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illuminatedquill · 3 years

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Nevertheless, Episode 9

More Thoughts/Analysis

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”

- E.A. Bucchianeri

Jae Eon’s Self Sabotage

Chekov’s Gun is the dramatic principle that details within a story will contribute to the overall narrative. You might have heard of this before in its simplest form: if there is a gun shown in Act 1, it absolutely must go off in Act 2 or 3. In episode 9 of Nevertheless, we have this scene right at the beginning:

Yes, that scene. Park Jae Eon sees Yang Do Hyeok standing off to the side as he waits outside Na Bi’s apartment to retrieve his stuff. Na Bi doesn’t know Do Hyeok is nearby. Jae Eon makes the calculation in his head and manipulates his way inside Na Bi’s apartment, knowing exactly what it looks like to Do Hyeok. It’s petty revenge for seeing Na Bi and Do Hyeok together on campus from earlier.

This is the gun. And it backfires on Jae Eon big time. Throughout the entire episode, his acts of sincerity towards Na Bi seem genuine and heartfelt, yet his action in that one scene undermines anything he attempts. It doesn’t work; to his mounting frustration, Na Bi and Do Hyeok continue to talk and meet as if nothing happened.

(We know that’s not the case as seen from Do Hyeok’s alone time but I’ll talk about that later in this post.)

It’s a ticking time bomb and it goes off at last in the rain scene. Nothing is working for him. He is desperate not to lose Na Bi. And he goes off in a drunken rage on Na Bi after she returns home on that fateful rainy night.

And he loses her. The gun goes off. Everything sincere he did turns rotten in Na Bi’s eyes after he reveals his actions. Actions have consequences, always rippling forward and affecting change in moments not yet experienced. He ruined his chances because of his petty cruelty towards Do Hyeok in the beginning. His sincerity only extended towards Na Bi and it was only to get her attention once more.

Jae Eon lost. Not so much to Do Hyeok, as he lost to Na Bi, who cares about him deeply. He underestimated her feelings towards Do Hyeok, assuming, like so many other viewers, that he was an an irritating distraction that refused to go away.

He can’t fathom why Do Hyeok still seems to like Na Bi after seeing them enter her apartment together. Is he really that incredible a person? What makes him so special?

Well, let’s talk about it.

Do Hyeok’s Crisis Playbook

We see from Do Hyeok’s time alone after his initial visit to Seoul that he is taking it pretty hard; I can’t really blame him, considering what he saw that night. His struggle is open, honest, and raw; like Na Bi, it affects him to the point that he can’t focus on his work (anyone seem to notice that Jae Eon’s work never seems to be affected by his feelings?).

It’s jealousy and insecurity eating away at him. Just like Jae Eon. He’s also desperate not to lose Na Bi but doesn’t want to do anything untoward or overboard because he’s afraid of ruining their friendship. Once again, his consideration is for Na Bi and how she feels, but he cannot ignore what he saw and how he feels about it.

So, what is our favorite Potato Boy to do? Park Jae Eon already made his move by staging that whole scene of him and Na Bi going into her apartment together. How does Do Hyeok fight back? What’s his playbook in this time of crisis?

He doesn’t fight back. And that’s how he stays in the game. Do Hyeok is not a player like Jae Eon; there isn’t a manipulative or deceptive bone in his body. Do Hyeok does what he always does and doubles down on his sincerity, on the strength of his feelings, and his faith in Na Bi.

Do Hyeok doesn’t play the game Jae Eon tries to involve him in. He always lays it all out on the table with Na Bi so there is no room for misunderstandings. That’s one of the reasons why their relationship works so well; they talk more. Not just about feelings or romance but about school or their day to day life. What they’re building now is something that can last a lifetime.

So he talks to her about it. And admits his jealousy. She wasn’t even aware that he had seen them and yet it sounds like he’s the one who is apologizing (even though he never let his hurt feelings show in his conversations with Na Bi, DO HYEOK YOU ARE TOO GOOD). He lays himself bare to her once more. We don’t see Na Bi’s response other than her shocked and guilty expression, which is annoying because it would definitely be interesting to see how she reciprocated his frankness.

(Underrated super cute scene between them in this episode; when they meet up at night and bring drinks for each other. It’s even the exact same drink. I was grinning like a maniac.)

But Na Bi is familiar with Jae Eon’s game. And when she finds out how badly Do Hyeok was hurt by Jae Eon’s actions (and how he involved her in it) Na Bi finally is snapped to her senses and severs the thread still binding her and Jae Eon together.

Na Bi’s choice isn’t shown as a redemptive or heroic moment. It never was supposed to be. Although I’m sure a lot of us were cheering in that moment, her moments of unrestrained grief alone afterwards are the sobering reality that love, as always, comes with a price.

Nabi’s Choice (The Review)

This is a follow up to my earlier post before episode 9 came out. So, now we see what Na Bi decides and, maybe, how it will all play out in the next episode (barring any last minute twists).

First, let’s address the still ongoing criticism I see regarding Na Bi and Do Hyeok’s relationship: lack of passion, no romantic vibes, blah blah blah. I wrote at length in a previous post why that isn’t true - at least on Do Hyeok’s part (one of the reasons why we don’t get internal monologue from Do Hyeok is because what else is he thinking about other than Na Bi?).

Na Bi, on the other hand, is still ambivalent about her feelings towards Do Hyeok. Episode 9 provided more clarity for her stance towards Jae Eon - he’s the dog shit she stepped on and was promptly wiped away in the grass - but Do Hyeok is still a mystery. Yes, she’s friendly, she cares, and genuinely enjoys being with him but the spice, the passion is missing. And that is kinda important for a romantic relationship.

Well. Look no more. Na Bi has spice for Do a Hyeok and it shows not once, but twice this episode. Where’s the passion? Jae Eon fucked around and found out. Very kind of him. Turns out Na Bi, like all of us who like Do Hyeok, will not tolerate any Do Hyeok slander and I am 100 PERCENT here for it.

There’s a scene shortly before the climatic rain fight where Na Bi is having another meeting with her assistants: the junior (does he have a name? Jin-su?) and Jae Eon. The junior talks to Na Bi about her and Park Jae Eon: the usual tired gossip of whether or not they’re dating. Na Bi waves it away like dandelion fluff.

And then the junior mentions Do Hyeok. “What about the noodle shop guy? Ever since the camp meeting, people have been saying there’s a higher chance you’re dating him.”

And Na Bi just . . . we’ve never seen this from her before, even when she broke up with Jae Eon in episode 5. Her whole demeanor turns ice cold and her voice is wicked sharp as she proceeds to shut down that avenue of questioning. The junior physically leans back from the force of her anger and wonders aloud why she’s so upset (you’re talking about her love life as gossip, idiot, why do you think she’s so upset). Jae Eon walks in and doesn’t see the foreshadowing; he just hears Do Hyeok and it feeds his jealousy.

