despite not being Muslim, many will assume I am and I feel it is only right that I uphold a proper image so no one judges Muslims based on my actions.

I’m kind of excited lol. I have a bunch of under scarfs in practically every color on their way, but they won’t be here in time for Friday. I will just use my black or purple under scarf.

How’d it go?

It was uneventful.

witchoftheuniverse:

theheartthatrejoices:

You know, wearing hijab in public makes you almost invisible while being highly visible at the same time. I caught people staring, but the moment I caught them, they went from staring at me to staring through me.

Part of me still has lingering social anxiety about it, but largely I feel safe, protected, and focused. As a scatterbrained individual, I especially like the focused part.

I feel in this increasingly islamophobic day and age, it’s brave to wear the hijab with pride. And often I see Muslim women around wearing the most beautiful hijabs or co-ordinating them beautifully with their makeup and clothes but it would feel weird or awkward or even condescending to just tell a stranger “hey your religious expression looks totally awesome on you today, keep doing what you’re doing!” But I’m thinking it. And maybe those other people are too.

They are thinking it! I hear it periodically that they just love that girl’s scarf or how put together her outfit is. I no longer wear hijab, as my spiritual journey is constantly shifting and being a part time hijabi isn’t something I feel is right for me to do. However, I can say that hijabis love compliments just as much as the next woman. You can just say “I love your scarf! It’s gorgeous!” Or something to that effect.

(via sleepymarshmallowmagic)

madehimsaycomfychairs:

thebeauty-isa-beast:

curvellas:

my fall look today is winged eyeliner, plum lipstick, and a look on my face like i’m fucking your boyfriend and can’t wait for you to find out.

My fall look is simple liner with bold lashes, burgundy lipstick, a gleam in my  eyes that let’s men know that I’ll suck their dick, their money out of their bank accounts, and the souls right out of their bodies.

this is my favorite post on tumblr currently

(via jjongsgorl)

This back issue is a very effective form of torture.

I got the results of my MRI for my back, which I hurt last summer on the job but couldn’t seek thorough treatment for because workers comp denied to reopen my case stating I was cleared when I left the ER. (Which is horseshit but I digress.). Over a year later, still in pain ranging from a four on a good day to a solid eight to nine on bad days, I switched doctors and asked him for an MRI. He felt confident my insurance would pay for it since it had been a year after the fact and I had tried conservative therapy.

The results? Herniated L5-S1 to both sides, which explains the nerve pain in both legs. Moderate to severe degenerative disc disease, with bone-on-bone contact at some points, which tacks on osteoarthritis. Triple whammy. Prognosis is maintenance with a pain clinic at this point. Injections in the back to see if that helps, with surgery a very real possibility to fuse those two vertebrae.

I wanted to cry for two reasons. One, because this wasn’t all in my head. I wasn’t being dramatic. The feeling of ground glass in my lower back made sense. Two, I wasn’t hoping for this. I was hoping for “oh, you have a slightly bulging disc. Let’s send you for some specialized physical therapy and you’ll be right as rain.” Not “Your injury is permanent and will never completely recover. We can only hope to take it a couple steps back, but it’s advanced enough that your long term options are pain maintenance.”

I instantly thought of my career in nursing, and how much I love my job. If my back becomes so fucked that I can’t work the floor, then I may have to quit. I may have to reconsider a future as a registered nurse. I just wanted to burst into tears. I finally find something fulfilling, rewarding, and meaningful, only to have it seriously threatened only a year and a half after I start it.

So I’m waiting on the referral to a pain clinic, which just makes me feel gross. There used to be two pain clinics in town. One is run tighter than Fort Knox, the other was a pill mill. Sleezy and overrun with addicts who knew that money spoke the right language. It was shut down, but the image remains.

Mother Goddess, help me.