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if you have to be a tudor wife (annulled, annulled and beheaded, died, annulled with a hefty settlement, beheaded, survived only to die in childbirth after remarrying), you’re going to pick anne of cleves, right? she’s the only one who didn’t sleep with henry and also made bank

#none of his wives had a choice, particularly

#few aristocratic women did

#but Anna of Cleves made the best of the choices available to her, and she ended up with more independence and say in her own day-to-day life than any of the other wives had

#maybe she wasn't as free as a modern woman with an education and a job and the right to pick her own spouse

#but she was way better off than the other wives, except maybe Catherine of Aragon before Henry turned on her

#But Catherine got betrayed and her heart broken, and died alone without even the company of her beloved daughter

#Anne Boleyn left a magnificent legacy, true, but didn't even get to see her adored baby girl grow up

#Jane Seymour got a horribly painful death, worse than Anne Boleyn's if you ask me, and barely got to hold the son she gave her life for

#Catherine Howard, poor lamb, was treated as a toy and a sex object all her short life, and then murdered for it

#And Katherine Parr had to endure Henry at his worst, and just as she survived and got her chance to hope for love, she found out her chosen husband was using her to get a chance to molest her stepdaughter, and then she died in agony, cursing her husband's name.

#so yeah, she might not have had total freedom or everything she wanted, but if I had to choose one of them to be, it's Anna of Cleves all the way. At least she got a long, comfortable life, surrounded by friends (including Henry)- she appears to have been a warm, genial person that other people found quite pleasant to be around- and able to indulge her hobbies and socialize happily as she pleased.

Me coming out of my blanket

If this reaches 1 note, I will draw a frog.

If this reaches 10 notes, I will draw a bigger frog.

You can figure out the math from there

Some frogs for your efforts

Bigger

Gonna have to reach 1,000 for the next frog friendo

We're not gonna reach 10,000 at this rate

219 until next frog

:3

more. frogs. now

122 until next frog

The mighty building frog could scream out at any second, ending the lives of millions.

Reach 10k for next frog

If we reach 100 million notes (which we won't), I'll reveal who I'm the alt account of.

Shame, we won't even reach 10k it seems.

Next frog shall remain a mystery.

NOOOOO I AWAIT FROGAGEDDON

Unless this post gets crazy popular again, whether by another blaze or getting noticed by the Tumblr gods, your Frogageddon shalt not pass and my hands shall remain away from the art table

Big frog lurks in the oceans

Reach 100k for next frog.

One of the weirdest thing about growing up suicidal is that you assume you have no future, you don’t even try to envision it because you see no point. So eventually, you start assuming everyone else sees nothing in your future either. Recently, my friend and I were talking and she said something about how at her wedding I could wear a suit or a dress as long as it matched her bridesmaid’s dresses because the butler of honor has to make a good impression. This hit me so hard because I had never realized before how other people thought about me. She said it so casually like it wasn’t even a hard decision, just a given fact. She loves me so much she saw me at her wedding, standing with her on one of the most important days of her life. And you know what? There are so many people who think about you that way. If that isn’t proof that you should keep going I don’t know what is.

This is called a sense of foreshortened future and it is also very common in traumatized people, particularly in cases involving long-term abuse or the death of a loved one.

This post is making the rounds again so I wanted to add an update. I kept going, despite all of the times it felt impossible. It was absolutely worth it. I struggled for many years with this feeling, and even when not actively wishing to die I often just assumed my life would end.

I wrote a digital time capsule when I was 14, about the same time I made this post. I described what I wished I could have one day but felt like it would never happen. It was simple, my own place, potted plants, a cat. It’s been seven years and I have everything I wanted and so much more. I have a job I love, a partner who lights up my world, best friends I see every day, and I’m about to finish my bachelor’s and start my master’s degree. I have this life I am so grateful for because instead of succumbing to this feeling of nothingness, I decided if there was nothing I would make something to replace it.

