Video wird geladen...

Video konnte nicht geladen werden

Zur Startseite

Laddu will not come back. Two years old. Soft curls. Curious eyes. A laugh that had just begun to learn the world. We failed her quietly. First, with dirty water that should have been clean. Then, with a small card that should have been made. A name that promises...

87,440 Aufrufe • vor 7 Monaten •via X (Twitter)

0 Kommentare

Keine Kommentare verfügbar

Kommentare vom Original-Post werden hier angezeigt

Ähnliche Videos

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖂𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝕹𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝕿𝖔 𝕰𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖕𝖊 The light over the sink was the color of a held breath. She stood there long enough for the tap to stop dripping and the house to go quiet around her, as if even the walls had decided to watch. Steam ghosted the glass, then thinned, and two angels looked at each other through what was left. One of them was wounded. Her wings, if they had ever been wings, hung wrong. Not broken in the pretty way stories like to paint. Broken in the living way. A shoulder drawn in. A mouth that remembered how to smile and no longer trusted the reflex. There was a mark violence leaves that no one else can point to and still she felt it, a wound under the skin. She had survived the night and then survived every morning after it, which is a second violence nobody counts. Across the glass the other angel was whole. Same face. Same bones. A version of her that still believed a room was only a room. Her hair fell the way it used to, easy, unguarded. Her eyes had not yet learned to measure a doorway or a tone of voice that changes too fast. She looked back with a brightness so intact it felt like a door slammed on a hymn. The wounded one wanted to hate her for it. She wanted to fall into her. She wanted to warn her. She could do none of those things. The glass would not allow passage. Time would not either. They stared until the air between them felt heavy. This was not one woman and her reflection. This was a threshold. Before and after occupying the same small bathroom, breathing the same cheap soap, refusing to blink first. She lifted her hand. The whole one lifted the same hand, a heartbeat late, as if memory had to catch up with the echo. Fingertips found the cold. Two lives met and failed to touch. The glass held them apart with a cruelty so ordinary it almost passed for furniture. Speak, the wounded one thought, though she did not know which of them she meant. The whole angel had no language for what was coming. That was her holiness and her helplessness. She could only remain as proof. Proof that there had been a self before the theft. Proof that the woman on this side of the glass was not a different creature, only a life interrupted and forced to continue. Something in the wounded angel’s chest tore and then... impossibly... kept beating. She didn't smash the mirror. People who have already been shattered learn the cost of breaking more glass. She looked until the two faces burned into one another: the girl who walked into the world unarmored, and the woman who walked out of the dark carrying her name like a lit match in a wind. When she finally turned from the sink, the whole angel did not vanish. She came too, folded into the wounded one the way a former country lives inside an exile. Not as a ghost. As a claim. Nearly 1 in 3 women on earth will stand at some version of this glass. The World Health Organization names it without poetry: physical violence, sexual violence, or both, at least once in a lifetime. Hundreds of millions. In the United States the numbers do not grow kinder. About 1 in 4 women report completed or attempted rape. Older national counts still used by survivor networks say 1 in 6. Most never see a courtroom. Most already know the face. The world prefers the whole angel in the glass. The world is less eager to look at the one who had to keep living in silence. I am one of these angels and so are many others. 💫This post is dedicated to all the other angels who remember like it was yesterday.

Lj Priest (Trader Jill)

