You Don’t Have To Call Me Out Like That! 

Reno Gazette-Journal, Nevada, September 16, 1950

It honestly amazes me how many of my friends and women I know would love to be homemakers but they are embarrassed to admit it. Its sad that it is assumed that all women should want to be “hustlers” and “boss ladies” and wanting to being a homemaker is seen as outdated and having a lack of ambition. 

I’ll admit that I’m a little shy talking about my true goals sometimes, but when I get to connect with another woman who shares the same aspirations it really means so much to me. 

*Just want to make it clear that I’m not hating on women who have career goals. I love and support them too! 

Happy trans visibility to all the amazing trans guys, trans gals, non-binary folk, genderfluid friends, and any other trans identities! You guys are awesome <3

We see you. You matter. [March 31]

1950s Housewife Aesthetic

most tradfems are also truly feminists.. as long as you truly believe in equality not that women should have more privileges than men. The only reason some women out there denounce feminism is because it's gotten to that point now in a lot of situations these days in a manipulative manor.

also I should add I have met gay and bisexual tradfems too.. otherwise it just means Traditionally Feminine. does this mean you are masculine? ?

most tradwives would consider me masculine, yeah. I’m not submissive, I have a job, haven’t shaved my legs in over a decade, can be rather crass.

the way other people identify is none of my business. gay and bi and pagan and liberal tradfems are welcome to claim that title. I do not wish to be categorized as a tradwife/tradfem.

🧺 an announcement 🧺

I love to wear dresses. aprons, too. I fill their pockets up with rocks and herbs from the garden. I want to bake bread, have babies, sew buttons, mend socks, bring my family’s clothes outside in a great big basket and hang them on the line to dry.

but please, do not mistake my appreciation for the old ways of living for a desire to return to a time when the non-white and/or non-male population didn’t have rights.

lately I have been getting an influx of followers and/or suggested posts which look, at first, similar to me and mine… but when you look closely, they are rife with anti-choice and thinly veiled misogyny under the guise of “cottagecore” and “simple living” and all that.

I am not one of you. I would kindly ask that you please not reblog pictures of my body, my gardens, my home, or my poetry to a blog that is centered around the romanticization and glorification of oppression. this is a body that desires freedom and autonomy. these gardens nourish that body, in our home with two heads. my observations about my life are my own - I am happy to share them, but they were never meant to be statements about the way anyone else ought to live.

if you’re still reading and this doesn’t apply to you, thank you, and hi. happy you’re here!

Oh my, I believe this qualifies as “relationship goals” <3

I finally watched The Sound of Music and like I get it now, I get it. 

It’s a beautiful two hour love story of a strict man finally opening his heart again and then a fifty minute public service announcement to hate the nazis. Brilliant.

Home Mothers & Working Mothers are both valid.

you can do either one and still love your children with all your heart~

if you don't do anything else today,

Please have a moment of silence for the people who were killed instead of freed when news of emancipation finally reached the furthest corners of the american south.

have another moment for the ledgers, catalogs, and records that were burned and the homes that were destroyed to hide the presence of very much alive and still enslaved people on dozens of plantations and homesteads across the south for decades after emancipation.

and have a third moment for those who were hunted and killed while fleeing the south to find safety across the border, overseas, in the north and to the west.

black people. light a candle, write a note to those who have passed telling them what you have achieved in spite of the racist and intolerant conditions of this world, feel the warmth of the flame under your hand, say a prayer of rememberance if you are religious, place the note under the candle, and then blow it out.

if you have children, sit them down and tell them anything you know about the life of oldest black person you've ever met. it doesn't have to be your own family. tell them what you know about what life was like for us in the days, years, decades after emancipation. if you don't know much, look it up and learn about it together.

This is Juneteenth.

white people CAN interact with this post. share it, spread it.