Make plans for yourself, even if you don’t believe they’ll happen make them anyway. If they don’t happen you’ve lost nothing, if they do (spoiler alert they can and will!) then you have amazing things coming to fruition.

Don’t give up on or avoid therapy and medication. They can change your life, and if you have tried before and found it ineffective please don’t give up on it all. I had lots of trial and error before I found the meds I needed, and now they help me live a full life and I don’t rely on them as heavily.

Reach out to your family, friends, and communities. Do not try to go it alone because it is 1000 times harder and it doesn’t have to be. If you have a dream, no matter how small, pursue it. I mean it! I started giving myself a sense of life by decorating my bedroom. You do have a future even if you can’t see it through the fog. Light up a lantern and keep going! You will find your happiness.

If you share this post please share and encourage the sharing of this version. While I respect people’s need to express their feelings of hopelessness, I am getting an influx of messages, tags, and activity where commenters reaffirm in themselves that it will never get better, life is hopeless, and that this post just confirms their state of mind. That is not the effect I wished to make with this post in 2018 and it isn’t in 2024. The point of my original post was that despite the feeling, you are not alone, you exist, you are seen and wanted, and your depression is the thing barring you from happiness. You don’t have to magically overcome hopelessness, but please consider the impact of reaffirming hopelessness to myself and others online. You have the right to share the words I posted, but I would be grateful if you shared all of them.

i hauve a cold

This might be Derek Guy's greatest masterpiece.

(The Twitter thread is probably easier to read and easier to look at the images, but I wanted to make sure it got preserved. Images are the tweets.)

(Continued in reblog)

(continued in reblog)

End thread.

Reblog In 5 seconds for good luck

​this worked last night lets go for round two

I really need some good luck rn

PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE

I took that sugar cube as a child. I also remember the March of Dimes sign on the easel at many stores, all with dimes stuck on them.

I've told this story more than once, and I'm telling it again because it changed my life. When I was a kid I was terrified of needles, and hated getting all my shots. I was a sick kid with a lot of undiagnosed disabilities, and my gramp picked up on the anxiety I had and decided to talk to me about it. He offered to take me to get my flu shot for a christmas gift that year, and when I grumbled about getting a flu shot he said, "well, I had scarlet fever when I was your age. My parents didn't believe in doctors so I wasn't allowed to get my shots, and so I got very sick and almost died."

It stopped me in my tracks. I was 6. I had heard from adults my whole life that shots were important, but I didn't really understand the consequences of not getting them. I asked him to tell me why his parents didn't believe in doctors. He said he grew up out in the midwest on a farm, and his parents were "a type of christian" that believed people got sick because god wanted them to get sick, and going to the doctor was going against what god wanted. His parents were terrified of making god angry, which was something I could understand considering I was raised evangelical. But I was confused because he HADN'T died. I asked him how he'd made it this far if he had never been allowed to go to the doctor and he'd been so sick.

And he told me that when he turned 15 he'd run away from home, hopped on a train that took him all the way up to New York, and started asking door to door where he could get these new vaccines he'd heard about. Everyone told him the air force base was the place to go. He went in, asked around, and got his vaccines. At 16, he had his very first annual physical. Shortly after he met my gram, who was the telephone operator for the doctors office he went to every year for his checkups. And he told me as we sat there in the doctor's office that he was the ONLY person on both sides of his family to live past the age of 60.

I was both horrified and amazed. I went in, got my shot, and he held my hand and said he was proud of me because what I was doing was important. I was still very scared of needles, but it was easier to deal with the sore arm knowing I was keeping myself safe. He lived to be 90 years old, and he was proud to be the first person in his assisted living facility to be vaccinated for covid. When we went to visit him for his 90th birthday just before he died I asked him what he was proud of doing now that he was 90, and he said he was proud of living this long because as a child no one believed anyone could survive the things he could. He said he was perfectly happy to have married, had kids and grandkids, and eat his Applebees knowing he'd cheated death 15 times over.

