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#and they use those insecurities to convince us to spend our money on making ourselves ‘beautiful’
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welcome to another episode of me bringing annoying twitter discourse to tumblr. today’s episode: choice feminism
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missmentelle · 3 years
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Hi MM/Bee! I'm a recent college graduate. I always worked hard in school and I matured a lot at college, but I'm realizing how low my self-esteem is. I'm obsessing over the things I haven't done/accomplished, scholarships I never applied for, my body image, my high school days, "not being as successful as my high school class", an old crush who I never talked to (who is already super successful), and some days I feel like I messed up my life beyond repair. How do I work on self-love? Thank you!
For starters, I think it’s important for you to know that you aren’t the only person feeling this way. I get similar questions all the time, often from people who aren’t even out of their 20s yet. It isn’t even remotely true that you need to achieve wild success by age 25 or you’ve wasted your life, but I can understand why so many people feel that way. 
Our culture is dangerously obsessed with productivity, youth and achievement, to the point that it is actively making all of our lives miserable. It’s not hard to understand where people get this idea that they’re failing in life if they aren’t a 20-something well-travelled millionaire - that is the message our culture throws in our faces all the time - and it’s so unbelievably untrue. We compile “top 30 under 30″ lists, celebrate incredibly young performers and entertainers, and hold up extremely high-achieving lifestyles as something that every one of us needs to be striving for, but we don’t - there is no timeline for “success”, there is no one true definition of success, and people will take wildly different paths in life to arrive at the same set of goals. What you think of as your failure is not actually your failure - it’s a cultural failure that so many of us fall victim to. 
I think it’s also important to remember that you haven’t messed up your life beyond repair: you’ve barely started your life yet. Your college years are supposed to be a time of growing and maturing, and that maturation doesn’t end the moment you cross the stage - you’re going to continue to learn and change and grow throughout your lifespan. And growth means you are always going to mess some stuff up - that’s how we grow. All of us have to make mistakes in this life, and all of us have to prioritize rest sometimes; there are always going to be tests we don’t do so great on, social situations we flub, scholarships we don’t apply for, crushes we don’t confess to, deadlines we miss, relationships we let fall apart and goals we don’t achieve. Nobody speedruns life with 100% completion. And that’s okay. Those missteps and mistakes are what teach us to do better next time, or they give us the time to rest and gather energy for the next goal we want to work toward. 
Of course, learning to accept yourself and let go of cultural conditioning is easier said than done. For many of us, it’s a lifelong journey, if not the overarching theme of our lives. I wish there was a simple way to achieve it. I do, however, have some tips that can help you get there:
Unplug from productivity and self-improvement culture. Going online and seeing “Shakespeare wrote King Lear in quarantine, here’s how to maximize your quarantine time” and “here’s how I became a millionaire by age 22″ is not actually that motivating - in all likelihood, it’ll just make you feel bad about yourself. The internet is an absolute firehose of content about how you can do more, achieve more, squeeze more out of your day, and it’s completely overwhelming; honestly, most of us feel better when we stop pointing that firehose straight at our own face. It’s easier to believe that you are enough when you stop consuming content that tells you that you aren’t. Self-improvement culture looks positive on the surface, but we aren’t actually making ourselves better people by obsessing over our work and productivity - we’re just making ourselves miserable. 
Ask yourself “who benefits from making me feel bad about myself?” It’s not a coincidence that we’ve built a culture obsessed with youth and productivity - that culture is making a lot of people very, very rich. Whenever you can be convinced that you aren’t thin enough, not pretty enough, not good enough, you can be convinced to run out and buy things that might fix the problem. That’s how we ended up with a $10 billion dollar self-improvement industry and a $532 billion dollar beauty industry. Content people are harder to sell to. Of course, knowing that people are profiting off your insecurities doesn’t magically make the insecurities go away - but it’s important to start thinking critically and asking yourself “where do my insecurities come from? Is there really something wrong with me, or is someone profiting from making people like me feel this way?”
Do things that make you happy, just for the sake of doing them. Paint a picture. Plant a garden. Learn to play the mandolin. Read cheesy romance novels. Find some things that you enjoy doing just for you - things that you don’t need to maximize, monetize or optimize. You don’t even need to be good at them. If you enjoy doing it, have at it. So many of us are encouraged to suck the joy out of our hobbies by turning them into a “side hustle” or another regimented form of self-improvement. Find some activities that just make your life better and do them, just for the sake of doing them. 
