mel-heisler-is-a-bad-friend:

bigbardafree:

the thing about being someone who’s never catcalled is that you start to wonder why like is it because im ugly???

and then you realize that youre judging your worth by whether or not you are objectifiable to a man and thats so fucked up like honestly its so fucked up 

but the worst part about the patriarchy is that it still sits at the back of your mind regardless like “nobody thinks youre pretty because they dont see you as a sex object” like somehow thats a desirable thing and it fucks me up

I’ve wondered this my whole life. I always thought there was something wrong with me because I never got catcalled

redbellied-piranha:

trishathebrown:

vypera:

trishathebrown:

Oh, that beautiful woman there? The one decked out in gorgeous Indian attire? The one coolly ignoring all the racist slurs and utterances of horror crawling along the walls of some godforsaken Waffle House? The one who could not give less of a damn if someone gapes at her audacity to bask in the glory of her culture?

That’s my mother. Hell yes, I’m proud.

I don’t understand how a fucking waffle house is demeaning.
Oh, you mean the white people behind you and your mother? I get it, dude. “Lets scrape together some bullshit story to sell to SJWs for attention”. This shit works almost too well.

You are actually not the first person to voice this sort of sentiment, so I will try to further explain the context of this picture, and you may decide for yourself if you want to believe me. 

 My entire family was traveling that day to a far-off venue for an Indian ceremony, and we stopped at Waffle House for a bite to eat. My mother and I were dressed similarly in ornate Indian outfits called “lehengas,” and my father and brother were dressed in regular Western clothes (nice pants and shirts). My father and brother entered first to get us a table, and it was after my mother and I went in that the atmosphere changed considerably. Normal conversation died down to a quiet buzz, and the other customers viewed us with a medley of expressions ranging from surprise, to confusion, to disgust, to scorn. Only a group of black women openly admired our outfits, and they absolutely gave me a huge boost in much-needed confidence. 

The man whose face you see behind my mother was responsible for making comments regarding “fucking immigrants” and “goddamn terrorists dressed like clowns.” His commentary was met with quiet murmurs of agreement from his table-mates, and he spent the rest of the time balefully looking either at me or the back of my mother’s head. Upon encountering such hostility, I whispered to my mother that maybe we should leave and eat elsewhere. Her response? “You have nothing to be ashamed of. They mock us because they do not understand us.” 

And with that, she sat down with a smile and cheerfully gave the waitress her order. 

 I posted this photo as a testament to my mother’s dignity and unwavering pride. She is a living, breathing inspiration and I cannot explain how much that one day helped build my resolve to remain true to my culture and roots despite possible adversity. I posted this image for neither notes nor followers, but the abundant existence of those aspects proves that many people understand the reality of the situation. Of course, whether you believe this or not is entirely your predilection. All you have to go on is my word, but I have said all that I feel is necessary. 

 Thank you for your time.

Like do they not know that a Waffle House is the hot spot for redneck backwoods bigoted white folks ? The story is 100% believable.

Source: trishathebrown