18,361 Aufrufe • vor 11 Tagen

in the wise words of taylor swift, “a man is allowed to react, a woman can only overreact.” they cut the camera to her while she was still in shock & she took a sip of her drink. that is not even a reaction. this whole situation has blown out of proportion throughout the media. you’d think things would’ve gotten better for women in the past five years since she said this, but that’s not the case. this has made one thing abundantly clear, women are not allowed to react when they are blatantly disrespected. even if they don’t react, they’re still overreacting, since there is this perpetuating stereotype that women are “dramatic & emotional.” she’s just sitting there trying to enjoy her night that she was attending because of HER accomplishments & the records she broke with her movie about her life-changing, record-smashing tour. yet, she was only mentioned once, only ten minutes in, to be devalued to her relationship & to poke fun at the ways the media has been tormenting her for years. you can not tell me that is funny. she’s been through hell throughout her career, she’s heard these jokes a million times—she’s over it. she shouldn’t have to laugh at a joke that offended her to appease anyone. personally, i’m extremely proud of her for not feeling it was necessary to be a people pleaser & laugh, which is what she typically would’ve done int the past. that shows growth, that shows that she finally recognizes her worth. she finally realized that she doesn’t have to put up being painfully disrespected. she’s allowed to think a rude joke isn’t funny, it just made her uncomfortable. if she looks uncomfortable, it means he crossed the line, regardless of if you think it was funny or not. it’s evident that this was an under reaction. she kept her composure & responded to the situation perfectly. however, even though she responded perfectly, she’s still getting tremendous amounts of hate for this. this makes it abundantly clear that men in this society will always have it out for women who are successful—especially when that success was created all on their own, since women are not allowed to be successful in their eyes. that is blatant misogyny, just like the joke they think she is a horrible person for not laughing at. of course they think the joke was funny, they’re a bunch of misogynists themselves.

kira ♡

658,018 Aufrufe • vor 2 Jahren

Prayer warriors, please stop and stand with us. LHGrey™️ was taken back to the hospital last night. The large tear opened wide again, and around 2 am the pain woke her so fiercely that Julie had to rush her to the ER. She is in very bad shape. What weighs even heavier is the place her heart has reached. She has fought this for so long that the fight itself feels unbearable. Today she said her spirit is dead. She said she cannot keep living like this for much longer. Those words land like a stone. This is not exaggeration. She is exhausted, hurting, and close to giving up. Please pray that God’s angels would surround her, that hope would find her in the dark, and that healing, body and spirit, would come. If Tom MacDonald reach her with a word of strength, now is the time. Father, We come to You for her. You see the tear in her body and the deeper tear in her spirit. You heard her say she cannot go on like this. Meet her there. Do not let the night have the last word. Send Your angels to stand at her bedside. Quiet the pain that steals her sleep. Knit what has torn. Breathe life back into a spirit that feels dead. Give her a reason to fight one more hour, then one more day. Let her know she is not abandoned, not forgotten, not alone in this room. Hold Julie as she watches and waits. Give the doctors wisdom. And if it is Your will, restore her, fully, gently, soon. We ask this in the name of Jesus, who bore suffering and rose. Amen.

Lj Priest (Trader Jill)

25,902 Aufrufe • vor 3 Tagen

She Was Only 9... But She Saved Her Baby Brother Las Vegas, Nevada. Nine-year-old Janiya was sitting at home holding her baby brother during an interview. She looked calm. Soft-spoken. Just a child. But what she had just survived was something no child should ever face. A few days earlier, she and her baby brother were outside when a stranger approached them. At first, nothing seemed unusual. Then suddenly, everything changed. The man tried to take them. Janiya said her heart started beating very fast. Her baby brother began to cry. In that moment, fear rushed through her body - but something stronger rose up too. "I just kept thinking... I have to protect him," she said. She held her brother tightly against her chest. Instead of freezing, she paid attention. She watched the man carefully. She looked for a chance to get away. When he became distracted for just a second, Janiya didn't wait. She ran. as her legs could carry her. She didn't care if she fell. She didn't care if she got tired. She only cared about getting her brother somewhere safe. She ran to the nearest home and knocked hard on the door. When someone opened it, she cried for help. That one brave decision changed everything. Police were called. The suspect was later arrested. Officers said her quick thinking likely prevented something much worse. But when people call her a hero, she shakes her head. "I'm just the big sister," she says quietly. She is only nine. But she showed courage, strength, and love beyond her years. Because real bravery isn't about being fearless. It is about being scared... and still choosing to run toward safety. And that day in Las Vegas, a little girl holding her baby brother proved that heroes don't always wear capes. Sometimes... They just hold on tight and refuse to let go. 🙏

G-MA & G-PA

36,817 Aufrufe • vor 7 Monaten