Examine the role of social media in your life. Most of us don’t post a complete, unedited view of our lives on social media - we just post the highlights and keep the tough stuff - the rejections, the times we got ghosted, the bad hair days - to ourselves. And even if you know that cognitively, it still sucks to log onto social media when you’re having a “blah” week and find yourself bombarded with other people’s engagement announcements, med school acceptances, wedding pictures and photos of the new homes people just bought. Social media forces you to compare your “average” to everyone else’s “best”, all the time. And the numbers don’t help - social media lets you do an exact comparison of how many followers and likes you have compared to someone else, and seeing someone get more positive feedback than you can sting. Working on self-love means taking a hard look at the impact social media is having on your self-esteem. How much of your time do you spend on social media? How do you feel after you use social media? Are you following accounts that make you feel better about yourself, or worse? Do you ever feel bad about the number of likes or followers you have? Do you feel like your time on social media is wasted? Do you follow accounts that make you feel better about yourself, or worse? Stepping away from social media for your mental health is an important move for some people - you can still be happy for your friends and loved ones while acknowledging that it’s not good for you to have their achievements broadcast to you 24/7. 
Surround yourself with good, supportive people. If you find that your circle of friends tends to diminish each other’s achievements, be overly critical of each other or go out of their way to one-up each other, that’s probably not a circle of friends that’s going to be good for you in the long run. Find people who are genuinely happy for you, and make you feel supported and loved for who you are. If that means you need to branch out of your current social circles, that’s okay - you can find great friends in surprising places, and it’s worth the initial awkwardness of getting to know a new person. 
Challenge your definition of “success”. Success does not have to look like a high-paying job and a giant house and expensive cars and 2.5 honour roll children. It certainly can look that way, if you feel that those are meaningful goals for you, but it doesn’t have to look that way. A doctor is not necessarily “more successful” than a poet, and a lawyer is not necessarily “more successful” than a stay-at-home parent. The only person who gets to define what a “successful” life looks like is you. It takes time to unlearn the social conditioning that “money and prestige = success”, but it can be done. Success looks different for all of us. 
Set goals that are personally meaningful to you. It’s important for all of us to think critically about what we want, and it’s even more important to think critically about why we want it. Do we want that degree program or that accomplishment or that job because it aligns with our interests? To impress others? To prove someone wrong? Or because we feel like we’re supposed to want it? Try to focus your energy on the goals that you want, that are personally meaningful to you. If that’s law school, great. If that’s selling homemade jam at the farmer’s market, that is equally great. 
Remember that success does not have a deadline. I know this is very hard to believe in your early twenties, but your dreams do not shrivel up and blow away the day you turn 30. Life doesn’t end when your 20s are over. You haven’t missed your shot, and you don’t have to figure everything out right now. Growth and achievement are lifelong journeys - people find their dream jobs, accomplish their goals, finish degrees and meet the love of their life in their 40s, 50s, 60s and beyond. The best book I read this year was “Where the Crawdads Sing” a novel that spent 32 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list. It also happened to be the author’s first novel, and it came out when she was sixty-nine years old. Your dreams do not have an expiration date. 
Capture the joy and positivity in your life. I think one of the most important ways to feel better about your life is to spend more time focusing on all the good things in your life, rather than focusing on all the ways you could be better. Rather than fixating on whether you could have applied for more scholarships or turned that B+ into an A-, spend more time reflecting on the happy memories you have of your time in college. Again, this isn’t something that will happen overnight - it’s a learned skill that you need to consciously work on. Interrupt yourself when you are starting to fixate on things you could have done better, and make yourself list out three things you enjoyed about college. Connect with old college friends you haven’t heard from in a while. Try to take more notice of good things in your life as they happen to you - take more pictures, keep a journal, make collages, start a scrapbook, keep a box of momentos. You don’t need to have a perfect life to be happy; it’s okay to work on being happy with the life you have. 
Best of luck to you! MM
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brianc521 · 5 years
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Confidence | Raul Mendes
This is what happens when I read a smutty series all day. Meet Raul Mendes, one of the Mendes Triplets. 
Warning: Smutty intentions 
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How Raul ended up with you, no one knew, not even you. You were the most quiet, sweetest, bookworm on campus. Those who knew you knew you as the girl who would let anyone copy her notes because she felt like if anyone needed help and they felt the need to ask her then she should help. Those who didn’t know you still had heard of you has the one who sat in the back corner of the library, weirdly with a book in your hand instead of a laptop on your lap. 