An opinion piece I photographed from an 1860s small press periodical from Hartford Connecticut.

Get your fucking vaccinations.

reblog to send three ghosts after elon musk

#each rb is an additional three ghosts right

The three ghosts:

so can we start hunting down white liberals now or what

The full picture is even more heart breaking after you open the uncropped version. Just a heads-up, it's rough

Nah let’s post it. Let’s feel it. Don’t look away.

I notice alot of my followers on here skipping these posts just to mess with my lgbt ones, suspiciously the white popular ones.

Heres a not so friendly reminder, as an lgbt metis person, i dont give a single fuck what your blog is themed or if this is too painful for you to look at. Reblog this post. Reblog this post with the sources of the 751 children who were found.

Your compliance and silence as well as the compliance and silence of your ancestors is what allowed these schools to open and kill first nations children. The children of MY people.

Dont follow me if you cant reblog this post or the one with sources to your political blog or your most popular blog. Add trigger warnings if you must but if your political blog is only focused on the harms you personally face like being lgbt then you need to see some bigger pictures and stop being afraid of angering your racist mutural or actually saying some shit about racism. If you can reblog some antifa graphics or add blm to your bio to be a surface level ally, you can reblog some sources on the genocide first nations people faced and still face today.

They were CHILDREN.

They were murdered in cold blood.

I’d like to add this photo I took last night in Victoria of the statue of Captain Cook. Though I myself am not indigenous, I 100% agree that these murderers, kidnappers and rapists shouldn’t have huge statues and plaques that decorate them and say how “great” they were.

Here’s another photo of the legislative assembly from yesterday. Later on there were more items, candles and signs at the memorial, as well as a big poster with 1505 painted on it but I didn’t get a picture

People need to see this. Not just quickly glance at the photos and keep on scrolling. They need to see this.

Reblog this or just stop following me

I had seen the first picture of the church, but not the second.

I went to a “Cancel Canada Day” event and burst into tears - not because I was surprised to learn of the unmarked graves (survivors told us they were there. Our government pushed it aside, and we let them), but because seeing all the people gathered in mourning drove it home: They. Were. Children.

This is my country’s legacy - and it’s not history. The last schools closed during my lifetime. My Father went to school with students who lived at the local residential school, after it was changed to a boarding house (read: holding centre) for indigenous youth who went to local schools.

They were all children, injured, abused, and killed in my country’s attempt to erase them. I want the world to see this and hold the state accountable to *active* reconciliation> I mean we could at least truly adopt UNDRIP in action instead of words for god’s sake.

here you can read an article about a survivor of the church and some of the things he experienced to help put into perspective how awful and just how recent it was

this is the memorial at the vancouver art gallery. 215+ pairs of children’s shoes (as well as stuffed toys and flowers) cover the steps…

I can never feel free as a queer person until the indigenous peoples are free.

NOT FREE UNTIL EVERYONE IS FREE! DO NOT LOOK AWAY DO NOT BE SILENT!

This comic essay is really good in its explanation of indeginous Canadian Inuit exploitation and the colonial oppression for industrialization is still applied

*if it changes every time or something, just go with your immediate instinct

425314

413524

Reblog so she lives forever.

REBLOG THE CHRISTMAS OTTER IN 10 SECONDS FOR BOUNTIFUL GIFTS AND A MERRY CHRISTMAS

I would have reblogged this without the hope of bountiful gifts and a merry christmas

"Creaming is essential, it's why we're all here"

This man has raised innuendo to whole new levels of shameless outrageousness. 😄.

World's most divorced man becomes first human to be alienated from both biological and digital children.

Continue✨ Keep going✨

Thank you, lady 🤗

The Nigerian accent. God. She reminds me of home...

Always grateful when this makes the rounds

Thank you, ma'am. I needed that.