There it is, everybody. Evidence of Na Bi’s feelings for Do Hyeok and what he means to her. Her protectiveness over him and her refusal to let him be involved in the drama surrounding herself and Jae Eon. Her desire to be the better around him; not because he asks (and he would never) but because his feelings for her make her think she might be worthy of such a love.

And then there’s the rain scene. Na Bi and Jae Eon, vulnerable in the rain. Na Bi admits to her faults in the relationship, how she brought this upon herself. No, she hasn’t been nice or good this whole time; in fact, she’s been kind of terrible. But Jae Eon revealing what he did and how it was to hurt Do Hyeok wakes her up and convinces that the time has come to end this “game”. It got Do Hyeok hurt because of her inability to end it with Jae Eon and good people don’t let that happen to people they care about.

So Na Bi ends it with Jae Eon and chooses herself. At last. And to do so, she has to cut out this malignant tumor of a relationship and, God, does it hurt so much to end it, but she gets it done and takes the first step to being a better person for herself.

The cinematography in this drama is top tier and we see her situation presented so viscerally. She’s alone, in the light, but it’s not a warm, redemptive light; it has a sickly, yellow tint and is surrounded by darkness.

But she’s still there. She still made it.

One Last Observation, I Promise

Last thing I noticed from this episode that I want to talk about: the professor’s critique of Na Bi. She specifically mentions that a good artist can inspire others and Na Bi, whether she realizes it or not, actually does do that.

Na Bi helps Do Hyeok with his videos, giving advice that helps boost their popularity and making them better.

Jae Eon is inspired to make the butterfly bracelet for Na Bi and gifts it to her.

The difference between the two? Do Hyeok actually thanks Na Bi for her help and points out that it was her influence that made his videos better.

Jae Eon obviously means his gesture to be romantic and sincere but he again fails to talk about why he’s doing it. The implication is there but Na Bi needs more than some vague nonsense.

Communication is at the heart of this episode and how, without it, relationships stagnate and fail. Bit Na + Gyu Hyun and Soljiwan couple - their relationships only progress because the couples voice their concerns and fears to one another. And instead of being rejected or being hurt, it allows their partners to reassure them and move forward with their relationship.

Why do Na Bi and Jae Eon fail? They. Don’t. Talk. Na Bi is stuck inside her head and Jae Eon relies on vague gestures and sexual chemistry to express himself.

Why do Na Bi and Do Hyeok succeed? Because they talk. About everything. Their dialogue is clear and honest and sincere without any hidden meanings or motives. And you see why Na Bi is rapidly moving more and more towards Do Hyeok and not Jae Eon.

(The preview does raise some questions about how it will all end but I don’t think the show is going to pull a bait and switch and have Na Bi end up with Jae Eon. I also don’t think it’s likely they’ll have an open ending, either. I’ll talk about that in another post.)

My next post will be what I envision to be the best version of a Na Bi and Do Hyeok endgame and what I mean by that since Na Bi shouldn’t be dating anyone right now. So, look forward to that.

Until next time, everybody. Thanks for reading this long ass post. Hope you enjoyed it.

#jtbc nevertheless #nevertheless #kdrama #han so hee #chae jong hyeop #song kang #yu na bi #yang do hyeok #park jae eon

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thebeautyofdisorder · 4 years

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The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapter 8

A/N: Okay, sorry it’s been like two weeks since I posted the last chapter. I am such a mess. This is a bit shorter, more of a set up than anything, but informative? I have so many ideas for this, that it took me a minute to figure out in sequence what’s going to happen when.

Pairing: Dracula & Agatha/Zoe, off and on Dracula/OFC

Rating: M, for blood, language, and mercenaries with guns.

Chapters 1-2 Here - Chapter 3 Here - Chapter 4 Here - Chapter 5 Here - Chapter 6 Here - Chapter 7 Here

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE - or enjoy below the cut

Chapter 8

By all accounts he appears as a human man, at varying states of age depending upon how regularly and well he is fed, lingering even at his most satiated at around 45-50 years – presumably the age of his death. His hair is thick and inky black, kept shorter and slicked back when in public view; his nose aquiline and aristocratic; his eyes appear black at a distance but in close quarters and lighting seem to have a dark mossy-brown hue; admirable bone structure, and a mouth that is at times both harsh and jovial depending upon what impression he wishes to put across at the time. His accent is tainted by those of his victims, but always holds a slight thickness and gravel, reminiscent of his native tongue. His teeth, even when not in the state of blood frenzy, still seem longer and sharper than normal, particularly the canines. His fingernails also are long and honed to a point, and seem to be of inhuman durability and sharpness. He is excessively tall and somewhat broad, though of a generally slim build regardless of his bestial strength. No physical deformities upon the rest of his body when in his humanoid state, though his eyes can seem to gleam in the darkness like those of other nocturnal beasts.

When in the presence of human blood, those eyes dilate and become ringed in crimson, and all blunt edges of his teeth sharpen to slight but lethal points. Animalistic tendencies manifest – hissing, snarling, growling, the hunched stance of a predator, etc. Interestingly, he also seems to bare all the normative signs of the common morphine addict – tension, restless movements, irritability, the inability to control his emotions and behavior. He possesses speed the likes of which the human eye can barely detect, but only in small bursts in the midst of attack, by my witness. He was able to manifest a continual fog, as stated earlier in my narrative, and could very well be at fault for the storm swirling in the seas now, as I write. He can deform himself to fit into any small space, one could assume, though I have only seen him do this by defiling the physical forms of other living beings – notably a wolf at the convent, and the late Jonathan Harker, who was also undead at the time. Whether that’s relevant to this ability, I don’t particularly know. He can call wolves and bats to his service, and possibly flies – whether this works with all creatures and he’s merely chosen these for theatrical purposes, or if he’s limited to creatures of darkness and decay, I have yet to discover.

The ‘kiss of the vampire’ is a strong opiate, meaning most victims are often unaware of his bite or the danger they are in until it is too late. He can create and control the dream state in which they enter, often choosing scenarios of an erotic nature. Whether this is for his own amusement or because of the effect it has on the blood, I can only deduce. This method seems to be equally employed through both sexes though I have yet to see any direct indications of intercourse, willing or unwilling. If he possesses a sex drive at all, it is seemingly outranked by his desire to feed.

He is highly intelligent and possesses a biting wit, which in another context might even be endearing, and his charm is carefully honed to attract potential victims. Though his mental weaknesses are notable, including his arrogance, lack of self-awareness, and dependence on his victims to take in and retain key skills and information. As opposed to learning the language of a new land through study, he merely drains one of its countrymen and absorbs their inherent knowledge. This leads to a flurry of unpredictable behavior and reckless death, and also speaks of his impatience and lack of discipline, which has undoubtedly lessened with age. He was, in life, an excellent ruler and even better general with a skill for strategy currently wasted on petty mind games. If he could ever reach a point of managing his appetite for blood and destruction, he could be an invaluable resource - a first-hand witness to the last four hundred years of European history.