Raul though?
Everyone knew him as the good time. He was in a frat with his brothers, Shawn and Peter. As triplets they couldn’t be any more opposite each other. Raul was the guy who was known as the party animal that brought at least three kegs to each party. He was known as the guy who scored three girls during parents weekend, not only with his parents but all three of the girls parents on campus. 
If anyone were to guess they would assume if you were to be with one of the triplets you’d be with Peter. He was the quiet one. The soft one. He focused on his studies, he read weird books. He was more your speed. 
Those would say that even Shawn was a stretch for you. Shawn was like almost a perfect medium between his brothers. He had this cutting edge to him because he was in a band, and wore sleeveless tank tops, he had tattoos and his ears pierced. At the same time he cared for everyone around him, worked for charities and brought a big ass teddy bear and roses for his girlfriend on Valentine's day. 
So when Raul walked hand in hand with you to class, kissed you at the door and pulled you back for one more hug and kiss when you tried to walk away made everyone’s head turn. It just didn’t make sense. 
Most of all? It left you lost most of the time. Raul was walking whiplash. He’d punch a guy for looking at you funny and then turn around with a baby voice asking if he could be the little spoon. 
“Babe did you finish that essay you were working on?” He asked as he shut his door behind him. Trying his best to block out the noise of not only his brothers but his frat brothers. 
“Yeah, I finished it this morning during your exam.” You answered, voice so soft he almost couldn’t hear you over Shawn’s music in the room next to his. 
“So what I’m hearing is that you’re free of homework tonight?” Raul grinned, setting the cup of hot chocolate he just made you down on his nightstand, taking hold of your ankle and pulling you to him on his bed. 
You squealed at the sudden movement, giggling when his hand slid up your calf to the back of your knee, biting into his bottom lip, playing with his lip ring, as he stared down at you. 
You were in your ripped jeans, his plain grey crew neck that had burn holes on the left collarbone. Your hair was in a messy ponytail, bangs clipped back, face bare of makeup.
His eyes raked up and over your body as he breathed heavily.
“What are you thinking?” You whispered. 
“I’m thinking you look really good laid out on my bed.” He answered licking his lips before leaning down over your body. His lips were on your neck in a fury. They were hot and slick, but the cold of his lip ring caused this sensation through your body. It made you gasp and reach up to comb your fingers through his shaggy curly hair. 
His hand on the back of your knee guided your leg up to hook onto his waist, once there his hand was sliding up your thigh and right has he was gonna slip his hand up and under your ass there was a bump that thudded against his wall, causing you both to look up. You both waited a beat and he looked back down at you.
“What was that?” 
“Nothing.” He shook his head, praying to god it wasn’t what he thought it was.
“Are you sure?” 
“Totally.” He nodded. “Focus on me.” He hummed, this time kissing your lips in hopes of distracting you from the noise, that was until it happened again. This time with three bumps in a row followed by a loud scream of Shawn’s name. 
Raul dropped his head against your chest, groaning when you pushed him away. 
“Fucking Shawn,” He muttered under his breath as you sat up. He jumped to action when he felt you crawling out of his bed. “Hey,” He caught your hand. “Where are you going? Come here.” 
“I should um,” You swallowed when a high pitched moan sounded. “I need to go.” 
“No Baby.” Raul shook his head. “Don’t, we’re both finally free on the same night. I’m sorry about that, but I’ll put on a movie and we’ll cuddle.” 
“No it’s okay.” You grabbed your bag. “I need to study for an exam I have next week, and I’m sure there’s a party your skipping out on.” 
“No.” He shook his head. “If you don’t want to stay here then we’ll go back to yours.”
“Katie’s at mine.” You shrugged, using your roommate as an excuse. 
“Then let’s go somewhere else.” He suggested.
“Where?”
“I could get us a hotel.” 
You stared at him for a moment, shaking your head. “Raul, you know…”
He sat at the edge of his bed reaching for your hand to pull you closer to him. You stood between his legs, where he looked up at you. “I know what?” He whispered. 
“You know nothing would happen right?” 
“Mhm.” He nodded, reaching up to caress your cheek. 
“So what would be the point?” 
He smiled softly, eyes going soft, tonguing the metal in his lip. “The point?” He said softly, watching you nod. “The point would be getting to spend the night with my love. To hold you all night, cuddle you, feel like we’re in our own world, our own bubble. With no roommates, no shitty dorm food, and no annoying ass brothers having a sexfest next door.”
