MARC HAT TRICK BEFORE HALF TIME LETS FUCKING GOOOOOO. I LOVE MY TEAM, I LOVE THIS CLUB, LIGHT THE COUNTRY

season 8 we’ll finally get the answer 🙏

“what’s going on with buckley and diaz” a question we’ve been trying to answer for six seasons

Sure,I guess in their world Sarina Wiegman does not exist…

SHE did it FIRST and SHE did it BETTER.

If someone followed my line of sight like this to force-keep the eye contact I'd kiss them just to force-break it jus sayin

THE WSL IS BACK!!!!! So happy to be at the Chelsea match tonight 😌💙💙

I’ve been to more funerals than weddings.

For a long time all I could think about was, “please dear god, don’t let me have to bury anyone else. I can’t handle it.”

but I did, somehow. for the eighteen years I’ve spent alive, I’ve buried loved one after loved one with no reprise wondering when would I ever catch a break. The answer is.. well never.

I’ve always dreaded funerals, I’ve never been good at saying goodbye. It’s too permanent, too real, and some part of my brain cannot comprehend that I won’t see this person again.

It doesn’t feel real, I wonder if it ever will.

I try to think of funerals now as a way of celebrating someone’s life, rather than losing them to whatever comes next. It provides little solace for the hole they leave behind, but a small comfort nonetheless.

I look forward to the day I can think about them and not have my breath hitch, the panic setting in, and think of them fondly without breaking down. maybe that future will never come for me.

Lucy Bronze in a Chelsea shirt almost had me crying last night, she looks so good 😭

my family, especially my parents, love to scream at me, “I’m the third parent.”

maybe in a way I am. for the last five, almost six years, I was thrust into a role I never wanted. when I was supposed to be merely their sister, I had to become something of a parent to my siblings.

I changed nappies, I wiped away their tears, I gave them comforting hugs when something happened, I’m the one who cheers them on from the sidelines, I made sure they were awake and had eaten breakfast, I got them to school, I make sure they’ve eaten and get to bed, and have done their homework. It was me, who went to the parent-teacher conferences, me who went in when they had problems at school to sort them out and talk to teachers. It was me who sat with the oldest of my younger siblings, talking her through 6th form and her choices and results day, and now universities. It’s still me who does all of this.

so yeah, am I a third parent in the family? you could probably say that. but it was never something I chose, never something I wanted. It was just a role I had to fill, to keep some semblance of normal, and keep my crumbling home life together.

MARC FOR A SECOND!!!! UP THE CHELSSSS. GIMME A HAT TRICK KING 💙💙💙

I’ve known death since the minute I was born, and though the fact is somewhat dark; I think of death as an old friend. He provides a comfort to those I have loved so dearly that living could no longer give them. I choose to think of death as a positive thing, rather than something to be feared. It is inevitable, and one day I will meet him too.

sometimes I scare myself with the anger that lies within me. It sits dormant, waiting for the time to rise and make itself known. and when it does, it consumes me and comes out in angry heaving sobs as I gasp to scream what I’ve kept hidden underneath the surface for so long. I can’t remember the last time I was angry and shouted without crying. without the ensuing meltdown that typically follows. maybe it is never truly anger I feel, not wholly anyways. It’s tainted by other emotions, other feelings.

maybe this makes me bitter, at least I think it does to some degree. It scares me how angry I can be sometimes, how much rage I have within me. angry at the people around me, at the world, at the circumstances I am presented with, as I cling to the mere notion it has to be some sort of higher power surely testing me. for what I’m not sure, maybe I’ll never know. maybe I don’t want to.