I’m sure you will, dear brother, quickly dismiss this as folly, but however much you would like to categorize him as yet another mindless demon from the pit, I assure you he is anything but. He may fear the cross, but don’t think there is a heavenly power that instilled that fear. It reeks of an entirely human weakness. You would do well to remember that, should you run across him or any of his kind in the future. While his existence seems to have been very luck of the draw, it’s nowhere near as anomalous as Dracula himself would like us to believe. Others could have survived and done what he has done. In fact, I could almost guarantee it.

Zoe read through Agatha’s words again, this particular afterward for maybe the twentieth time since she’d found it. Not for any particular information, more over just marveling at the clarity, simplicity, and dare-she-say fondness with which it was written, in comparison to the information she’d been brought up with. Shockingly, the nun was able to more realistically sum up the vampire than any other Van Helsing before or after her (granted, she had the firsthand experience), and with so much less fire and brimstone, religious nonsense. It was half of why she’d spent so long away from ‘the family business’ as it were, until she’d had to take over the institute. Science had always been the only god she would acknowledge.

Whatever logic Agatha had administered from across the pond however, while well used, had been entirely riddled with her elder brother’s showmanship and particularly Catholic brand of fending off the forces of darkness. Agatha may have seen him as the devil incarnate, but that didn’t stop her from acknowledging his humanity – and in that, Zoe couldn’t help but agree. Dracula was very much still a man, no matter how immortal or powerful, and he still had all of man’s other weaknesses, sans physical vulnerabilities. Minor detail.

She supposed it had made it easier for both the zealot and the scientist to see their subject of animosity as no better than a rabid dog that needed to be analyzed and destroyed. But that had never been the case at all. A self-serving lesson to learn, she had to admit, but an important one. So long as he had retained some of his humanity, there was certainly hope for her.

It was the only thing keeping her sane through the mock trial this experiment had turned into. Every turn she was being questioned and analyzed harder than she had since grad school, and yet still regarded as the antagonistic and dangerous party. It was a contradiction that made her genuinely question the mental capacity of her colleagues.

Yes, let's aggravate the person we're terrified of. Honestly.

Their latest critique, however she loathed to admit it, was actually sound. They needed a control. A 'direct contact' feed to compare to her bottled one, and they all knew there was only one vampire to compare to. Clearly they didn't actually expect him to participate, they only wanted to de-legitimize her process.

But it would make an impact, wouldn't it?

-----

It was just before sunset, traces of red just beginning to seep onto the surface of the sun, and for the first time in a great while, Count Dracula was unenthused. He was beginning to be rather fond of daylight, even if it came with certain disadvantages, as he was beginning to discover. Perhaps vampires were better off as creatures of the night after all.

Most if not all of his preternatural abilities were greatly weakened by the sun, though why he wasn't sure. It made him feel languid and slow, which was perfectly fine for an afternoon on the beach, but highly inconvenient when he got hungry and none of his more willing resources were available. Physical conditioning or a lesser reality of the lore he'd always accepted, who was to say?

Who indeed.

He had given Zoe plenty of space to run her little experiments without interference, aside from keeping an 'eye' out to ensure she wasn't in any immediate danger. But there was only so long that would last, and despite having ample opportunity to create more brides...he felt like he needed more answers before that inevitability occurred.

Agatha had been right, annoyingly, as usual. Lab rats were not something he needed, especially ones who could question him on topics even he didn't fully understand anymore.

If the Van Helsing women were good for anything, aside from healthy competition, it was certainly bluntness and clarity. Being the only thing close to another vampire of any mental capacity to be in his proximity for over 300 years certainly didn't hurt.

Zoe Van Helsing was someone he needed, a concept he could scarcely understand and wasn't entirely fond of, but if he wasn't mistaken, she needed him as well - and hated it even more.

----

"Dr. Helsing, is this really necessary?"

Zoe found herself staring at the younger but far more egotistical doctor through the glass that separated them with an expression not unlike one would give a particularly frustrating insect who refused to die as fast as she wished it would.

"Is what necessary?"

The man, Dr. Connors, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, punctuating his next words with unnecessary flare.

"Well, our sponsor doesn't understand the necessity of this trial, when it cannot possibly prove anything. All of our intel on the 'vampiric condition' states simply that they require blood to sustain life, but also that it's nearly impossible to kill them. Surely your continued … existence without blood doesn't fully prove or disprove anything. And without anything to compare it to…"

"For now," she interrupted stubbornly, attempting to ignore his tendency to discuss her as though she were a theoretical construct.

"Even so," he continued blandly, "There are surely better uses of our time, in the face of an increasing number of...undead. Preventative measures, protection for the innocent. Unless you can get some sort of control data…"

Their 'sponsor' had sent this idiot to report back on how his precious money was being spent, and it had become an increasingly infuriating thorn in her side. Or stake in her heart, she was sure he hoped. Zoe had just begun to second guess her tendencies toward homicide, when she felt the tell-tale hairs begin to rise on the back of her neck.

"Oh fuck me," she cursed aloud, completely indifferent to the confused looks of those observing her. They wouldn't be confused for long.

"Careful what you wish for Doctor."

Everyone but Zoe took a startled glance around. She turned around, eyes directly finding the dark ones on the outside of the glass, quirking a stern brow despite the relative chaos of everyone else receding into the corners in panic.

Count Dracula merely flashed her a shit-eating grin in response, relishing her disapproval in equal measure to the human fear beginning to fill the room. Pungent and yet satisfying, she noted, rather unhappily.

"Oh Zoe how the tables have turned," he couldn't resist prodding at her through the encasement, ignoring the guns pointed at his back in favor of taunting her, hands in his pockets. The picture of malicious nonchalance.

She wasn't trapped, as he had been. They'd learned their lesson in that regard at least, but it was a barrier she'd permitted for her own sanity. Watching everyone walk on eggshells around her was grating, and it ruined her focus. Plus, it helped with the sensory overload until she got more accustomed to it.

"And yet you're still the one at gunpoint," Zoe shot back with a hint of a blithe smile.

He turned and directed his overly fond smile towards the tattooed gentleman with the over-sized assault weapon, greeting him like an old friend. The man that Zoe had never seen with a single facial expression looked so dumbstruck that she had to fight down a laugh. This was apparently the last straw for their visiting dictator.

"Count Dracula," came more of a squeak than a shout from the bespectacled doctor's mouth, with such a forced amount of distaste that Zoe was now certain he had lost his mind entirely. "You will not be permitted to attack anyone here."