You giggled at that and shake your head. “I don’t want you to waste your money like that.”
“It’s not a waste, I really want to.” He pleaded. 
“I’m not worth it.” You whispered, shrugging.
His eyes went hard, brows furrowing, lips pursing. “Of course you’re worth it. How could you ever say that to me? Of course you’re worth it. You’re worth it Baby. I promise you that. Let’s pack a bag and we’ll go.” He stood.
“I don’t have clothes here.” 
“Borrow mine.” 
“Raul.” You sighed, not thinking this was a good idea, surely he’d regret this by the end of the night. 
“Baby, if we get into the room and you’re uncomfortable at any moment I’ll drive you back to your dorm okay? But I want to spend the night with you. I want to watch your favorite Rom Coms and eat a bunch of junk food. I want to hold you and snuggle you, and I really want to see you in only my clothes. I want to share a bed with you, and sleep with you on my chest all night.” 
You blushed at his words, nodding at him and walking up to him to plant a small kiss to his cheek. “Okay.” 
“Okay good.” He huffs. “Now you start packing while I go to the bathroom to get that stuff, I have an extra toothbrush you can have.” 
You nodded and watched as he walked out of the room, being sure to close the door behind him. Raul did a little happy dance once he got to the hallway, and knocked on the door to the bathroom. 
“Just a sec.” Shawn called. 
As Shawn opened the bathroom door, Peter was just stepping out of his bedroom. 
“Hey,” Shawn ran a hand through his sweaty hair, chest heaving. 
“Gross.” Raul gagged, Peter following along. 
“Y’all are jealous.” Shawn grinned. 
“No, we’re revolted.” Peter responded, both brothers watching as Raul grabbed his toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant and an extra toothbrush from the drawer. “You going somewhere?” 
“Yeah.” Raul smiled walking out of the bathroom.
“Where?” Shawn asked. 
“To a hotel.” 
“Why?” Peter grabbed his shoulder to stop him. 
“Um well, Y/n was finally getting a little more comfortable with me.” He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck, cheeks blushing red. 
“Intimately?” Shawn asked softly, all boys knowing the ins and outs of their relationships. 
“Yeah, that was until someone was having their own intimate time.” Raul glared at Shawn. 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah ‘oh’ she tried to go but I was able to convince her to go with me to a hotel.”
“Are you finally gonna?” Peter asked. 
Raul rolled his eyes. “No, and would you two stop saying ‘finally’ like it’s annoying we haven’t. I’m happy, really happy, and I don’t want to pressure her. She’s everything to me. I just want some alone time with her, in peace. I don’t want roommates coming home and trying to join our movie marathon. I really don’t want bed posts banging into the wall and my brothers girlfriend moaning so loud I can barely hear my own girlfriend.” 
Shawn smiles bashfully, looking down to the floor. 
“So we’re going to a hotel for a night to ourselves, maybe I can get her comfortable again and maybe we’ll talk. Maybe we’ll stay two nights. I don’t know, all I know is I want her in any way she’ll give me.” 
All three boys stood straight when they heard Raul’s door open. “Oh, hi.” You blushed embarrassed you’d caught them in conversation. “Um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to pack your laptop?”
Raul smiled at your pink cheeks, “No Baby I think we’ll be okay. They have TV’s there.” 
You looked to the floor embarrassed at how stupid your question sounds out loud. “Right, sorry.” You said, looking back to his room. “Carry on.” 
Raul noticed how you wouldn’t look at either of them, and how you curled in on yourself when Shawn’s girlfriend exited his room in nothing but Shawn’s t shirt and walked straight into the bathroom. 
“Hey,” He whispered, getting you to look up at him. “Still with me?” 
You nodded, turning quickly and hightailing back to his room. 
“Have a nice night,” Raul said to his brothers, following his girl back into his room to find you sitting on his bed with your head in your hands. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked kneeling in front of you.
“Does it bother you that I’m not like that?” You ask looking up at him with insecurity in your eyes.
“Like what?” 
“Like that?” You point to his door. 
“Like what?” He asks again.
“Like her?” 
Raul was completely lost, in what you were saying, in the situation. “Okay Baby,” He took your hands. “I’m gonna be a dumb guy for a moment.” He intertwined his fingers with yours. “Like who?” 
“Carla?” 
