today there was a snowboard race at the resort i’m staying at and i’m a pretty decent snowboarder so i thought why not try right. so i wear all black just because it’s the only color i own and i ended up winning and when the announcer came over to me he said “dude! that was pretty awesome bro, what’s your name?” and i took my helmet off like in the movies and let my hair fall out and was like “caitlin” and everyone was liKE OOOOOOH
Anonymous asked: 16 year old Ryan and Chelsie? :) :)
Haha, here you go. You hit the gold mine this time! I included a timeline of us in photos together….because I seriously adore this guy and it made me so happy to look at all these photos again. Hope you don’t mind. :)
We started out two little silly pies.
And then we met as those awkward 11 and 12 year olds
And then I started liking him back….and he asked my dad’s permission to take me to homecoming and give me my first kiss. I was 16 and he was 15. We were definitely awkward here. :)
And then he turned 16 and I turned 17 the next year :)
And then the next year when I turned 18 and he turned 17 :)
Then we went overseas together and we decided we knew marriage was in the future.
And then I cut my hair all off and turned 19 and graduated with my AA and went away to college
And then I figured out how madly in love with Ryan I was and came home and he graduated college and my hair started getting long again
And then Ryan went away at school and was poor and lived in his car for a while and I used to drive to meet him at Starbucks an hour away and we fell in love all over again in that little Starbucks and it was wonderful.
And then he proposed when he was 19 and I was 20
and then we got married on the most beautiful day of my life… only a few months later…..because, in our hearts, we knew we were always meant to be together since we were 12 years old.
and now we are married and it was the greatest decision we ever made.
and there’s is the beginning of our adventure together. (and if you’re still following me after this ridiculous overload of Chelsie & Ryan photos, I will love you forever :)
Look around your college classroom, spot the virgins.
See, this seems like a game until you skip over the girl with a short skirt and hair in front of her eyes because you heard last summer that she slept with like nineteen guys. You can’t see her hands, but they’re under the table, pulling a rosary through her fingers as she tries to wash the sin off her. She’s only ever kissed three people in her whole life and they’re all girls. She turned down the wrong guy and he told everyone she’s “a whore.” The label “slut” stuck to the bottom of her shoe and swallowed her up.
But that quiet girl who is always reading probably never touched someone else’s penis, you figure, because you don’t know that she goes home and strips down and pulls on tight black leather, you don’t know she’s got a set of whips that could make any set of knees quiver, you don’t know because she’s proud of what she does but she’s not stupid enough to let anyone know about it. She’s sexy, just not here, not where people judge.
See, the truth is: you have no idea who has lost their virginity, because it doesn’t change you. It doesn’t give you some kind of glow or superpower or stamp on your forehead. You know the feeling of waking up on your birthday and thinking “I don’t feel any older whatsoever”? That’s what maybe they’re all so afraid of you finding out: sex doesn’t change you. Sex doesn’t make you an animal, sex doesn’t suddenly make your relationship a million times more stable or intimate or romantic - it can’t fix what’s broken, although it can make the pain go away for a bit. Sex doesn’t really occur with eighty tea lights and a thick white rug. Sex is ugly and loud and frequently awkward, sex is excellent and breathtaking and when you wake up the next morning, you’re the exact same person. There’s not some magical connection with the person in bed beside you. Believe it or not, pregnancy isn’t some kind of punishment - but practice safe sex, get tested, don’t spread your germs around. They want to tell you, “Sex can ruin you” and I’ve heard that a lot as a little girl, that some boy would join me under my sheets and then dump me four days after, used, unhappy.
But I figured out that I’m not a fucking toy. Letting someone have sex with me is not letting them “use” me, because I’m not an object. My father said the issue lay in the fact “Men are insecure and need to know that they’re the best you ever had,” but I think that’s a steaming crock of absolute-wrong and if I didn’t tell the people I’m with how many others I’d slept beside, there would be literally no way for them to know my number, because I don’t rust, I don’t wear out, I don’t get bruised. I’m not a wilting fruit, I don’t go rotten.
But here’s the thing: some people connect sex and emotion. I don’t personally because I am probably secretly an ice storm in disguise, but I still respect my partner’s desires. If they’re the type to want love and sex to coincide, I let them. I don’t make fun, I don’t pull one-night-stands or friends-with-benefits, because it’s not their “reputation” I’m afraid for: it’s their heart I’m defending.
Here’s the thing: Instead of worrying about people’s “purity” and how it defines them as a person, worry instead about how you can protect other people’s emotions.
Because here’s the thing: look around your room and spot the virgins. Look harder. You can’t tell. Sex doesn’t alter people, it doesn’t make them act in a certain way nor dress in a certain manner. Sex and personality have nothing to do with each other. There’s a reason that virginity doesn’t show on someone’s face: because having sex doesn’t cause you to change."
I never noticed she drew people surrounding the flower
Wow, I didn’t notice it either. I am a disgrace to my own people.