Shooting Zoe an incredulous look, mostly as she could read translating to ‘Is he serious?’, the vampire watched her answering eye roll very obviously telling him ‘He's an idiot, but reports to the money’.

Dracula finally looked away from their silent exchange, and took out a small pocket flask, not unlike the one he'd left her before, and shook it in the other man's general direction as he passed by him with total indifference.

"Not to worry, I brought my own," he stated, opening it and taking a long swig. It cleared a direct pathway for him easily, bee-lining for Dr. Bloxham who sat at the control panel. She naturally flinched on his approach, despite trying to hide it. He noticed and flashed her a charming smile, to his credit only showing the slightest hint of fang.

"Terribly sorry about the finger," the Count apologized humbly, almost convincingly sincere as he draped a long arm over the back of her chair. "...But would you mind letting me in?"

Bloxham looked somewhat confused. "You want to go in there?" Her eyes shot up to the ceiling. The sun had not completely set. He gave her an encouraging smile with a faint trace of pity.

"I would love to go in there."

Zoe merely rolled her eyes and tapped on the table with relative impatience, as he paced through the parted seas of scientists and interns alike to join her in the completely ineffective glass prison.

"You evil little thing, you didn't tell them," he accused with quiet glee as he approached her from the opposite side of the table.

"If their superstitions help them feel safe, then all the better for me," she excused in a murmur, hoping he hadn't just given the game away completely.

His grin was one of near pride, as he bent his tall form forward to rest his hands on the table. "I can go slit his throat if you want me to. Heaven knows you won't."

She sighed, not trusting herself to answer. "Why are you here?" she asked instead.

"You needed me, didn't you?"

------

Okay, so this could go really amusingly or very terribly - we’ll see what I come up with, eh? Shouldn’t be as long of a wait this time, fingers crossed.

Tag List: @break-free-killer-queen @mephdcosplay @charlesdances @punk-courtesan @crowley-needs-a-hug @hoefordarkness @bellamortislife @malkaviangirl @imagineandimagine @chelsfic @dracula-s-bride @my-fanfic-library @hyacinth-meadow @mymagicsuitcase @littlemessyjessi @desperatefrenchwriter @ss9slb @crazytxgradstudent @claesbang @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @gettingcrazyforlife @carydorse @dreamerkim @gatissed @alhoyin @girlonfireice @festering-queen @jangleprojet @guardianbelle @vampiregirl1797

Share with your friends, if anyone else wants tagged let me know!

#bbc dracula #dracula 2020 #claes bang #dracula #dragatha #zoe van helsing #my writing #the undone & the divine

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bambooastronaut · 4 years

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Hi Nicole! I've always loved reading your advice and I was wondering if you could help me out with something...I genuinely love listening to my friends and am always interested in their lives and what's going on with them. The problem is they know this and a few of them take advantage - they're constantly using me as their therapist and just putting EVERYTHING on me. When I talk on the other hand I'll get one word answers, disinterest and then it's back to them (1/2)

I try to do things for friends without expecting anything in return and I know everyone’s love language is different and just because they’re not great at listening to me doesn’t mean they don’t care…but it still really hurts my feelings! I’ve tried to talk to one about it but she *assures* me that it’s all in my mind and that she *is* listening. I’m still feeling used and like my feelings don’t matter to them…what should I do??? Thanks for listening 😉 and I love your blog! (2/2)

Hi Anon! I’m very glad if my advice has ever helped you. Or anyone, in fact. I will do my best. I apologize for the delay in answering; on the occasion I get an ask like this I try to give it a lot of thought before replying, and this is a tricky issue.

So, I totally get this feeling. I know it feels bad when you give and give to people in your life and it feels like they aren’t appreciative or reciprocal. But the thing to remember is, like you said, everyone expresses love differently. Some friends may be good listeners, like you, who want to help as much as they can. For people who feel like they’re in great need for someone to listen to them, it’s so easy to take that friend in your life for granted and dump everything on them.

So there’s two things I wanna say about this, aside from I think that it’s completely valid to feel frustrated about this. One is that, if you feel like people are putting too much on you, no matter who they are, it’s okay to set boundaries. If someone starts to unload a lot on you and it’s too much of a strain, it’s okay for you to say “I’m not feeling well right now, is it okay if we talk about this later?” or even “I’m not in a place where I can help you with this right now.” Boundaries are healthy, and it’s important to have them, especially if you’re feeling overwhelmed. The fact is that you’re NOT their therapist, you’re their friend. It’s important to remember that you are not your friends’ therapist, and they can’t be expected to be yours. Though of course you should feel like you’re able to talk to your friends about your problems, that’s not a replacement for therapy.

Two is a tougher thing, because I don’t personally know your friends, and I have no way of knowing whether or not your one friend is telling the truth about listening to you. I do know that sometimes people tell me about their problems and I don’t know what to say. It’s a problem I don’t know how to approach, or I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing, and in that case I don’t have much or a response beyond “sorry to hear that” or “I understand.” It doesn’t mean I’m not listening, it’s just that it may be hard to answer. So it’s possible that your friend is listening but isn’t as good at responding to you as you are to her and your other friends. You cannot force your friends to express themselves differently, they’re always going to be who they are. Maybe they’re not great listeners, but are there other ways they express their affection for you? Do they send you memes they think you’ll like, or invite you to events or to play something online together? Aside from being the kind of people who listen to your problems and offer advice, are they showing you that they love you in other ways?

If the answer is yes, then I think what you said about love languages is something to remember. People express love in so many ways. However, if the answer is no, and you find yourself wondering if you’re getting anything out of these friendships, I think it’s okay to think about it and decide for yourself what to do. I think at the very least, setting boundaries about putting too much on you is a good place to start.

And finally: loving your friends is not a contest. There’s no one keeping score. If you want to listen to your friends’ problems and they want to tell you about them and it’s not a strain on you. And a friend’s inability or lack of a desire to give advice on your problems is not an inherent indicator that they don’t love you as well.

I hope this helps, and if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask if you think I can help!

#Nicole replies to things #asks #Nicole gives advice #Anonymous #long post

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xseildnasterces · 3 years

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power over me.