His eyebrows furrowed. “Carla?” His face pinched. “Shawn’s girlfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay I’m still gonna be a dumb guy. What are you asking me?” 
“Do you ever wish I was confident like her? That I would let you fuck me in a house full of boys, including your brothers? That I would walk out of your room in just your shirt?”
He stared at you like you’d grown two heads.
“Listen to me.” He shook his head. “I’m in love with you. I’m in love with everything about you. Do I ever wish you were different? Fuck no, please excuse my language.” He kissed your hands. “This you right here in front of me, is the you I want for the rest of my life. Please don’t ever think that I want different, because I don’t.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“I am 1000% sure, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more.” 
You sat there for a moment and stewed on his words before sighing. “I packed an extra pair of your boxers to wear to bed tonight. Is that okay?”
He laughed, hanging his head. “Yeah Babygirl, that’s perfect.” 
“Okay, well are you ready?”
“I didn’t pack.” He looked up at you. 
“I packed for you.” 
“Okay well then let me throw this stuff in the bag and we can go.”
**
Raul wrapped his arms around you from behind as you took in the view from the large windows in your room. You knew this room had to of cost him a pretty penny but he was determined not to let you know how much.
“Raul, this is too much.” 
“It’s not enough.” His words are muffled by your shoulder since his lips were planting kisses there. 
“I love you.” You whispered, smiling wider when he squeezed you tighter. 
“I love you so much Babygirl.” 
You didn’t use those words often, actions spoke louder for you, but you knew how much they meant to him and felt the need in this moment. 
“But I’m so tired.” You whined, leaning back against him. 
“Then get changed, and we’ll watch movies until you fall asleep.” He kissed a string of kisses up your neck.
He turned the TV on, logging into his Netflix account and selecting your profile so he could choose from one of the movies you’d saved. He was in bed, under the covers, in a t shirt and his sleep pants when you walked out, a pair of his boxers hanging off your hips, arms crossed across your chest as you were only wearing your bra. 
“Um,” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Can I wear your shirt?” 
His eyes were wide, and he had to swallow twice to get control over himself. He has yet to see you shirtless so to watch you walk out in only your lacy bra and his boxers had him chubbing. 
He whipped his shirt off his frame holding it out to you, not saying a word. You grinned when you took it from him, never losing eye contact with him as you slipped it on, and then wordlessly reaching up the back unclipping your bra with one hand and pulling the straps off through the sleeves. He gulped when you tugged your bra off, throwing it towards the bag on the side of the room. 
“It’s pretty.” He murmured.
“What is?” 
“Your bra.” 
You laughed, crawling into bed. 
“And you said you weren’t confident.” He stared at you with wide eyes.
“I’m not.” 
“That was so extremely hot, your confidence right then was-,” He shook his head. 
“Really?” 
“Mhm.” He looked back at the screen, freezing as you got closer to him. “Give me a minute.” 
“What?” It was then that you realized what was going on. “Oh my god, really?” 
Raul looked over at you, “Really what?” He asked breathlessly. 
You looked away as you asked this question, embarrassed you were asking at all. “Did I make you hard?”
Raul groaned and rolled away. “I’m sorry.” 
You watched him as he buried his face into the pillow. “Why are you apologizing?” You laughed.
He rolled over to his back, peering at you. “I don’t want to pressure you.” 
“You’re not.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“So sure Baby.” You climbed up and swung a leg over his waist, straddling him. 
“This isn’t helping me.” 
“Maybe I might wanna help you in another way.” 
“Good lord.” He wheezed when your fingers ran down his chest and dipped into his sleep pants. “You really are trying to kill me eh?” 
“You really liked my bra huh?” 
“I really like you, let’s get that clear.”
“This hasn’t happened-” 
He leaned up, stealing a kiss from your lips. “Baby,” He shook his head. “You make me hard all the time, trust me.” He nodded. “I just don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want to do so I um, take care of things on my own.” 
“Really? All the time?” 
“Babe, I popped a boner in class last week when you gave your presentation because you were wearing my hoodie and had my hickey on your neck.” 
You blushed and looked down at his torso. “Yeah?” 
“Mhm.”
“You um,” You take a breath, “You turn me on too.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes. 
“Yeah?” He asks softly. 
“Yeah.” You nod, deciding to be bold for a moment. 
You reach out and grab his hand, guiding it into his boxers on your hips, letting him feel your wet heat. He groaned low and that did things to you you never thought possible. “God you’re really wet.” He growled. 
“Because of you.” You whisper. 
His eyes were dilated with want and desire and he was fighting every cell in his being to not flip you over and have his nasty way with you. 
“Raul.” You gripped his wrist tighter.
“Yeah Baby?” 
“Will you-”
“Will I what?” 
“Will you show me how to be confident?” 
He stared at you. “Baby you are confident. Look at you.”
“Then will you, will you teach me how to be confident while we-”
“Use your words Baby.” 
“While we make love?” 
His eyes flared with intense fire and he growled as he flipped you over. “Oh god honey you’re gonna kill me.” 
“Is that good?” You asked softly. 
“So good.” He inhaled your scent. “I’m gonna go slow, I want this special. Please talk me through it too okay? I want all your thoughts, your wants, desires.” He stared into your eyes. 
**
Raul woke up with a big smile on his face, his arms wrapped around you, face nuzzled into your neck. He squeezed you tight for a moment, inhaling deeply as the sunrise brightens the room. You shift a bit, unaware that he’s awake. 
“Good morning Beautiful.” His gravelly morning voice greets you. 
“Morning.” You smile, interlocking your fingers with his that are on your stomach. 
“How are you feeling?” He asks you, kissing at your neck. 
“I’m deliciously sore.” 
“That’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard.” 
You giggle and roll over to face him, taking in his sleep swollen eyes, red kissed swollen lips, and pink blushed cheeks.
“So if I told you I booked the room for the weekend would you stay with me again tonight?” He asks.
“And if I told you I packed us enough clothes for the weekend would you accept that as my answer?” 
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emisonme · 5 years
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Easy........................
Camila, about Easy said, "I wrote this song about the kind of love that makes you love yourself more ...". Now you know why her and Lauren have been all about self love, lately.
She went on to say, " I think before you open up to someone you always feel scared that once they see all the stuff you don’t like about yourself , all the things you’re insecure about, that they won’t like you anymore- and when someone sees those things and loves you not only in spite of them, but because of them, it makes you feel truly seen for who you are , and loved for who you are too."
I'm pretty sure we can all relate to that. We all have our own issues and insecurities. We all have things about ourselves we don't like. We all have our "flaws". The trick to life, isn't finding someone to love you, in spite of your flaws. The trick to life, is learning to love yourself, in spite of your own preconceived flaws. Once you learn to love yourself, it's a lot easier to realize, others can love you, as well, flaws and all.
Sometimes, you get lucky enough in life, to find someone that has the same preconceived flaws about themselves, they don't like, and in your desire to get them to see themselves through your eyes, it helps you see yourself through their eyes, as well. That's a true blessing.
That's what Easy is about. The other person don't even see the physical "flaws", that she sees in herself. They notice that she is complicating, indecisive, and overthinks shit way to much. That shit will drive a significant other in-fucking-sane, but at the same time, they'd rather just argue about it, get it out of the way, and move on to happier moments. They'd rather live with her complicated, indecisive, overthinking mind, than not.
They see, what she perceives as physical flaws, as endearing and part of her unique beauty, That helps her to no longer see them as a part of herself to hate, but to simply accept as part of her uniqueness.
That is every young girls fantasy. To find a love like that. Camila was no exception....And she found it!!!
I have seen people making comments like, she is a beautiful rich bitch. Why is she wining about a crooked tooth and some damn stretchmarks. Just spend some of that money, fixed it, and get over it.
First of all, fuck off with that shit. Second, her insecurities came upon her, way before fame and money. Contrary to popular belief, money can't FIX everything.
Yeah, she can get braces for her teeth. Yeah, she can even throw a little money at her stretchmarks. What she, nor anyone else, can do, is throw money at the seed of the problem, that caused her to find all these "flaws", and insecurities in herself, in the first place.
Shopping doesn't cure OCD. Paying a therapist hundreds of dollars an hour, can't cure OCD. There is no fucking cure for OCD. You simply have to learn to live with it. Living with OCD, is irritating as hell. Loving someone with OCD, can be hard also. So, when you find someone who can love you, through your OCD, that's a bonus. (Rose and Rosie are a great example, and so are Lauren and Camila)
Ya know, I was going to go even more in depth, with some of the insecurities, but I changed my mind. Why? Because she is finding her way around them. They no longer dominate her life the way they used to.