Okay. Buckle in. It's going to be a long one. Like, a really long one. I am finally beginning to feel some sort of normal after getting my second covid vaccine on Thursday. It’s been a rough few days. My body has just been completely exhausted, constantly aching and in pain and I’ve had zero energy to do anything. As with the first vaccine I never even felt it go in, and so as I was feeling pretty fine once it was done, I went straight to the office. I was lifting and moving boxes around and was having no issues at all. I got home and my arm was starting to ache, but just the normal kind of ache you get with any vaccine, so I assumed I wasn’t going to have the fly symptoms other people had had. But oh my, was I wrong. Later that evening my body just gave up. I was incredibly exhausted, my arm ached worse than any ache I’d ever had, but what’s more, I was also in a huge amount of pain. I could not move my arm even an inch without being in extreme pain – to the point of constantly saying ‘ouch’ out loud to myself. I tried to go to bed early but that didn’t work out. The pain was too much, and I couldn’t sleep at all. I was exhausted, but sleep would not come. I found myself wandering around the apartment in the early hours of the morning trying to cool down because I was burning up and felt like I had a fever. I curled up on the sofa for about an hour as it was cooler in there and eventually dragged myself back into bed at 5am for a few hours sleep before getting up for work. I did zero work all day. I had a morning call with J and C for which I stayed in bed. The call certainly cheered me up. I cannot express how happy those calls make me. I miss the two of them so much and cannot wait to head back to Frankfurt and see them at some point in the hopefully not to distant future. We just laugh so much about everything and I feel very lucky for the relationship I have with them both. I slept a lot of the day, or at least tried to, and lazed around trying to feel somewhat alive which I didn’t. I believe the state I was in was also due to the fact my allergies were awful the day of my vaccine, and I also started my period. Not the best combination. So yeah, I felt horrendous. Yesterday I started to feel a little better, but my body still wasn’t back to normal. I hope today it will be better.

Allergies: before moving to the US I had never had any issues whatsoever with seasonal allergies, yet since moving here I have apparently developed them. Some days I wake up with sore eyes, a running nose that also feels completely congested and just all round feeling a bit shit. I imagine it must be a different type of pollen here that bothers me which we don’t have or have as much of in Europe perhaps. I don’t know. I’m not an expert, but it certainly seems weird that I have developed hay fever since moving here. I spent most of last summer back in the UK so I wonder whether I just didn’t spend enough time here last year to experience the new allergies. This year however will be different, so I guess I better start taking that Claritin!

Periods: Oddly enough, after a few months of no periods whatsoever and starting to panic, things seem to have reached some form of normality. I say some form, as I also had a month when I had two periods within two weeks which really wasn’t great. Regardless, things seem somewhat normal for me anyway. Period pain and cramps seems to have gotten so much worse recently, but more on periods and that later. I have a new major love for period underwear. It’s genuinely one of my best ever purchases and I will never, ever go back to disposable period products. If you want to make your period more bearable, I would wholeheartedly recommend period underwear above anything else!

Work: I had my usual one-to-one meeting at work on Monday, and as always, I was filled with complete and utter anxiety. It was fine and nothing wrong whatsoever. In fact, I actually left feeling really positive which makes a change. I am trying hard to not get too excited or think too much of it as my boss can have one thought one day and say she never said it the following day, but regardless, we were talking about my current task. When I first started in my current job there was an absolutely huge backlog of requests for researchers. I’m talking, requests dating back to 2017, all of which needed to be reviewed, digitised, quality checked, second reviewed and pushed to the catalogue and sent out to researchers. My initial task was to eliminate the backlog. Things were going well, and then the pandemic hit and we had to work from home. Of course, my job is very hands-on. I need to have access to the records to do most of my tasks, and so the backlog got bigger and bigger. Once I was deemed ‘essential staff’, myself and my consultants working on the digitisation were able to go onsite to work on the reference requests. We have been chipping away for months and are making good progress. However, archival reference is not my thing. I do it because I have to, but my love for my job lies in archival processing… something that I was under the impression I was initially hired for. Archival processing and description is my jam! And I cannot wait to do it again. My boss mentioned in my meeting that she felt I was not able to use my skillsets well whilst working on reference and that she did not think I was working to my full ability. I 100% agreed. I could do my current task with my eyes shut. It’s not a challenge, and more than anything it’s a necessity rather than anything else… partly because there is only one of me. One archivist for a whole organisation. And a huge international organisation at that. She discussed with me that her plans were that once the backlog was under control (it will never be complete as requests are a continuous part of our job), I would be working on processing. That is what she wants me to do and it was never her plan for me to be solely on reference. This has purely happened due to my supervisor retiring and the inability of our upper management to hire anyone else in her place (the job advert hasn’t even been sent out yet – so who on earth knows when I will no longer be a lone ranger)… Regardless, I left the meeting feeling a little giddy and happy. Perhaps I won’t be finding myself leaving in October this year after all… but let’s not jump the gun just yet.

ICA – This week we had a three hour(!) meeting from 7am regarding the ICA, the NP programme and everything else related to the current goings-on of the organisation. It was a really great opportunity to sit in on a meeting of many important and influential people in the archive world, and I felt grateful to be there. The topic on the Congress was brought up, and we were told a final decision of whether it will go ahead in October would take place on Friday with the meeting of the ICA Executive Board. As of yet, we have not been informed of the outcome. I’m nervous, and I’m sad and frustrated. I feel like I already know the answer will be that it will either be going ahead virtually or not at all, and I’m just so sad that that will be the case. I have wanted to attend the congress/conference for as long as I can remember in terms of my archival education and career, and to be awarded the chance to go and then have it stripped away from me (or so it feels), because of a bloody pandemic is just infuriating. I understand that there are much worse things going on in the world and I am lucky to even have a job and live somewhere that has enabled me to get the vaccine before many others, but at the end of the day everything is relative and I think I am allowed to be upset and mad about what covid is taking away from me, regardless of this smaller scale. I worked hard for this, like really hard and it would have been a significant and landmark experience in my career.