Instead, I'm going to explain why this song isn't about any other person, than Lauren....And the fact, (in my opinion) they (Camila and Lauren) want us to know this.
I mentioned above, how they have both been sending out messages about self love. They are both talking about this message, at the same time, for a reason. In fact, they are both giving us the same messages, all the damn time. Either through their SM, or their music, (which is definitely them) they are still the same. They are answering each other all the time. You just have to pay attention and see it.
In my opinion, Lauren told us flat out, "Easy" is about her. How? She wrote up a post on instagram titled "5 things I loves about me". She said way more than 5 things, but the numbers didn't stop at 5. She went to the number 11. Which song was released on the 11th? Yep, "Easy". A song all about finding someone that makes you love yourself more.
You may think that's a stretch, but I have more. You know why, other than the messages they send us, I think "Easy" and damn near all the other songs Camila and Lauren release are about each other? Because they are still together...After All These Years.
Yes, I firmly believe they are still together, and they spend as much time as possible together. You know why I firmly believe this? Because, if you pay attention, and know what to look for, they show us. Camila has shown us, and Lauren has shown us.
I'm not the only one who picked up on it. Another brilliant blog made a great post on another SM platform. Since she didn't post it to her tumblr, I'm not going to either, just in case she didn't want it here, or only wants her followers on the other platform, to know about it.
I'm not going to go into detail either, because I don't want anything getting deleted or either of the girls getting into trouble, but just know, Lauren and Camila DID spent some quality time together last month, and there is proof.
No, that proof didn't come from a "hack", an "insider", or any other nefarious means. It came from one of the girls themselves.
So, when THEY try to convince me, they hate each other, and never communicate or see each other, I call bullshit, because I KNOW it's bullshit. When THEY try and convince me Camila is in love with Show & Tell Mendez, I have no problem calling bullshit.
I base my opinions on things I research and find. I base my opinions on their actions, not on just what we are being told. The girls tell us what they can, when they can. We just have to decode the messages through their SM (when it's them), through their music, and always pay attention to what they are trying to show us, through their actions.
Side note: Camila's night with SNL was great. She was fabulous with her performance and vocals. That skit with the "old" folks was sending a little message about the "kiss" video. That little skit showed just how easy it is, for work colleagues and friends to actually "kiss" just like showmila did in that damn video. IT"S CALLED ACTING!!!!!
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thorne93 · 4 years
Text
The Softest Fire (Part 19)
Prompt: Rosaline Vaughan had it all: fame, money, power, glory, a high status job. Until, one day, she woke up, and realized something was missing from her life.
Word Count: 5018
Warnings: trauma/ptsd
Notes: First Fantastic Beast fic! I could NOT have done this at all without @arrow-guy. They have created a counterpart to this fic, writing it from Nora Vaughan’s perspective (Rosaline’s cousin/adopted sister). Fic aesthetic done by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​.
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Nora and I got ready together like old times. Sharing a vanity, laughing and falling all over each other as loud music played in the room. I let my hair fall down in nice finger waves over one side of my face. I wore striking makeup of a stark black liner and deep dark red lips. My dress was adorned with sparkles, colored in plum that went all the way to the floor. Matte stripes pulled upward, flattering my curves perfectly. The straps were medium sized, highlighting my delicate perfectly rounded shoulders. I had dark silver silk gloves coming all the way up to my biceps, matching my sterling silver necklaces and earrings. 
By the time Nora and I were done, we looked like movie stars. 
An hour before the ceremony, a knock came to Nora’s front door. I told her I would answer it while she put on her finishing touches. I raced down the stairs and pulled open the door.
“It’s about time you men got--”
When I opened the door, my eyes fell on two dashing men. Theseus stood tall in an eye catching tuxedo.
“Theseus, you look absolutely incredible,” I gushed.
“You’re looking sparkly as ever, Rosaline,” he complimented.
“Well thank you.” 
Once he stepped inside, I could properly stare at Newt who wore a black tuxedo. His hair was gelled and styled to lay on the side, rather than wild as usual. 
“Newt, you… A tux?” I questioned, a curious smile growing on my face.
“I know it’s not my usual style but Theseus insisted I treat myself to something.” 
“I think you look wonderful. It really suits you.”
“You think so?” he asked, a bit bashful.
I took my gloved hand and lifted his chin.
“Hey, I know so. You have no reason to feel insecure.” 
He nodded his head and as he did so, his gaze fell onto my body. 