Therapy – Solo therapy this week led me down a road I have very rarely opened up about to anyone. I guess I always felt that because I was never ‘officially’ diagnosed with an eating disorder, I shouldn’t really say that I have had one. However, as a child, I suffered from anorexia. Other than knowing that I wanted to be skinny and felt that I was fat, I have never delved deeper into why or what caused my eating disorder. I have always believed that part of it was due to being bullied, and the more I explored this with my therapist the more things started to become clearer. I think there were so many things that I got bullied for as a child, being skinny was something that I had control over if I didn’t eat – and that meant I couldn’t be bullied for being fat. It may sound silly for anyone reading this, but I was a child, under 11 and this is how I was thinking. It actually breaks my heart to think of a little girl feeling that way, and then I realise that that little girl is me. I always grew up with an unhealthy relationship with food, something that since moving abroad has changed greatly, and I would now say that my relationship with food is the best it has ever been. There are still ‘wobbles’ and I am still incredibly self-conscious about my weight and how I look. I step on the scales pretty much every day, and the moment I see a pound over what I am expecting I have a meltdown – regardless of whether this is water weight or I’ve just eaten a huge meal or I’m bloated from being on my period. Anyway, opening up and exploring that part of myself felt easier than it has previously, and I felt somewhat comfortable exploring it. The conversation also discussed my childhood in other ways, growing up ‘poor’, my mum learning to read and spell at the same time as I did, and my parents not being able to help me with my homework – regardless of how much they wanted to – because they physically couldn’t. We talked about my dad working in the local factory, and my mum working cleaning jobs and how this affected the way people treated me in school and looked down on me because of it. I expressed that growing up with no money made me strive to not find myself in that position. I do not believe my parent's situation was their fault. I know there is much that I will not discuss here their lives before me that led them to not have much money – the education system at the time being a large part of that, but regardless, none of the reasons that led to their lot in life was their fault. I knew from a young age that I would go to university. I remember being in primary school and telling my parents that I would, and I remember my mums face turning to panic as she told me she didn’t know how I would ever afford to go to university and that they did not have the money to help. At the time, we were not aware of student loans etc. but I knew so young that I was going to get a degree. Determination to succeed was rooted in me so young and my honest aim was not to be ‘rich’ but to be comfortable. To be able to live in a way that didn’t leave me counting the pennies or wondering whether I would be able to afford something or whether I needed to wait until the next paycheck. I wanted to be comfortable enough that I didn’t need to think before buying something (within reason), or that I didn’t need to save for months on end for something I wanted or needed (again, within reason. I am well aware that large ticket items e.g. a house, is not something I can buy overnight). Anyway, I’m on a random tangent here, so back to therapy. Group therapy this week was good, but I found myself going on a mass rant about women’s rights and the current situation in the UK. I think I went a little overboard, but I was so riled up and angry about it that I couldn’t stop. We were discussing seeing these things in the news and one of the people in our group discussed how they feel that there is nothing they can do to improve women’s place in the world and that they switch off and try not to watch too much media about it. This made me angry. I will preface this with

the person in question is male who I do not believe is inherently misogynistic in any way, but the fact he is male is key. I responded by saying don’t you think we could just switch off from me for a few days, weeks or months and not have to think about it? Don’t you think we wished that we didn’t have to think about it every single time we walk outside or it’s starting to go dark? I was really mad. I expressed that I was not mad at the guy that had said this, I was just angry at the issue. I expressed how this was such a HUGE issue for me personally and something that I feel super strongly about and this was probably why I was raging about it. Well, that and the fact it’s a prominent issue in UK media right now. One of our therapists said they thought the best way to push the discussion forward was to give examples of why we feel the way we do. This I found really annoying. I do not feel that I should have to justify why I feel the way I do about these things or why it makes me angry. I didn’t feel comfortable going into detail in a group setting about the sexual assaults that I have personally experienced and I felt that the other women in the group felt the same. My therapist gave an example of how she sometimes feels scared going to her car in a parking lot at night. Yes, I agree, I would feel the same, but regardless, I felt like they were asking us for more personal examples, and no one seemed happy to give them. After the session, I calmed down a bit and thought through everything I had said and felt during the meeting. I usually do this. I write down my thoughts so that I can explore them in my solo session next week. I assume the topic will come up again, so I guess we’ll see what happens.

OBGYN - This week I had my first OBGYN appointment here in the US. I felt nervous but also excited about it because I was hopeful that I could get some advice and at least someone who would listen to my worries and concerns. However, this is not exactly what I got. I was given the same as the doctor when I booked my appointment. I had specifically asked for a woman, and I looked her up the day before my appointment. I do believe that more often than not I am a good judge of character. I saw her picture and immediately felt negatively towards her. She just looked like someone that was going to be a bitch. She was late to my video appointment which already got my back up and she was immediately dismissive and gave the impression that she couldn’t be bothered. She firstly barked at me to provide her with a list of my illness and medication. I started with IBD, to which she replied, yep IBS. I said no, IBD. I said I have inflammatory bowel disease and she said irritable bowel syndrome. I said no, and she scoffed and said they are the same. If I didn’t have my back up before I certainly did now. One thing worse than having a chronic illness is someone telling you it’s the same as something that isn’t a chronic disease. I said no, I have Crohn's disease or ulcerative colitis, it has not yet been determined which. She then clicked on and said, oh! So yes, after her scoffing and laughing at me, she began to understand what I was saying. Next, she asked why I had made an appointment. I explained the appointment with my dermatologist, and she pulled a face and said she didn’t really understand why she had advised me to see an OBGYN. Of course, this just made me feel defeated already and I hadn’t even got onto explaining my thoughts and worries. She said she thought the only reason the derm had told me to see an OBGYN was to get put on birth control as it would also help with my skin. I told her I did not want to be on birth control. She asked what method of contraception I was taking. I REALLY wanted to say that I don’t sleep with men, but I felt so uncomfortable with her already that I just said I don’t have sex right now. Which wasn’t a lie in any terms anyway. She scoffed again and said, so your method of birth control is abstinence. I chose not to explore this further and just let her carry on. We went through some information on my periods, their length, regularity etc. etc. She agreed my periods were irregular… not something that I even needed confirming. I have been living with this for over ten years at this point. I wanted to explore fertility options for the future, just in case I ever decide to have children, but she was so dismissive and said that I shouldn’t begin to worry yet, but should make sure I consider my option of having children sooner rather than later. She made me feel uncomfortable. She didn’t make me feel that I could tell her that I was never going to get pregnant naturally, not because my body wouldn’t let me, but more importantly because I was never again going to have male/female sex. Anyway, the appointment didn’t go how I wanted, and I intend to book with another doctor later in the year to discuss the things that I want to discuss and to hopefully be taken more seriously. The one positive outcome from the appointment was that I am eligible for the HPV vaccine here and they recommend that you get it up until the age of 35. In the UK I was told it was pointless to get it after you have already had sex (with either gender), and you are only covered under the NHS to get it until some point in your 20s. Whatever it was I have now passed that age anyway, so I am open to getting it here. Give me all the vaccines. It’s a three dose-er, so considering my bodies reaction to the covid vaccine I will give it a bit of time to recover before booking my first appointment. Secondly, I have also been prescribed a medication to ‘kickstart’ a fake period should I not have one for three months or more. This made me feel happy as I had been told if my body does not shed its womb lining at least every three months I am

at an increased risk of cancer, so of course, being prescribed a medication to create a bleed, for this reason, is certainly positive. Finally, one part of the appointment that provided me with some concern is the mention of pelvic pain. The doctor said if I ever experience pelvic pain on either side, I must see a doctor right away as there is a high chance a cyst has developed, and I will need surgery… This filled me with great panic considering I have had enormous amounts of pelvic pain recently. I presumed and still believe it is related to my IBD, but regardless it’s something I need to keep track of and be more aware of. I didn’t mention it to the doctor which I now regret, but I just wanted to get off the call as quickly as possible. But yeah, it wasn’t as successful as I had hoped.

In other news, birthday gifts have started arriving from my family which is exciting. Each time something arrives I just think of how lucky I am to have people that are willing to pay the extortionate shipping costs to get things here, and for that, I am so very grateful.

Finally, I am well and truly OBSESSED with Line of Duty. I have been meaning to watch it for years as my mum always told me I would enjoy it and she is also obsessed with it. So, I finally started watching from series one a few days ago. I’m not about halfway through season four and loving every single minute of it. IT’S JUST SO GOOD. I also may have an ever so slight crush on Vicky McClure. Not that that is anything new. Lol in This Is England anyone?

[Blog title: Power Over Me - Dermot Kennedy].

#Dermot Kennedy #power over me #life #personal #diary #journal #write #writing #thoughts #thought #feeling #feelings #me #memory #memories #vicky mcclure #health #drs #medical #periods #women

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drblovewrite · 7 years

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A Winding Ramble About Damain R. B. K. by Yours Truly ✌

I can remember being younger and telling my family I loved them. Looking back, I believe that I did not feel love for them and that was due to a fear of a lack of my family and all they could provide and their familiarity as well as an acute sense of how they would supposedly feel awful and be hurt if I did not express that sentiment.

It is only now that I know without a doubt that I love them, with a great fondness and regard for their state of being and a wish for them to view me well and believe that they are loved.

A lot of the time I felt disconnected, like there was a distance between my family and I. I wanted to be protected. I said I loved my mom and dad, but at that age what I really would miss was my mom’s cooking and my dad’s financial support. That’s a pretty cold view, but what I had.

What curbed my actions at times was the idea that if I said something, I feared that they would analyse my words and find a meaning that implied a lack of regard- no care or consideration, or hatred. I did not like feeling that way, and so I would apologise if I felt that my words could chase those feelings. I used my feelings and way of thinking as the standard and reference point. That is perhaps why I doubted so much that persons meant what they said. I know I did not mean what I said, subconsciously, and so I attributed that to others.

Looking back, I recognise that I was filled less with genuine care for others.

Now I genuinely care for few, and wish to engender care from others or good regard so I can get them to feel what I want them to feel towards me and put them in a place where they are more likely to do what I want them to do and give me less resistance when I want something done.

I’m very friendly with few friends. However, I also now find that making others happy or less discontent makes me happy. I have found that my name precedes me and my actions pave the way to easier interactions and an easier time overall.

I don’t generally ask for favours, because I prefer to get what I want myself and be responsible for the greatest quality that can be assured. To ask, to me, is ceding power and acknowledging my inability to perform a task. Making the frequency that I ask for favours seldom, I am able to project the idea that I am competent, but am open to aid at times, but not to the point that I am viewed as incompetent or taking advantage of those who would aid me.

I experience more emotions from reading than in daily life. Hence why I read constantly and hundreds of thousands of words are read by me daily. I want to moved to tears. I want to jump for joy. I want to be conflicted and brought to rage and made to feel hurt. I want too feel more than muted emotions and rare bursts of high levels of emotions.

Music is a source of emotions for me as well, which is how I am also able to feel a specific emotion. It frustrates me that I can’t hold onto them and keep them solid to be accessed at all times. When a song is no longer able to move me is when I get annoyed with it and avoid it. It usually comes back.

I have one friend on here who cause me to feel genuine fondness and love and another on my dorm whose a year below me but 4 years older than me who feels like a younger sibling who I count on.

I kinda am disappointed that I am willing to send persons who I have regard for into situations I view as potentially harmful, but…

I am not brave…and I can’t get over the fear that prevents me from leaving the fucking *campus*…so I’m willing to let others do it for me.

A lot of the time I don’t mean what I say, but only because I want to.

I am manipulative, and that is true, so I won’t say I’m not. It’s just who I am and who my parents raised. I will say vague stuff or specific random stuff. But I avoid divulging deep stuff about myself, and I avoid saying anything that is truly potentially harmful in arguments, so that when the tale eventually flies away, I don’t appear in a truly negative and authority figures will have no reason to doubt my character. I will insinuate things, but that is mostly in reference to an individual’s ability to truly understand what I’m putting down and through twisting the other persons words to make them a appear in a negative light. I listen when people talk to me. And the North remembers. So I know what makes makes a person tick and what they have to say about others. If a relationship goes sour, I may pepper my conversations sparsely with vague mentions and inferences and ‘worries’ that this person with whom I’ve shared so much or spent so much time with had turned on me. This usually is resolved through strict avoidance and icy politeness that quickly warms until the relationship is just as it was before. Though I don’t forget.

That’s a positive for me though, my ability to scream at someone one week and then go to talking about our fucking dogs and what we like the next.

The same cannot be said for others however. I have realised that my intervention has caused some relationships to go sour for like, ever, and some to never come about.

I generally expect others to be like me though, so I’m not surprised when others try to do the same to me without actually succeeding.

I can greatly dislike a person and everything they stand for and not express a lik of it to them. Though for those who I don’t care to have in my corner, I am more free with my words. Like my fucking roommate who is a passive aggressive shit who mooches off me like nobodies business and makes efforts to appear benevolent in certain respect that are transparent and who is unable to even properly appear as such due to outbursts that make them obvious. They claim to be the most selfless person ever, when people know that they sabotage them self to ensure they get what they need and can still say that they are the “most giving person in the world. No one gives as much as me”. But…they purposefully waste others time by arriving hours later than promised and they also ensure that others *have* to help them. At first I thought “doormat?” and wanted to help… but really, they shoot them self in the foot.

I know I mislead others and shit, but I give them my best if only because that’s what I’d want.

Movin’ ON.

I weigh like 136 lbs. 5'4" and hoping for at least one more, And my fam and almost every one I know says I’m faaaaaat.

18 years old, going 19 in December.

Single. Never dated, never kissed, never had sex.

Am unable to take of myself in daily life and perform the necessary actions that make humans 'presentable’. (That means unless outwardly prompted, I’m more likely to just…not.) Makes me feel like a piece of shit a lot, but its all good 😆

I avoid reading or watching the same thing more than once. If I read it once, I’m unlikely to revisit unless I forget that I read it and then just power through with determination.

What do I watch? Impractical Jokers and Family Feud and Random Movies. On that note, the representation of religion and LGBTQPIA+ topics often is a miss for me, and so I’m the type to just kind of cover my eyes for fear of what I see. Also, my family regularly watches the shit I watch, so I can’t really watch stuff that is of good fibre without being in a rigid state of severe discomfort and mild fear.

What do I read? Fanfic and original fiction. Sci fi is a hard no go, and supernatural is a hit or miss.

Fanfic preferences? Time travel, fix-it, self insert, reincarnation, mpreg, coming out, outing, dysphoria, fake relationships, social media focus, sports RPF, and the *dark tags* on Ao3. A lot of it is because of morbid curiosity and an irresistible urge to see what can go wrong go horribly wrong- or right as the story would have it. My *issues* are always on my mind, so they appear in my preferred reading. Yes, that is a thing. That I do.

What else? How long can I make this?

I have shit eyes and teeth and skin. My fashion sense is to wear what fits and still is functional. I severely dislike shopping.

I like spicy food! I live in the Caribbean! I…go to a religion based school, as I’ve done my whole life! I study science! I have two bros. I speak English, but my country has a dialect that I am very capable in. I won a silver medal for performance arts once.

I have dark brown kinky hair that I perm and that is now just wavy and loosely curly and sentient at this point. My eyes are very dark brown. I’m of Irish and Scottish descent on my mom’s side and just something something Indian and some African on both sides with a great dash of one of the old local groups from my paternal grandma. My voice is kinda low, but of a scratchy register?(is that a thing) with a kinda smooth and yet stuffy undertone. It resonates and has the capacity to drown out everyone else in the room. I generally speak in a cutesy- yes I really mean it- voice when on the phone with my mom. I almost always have an electronic with me. I follow rules to the tee, so I’m rather rigid in that respect.

I wanna be a psychiatrist…but what I want to do is just raise children. I want kids baaaad. Like, if you are pregnant, I’d take your kid and raise it and expect like, nothing from you, except I’m a college kid dependent on my parents…so.

I have so much more to say, but don’t have the drive to write more and make this long ass post any longer.

If you actually read this tell me something about you! I mean, you know so much of my shit already! 😳

Love!

#i can't wait for this #nothing #i'm all alone #no one to talk to #speak to me #personal #me #in my mind #i don't mind #wouldn't blame you #ramblings

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zendallkiner · 7 years

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Under the mango tree

Here I sit, listening to the melancholy sounds of the background music, the bustle of the office, the quiet rumble of life happening all around. The clicking of keys, the goats calling out to each other, the motorcycles flying by. Time passing with nothing in its way. Here I sit.

I sit, thinking of when I first got here, the excitement that encompassed my being alongside the fear and the regret. What did I get myself into? As I think of these sentiments, I reflect upon my progress thus far. Progress not being defined by work but rather ability to feel at ease. The ability to recognize this country, this city as my home. Something that is mine that I can proudly take ownership of. While this is still a work in progress, here I sit thinking how have I gotten this far? What is it that has made me continue to this point and I think of the mango tree.

This is a story that takes me back to the beginning of my service when I arrived to my permanent site just two months into Senegal, knowing absolutely nothing and feeling overly prepared for whats ahead. Eager to get out but not knowing where to start, I woke up one day and just walked. Walked and greeted people, hoped to be called over also hoped to be left alone, having a moment of contradiction within my being the longer I walked the more I thought what am I doing here, where the fuck am I? I continued and continued until the hissing began, and as protocol here goes, I was being summoned. This is where my story under the mango tree begins.

“Come here! White girl, come here and talk with us!”

…okay…it couldn’t hurt I’ll stay for 15 minutes and keep on keeping on…

And fifteen minutes, turned into thirty turned into an hour turned into 4 hours into me rushing home to make lunch in time. During this time, the place that will become my sanctuary, my place of solace, my comfort was unknowingly being created. A group of men occupy this nook within town, Laye being the carpenter who spends his days woodworking alongside a few others and the rest sitting around drinking tea, chatting. Intimidated, I skeptically approached these men, some young, some older unaware this is the last place I need to fear.

“What’s your name? What’s your mission here?” they ask.

The name’s Danty, talks about Peace Corps, uses broken Wolof…shyly, embarrassingly writes down everything in a notebook, still studying Wolof…

“My name is Ibu” “Mine is Cheikh” “Mine is…” etc, etc, “Why aren’t you writing our names down? Label them under the mango tree so you don’t forget later”

Sixteen people talking all at once. Who is that one again? And him? Ugh. Vivaciously transcribes names being shouted, thinks its dumb to label where these people are from, later internally thanks them because forgets. obviously.

As the excitement continues in the new relationships created, conversation steadily continues about my purpose here, the United States and the lives of these individuals under this mango tree. Conversation gets directed towards my challenges here thus far one of those being the inability to communicate in the way I would like. Feeling so incapable to say exactly what I want, the frustrations that ill to cease. This expression of frustration, while subtly told, is overwhelmingly responded with reassurance and kindness. A kindness so gentle and welcoming intertwined with invitations to return here when the loneliness and frustration has its grasp on my being.

“Here is your home, whenever you are feeling down or lonely, know that you always have us. We are your friends and you can always find us here.”

And so the days passed, exploring different corners of the town, finding other individuals and groups to shoot the breeze with, forgetting to return back to this first home I was offered. Until I woke up and felt the loneliness creeping up. Awakened by sounds of sweeping and the bustling of children preparing for school, the sound of life moving along without any care of my existence. The endless hours laying fully ahead with nothing to occupy them. So I walked, and walked and happened back upon the mango tree. Hesitantly approaching these individuals fearful of reprimand for having forgotten to return for quite a few days only to be welcomed back with looks of endearment and genuine excitement.

“It’s been a long time since seeing you, where have you been?”

Just walking, I say. Looking to really know the town by talking to as many people I am able to.

“Well, welcome back, we’re happy to see you. Come sit, drink tea and talk with us.”

Since then, I have returned to this corner of the world with pleasure on numerous occasions. Always welcomed, always reminded of the kindness that is offered and always asked if I will be the second wife. Jokingly of course until my answer is yes.

I tell this story with gratitude in mind. The gratitude I feel for being accepted by people within my community, my new home. There are so many times where this part of my life, this location I am living in feels so temporary. It feels as though I am walking through the streets seeing new faces every morning, afternoon and evening. I am dragged out of site for medical issues, social gatherings or work meetings in which adds to this feeling of temporariness. Anything can happen. Tomorrow I can wake up and decide to leave. I have the ability to go home at any moment and that kind of power is daunting. A power that makes me feel as though my life is so temporary in nature if I so choose. And then I return, and I pass by the mango tree and everything feels a little less temporary.

The same people are there, doing the same things, talking with the same mannerisms all having their particular role. The jokester, the inquirer, the instigator…

And this characteristic of permanence and consistency I feel gratitude for. Without fail being asked how I am doing, if I’m better, where my family is and if they are in peace. In a world where things fail to stop when greater life takes a hold telling you your body hates this country having these places to find solace within is the greatest gift of all.

“Your body, It must rest a while” says life.

“But I can’t rest, I must get back to my life, it cannot pause for this long” my body responds.

In which life responds without a care. It continues on and things feel temporary and permanent and everlasting all at once. And I persist, persevere. But when I return to my new life, I have found a place to return to. A place for when the days have been unexpectedly shuffled, unexpectedly displaced. A place that amidst all of this whirlwind, I can find an element of calmness, one that will always be there.

Feeling grateful for this corner of the world I can call my own, here I sit.

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