“Rosaline… You… The dre-dress. You’re… uh…” he stammered, unable to find the words. 
“Do you like it?” I tried, hoping that would help him. 
He bobbed his head eagerly. “Yes, very much. It brings out your eyes. It reminds me of the scales on an occamy.”
“But an occamy is blue,” I retorted.
“But their scales are shiny, brilliant hues and you, when I look at you…” His eyes softened on my form and I couldn’t help but blush. 
“Yes?” I prompted. 
“I see the beauty of nature reflected in you,” he finally finished, bringing his gaze back up to mine. Our eyes held the gaze for a long moment and I could feel myself being pulled to him before suddenly I heard Nora’s voice right behind us on the stairs.
“Well why else would I wear a dress, Theseus?” she quipped rhetorically.
I whipped around to face them and Theseus was ahead of Nora, smirking. 
“Are we ready to go?” Nora questioned and all of us nodded. We linked arms and apparated to the wedding venue.
Weddings always astounded me, from their sheer beauty to the romance. This one was no exception. A dark stone mansion stood sheathed in ivy scaling its walls, even appearing to grow inside. Round balconies jutted out from all sides and levels of the building. The four of us walked up to a man checking names on a list. We handed him our invitations and he bowed his head while wishing us a good time. 
We found our way to an exquisite hall that was made to look more like the outdoors than in. Moss covered the ground, flowered bloomed around chairs, pillars, and tables, ivy crawled up the walls. 
“Quite the naturist isn’t she?” I wondered aloud.
“Mmm, yes,” Theseus responded, his eyes going over everything. 
We had over half an hour before the ceremony so we mingled a bit with other guests. When time grew near the ceremony to start, we took our seats and began to talk amongst ourselves. Before long Jeanette made her way down the aisle in a stunning white dress. Not one I would’ve picked but for her, it seemed absolutely perfect. 
As I watched them take their vows a sudden pang hit my heart. A pang that reminded me I would probably never have that, and the closest I got to it was with a lying murderer who tricked me. My eyes stole a glance at Newt who was staring forward. 
What I wouldn’t give to turn back the clock, to go back even as far back as Hogwarts. I would’ve asked him out then. I would’ve talked to Leta, perhaps become her friend and convinced her to do the right thing. I would’ve helped Newt with his creatures instead of years in a cold, unwavering environment. 
But I didn’t have a time turner, even if I did it wouldn’t be enough for me to right the wrongs I’d done to so many people. I thought I was protecting myself by not letting myself get close to anyone, but I was being selfish. 
I should’ve been more like Nora, where no one is a stranger, and everyone loves her. But I couldn’t imagine living through the pain of losing a loved one again. I thought it would be easier if I never got close to anyone, but it turns out, it was a lot harder to stay isolated.
I guess being a frigid witch helped in that department. 
I wasn’t warm because I didn’t want people to underestimate me. I wasn’t overtly kind because I didn’t want people to take advantage of me. I didn’t show or share my emotions because they could be used against me. I wasn’t friendly because I saw what friendship did to Newt and Leta and countless others growing up. It’s all heartache waiting to happen. 
But as I watched these two people fall madly in love again at the altar, I couldn’t help but think that all the pain, the strife, the heartache, is worth it, just to have people in your life you can count on. People who will be there for your bad days and your good. People who will lift you up when you’ve fallen, and stand beside you proudly as you win. 
People like... well people like I knew. Theseus didn’t have to let me have a room at the Ministry. Hell, they could’ve thrown me into Azkaban and threw away the key. Nora didn’t have to hunt me down. Dumbledore didn’t have to help undo the curse on me, or alert Nora, he could’ve easily gone to the Ministry and had me arrested. Newt didn’t have to forgive me or be so kind to me after all I had put him through. 
Which made me realize just how truly he must love me. I knew Tina was still around, still waiting for him, and yet, he chose me, even without me saying I chose him. He didn’t choose Tina for a consolation prize or to replace me. He held out, he wasn’t with her, because he didn’t love her. 
He’s a truly remarkable man, much like his brother, and I almost squandered it away. Most women would kill for a man as loyal, kind, brave, and smart as him. I only prayed that one day I could earn enough of his love to perhaps stand at an altar with him. 
He must’ve caught my staring because he turned to me and squeezed my hand with a smile. I returned the gesture. 
“What is it?” he whispered with a bemused look on his face.
“You’re just absolutely wonderful, that’s all,” I breathed. 
His gaze dropped as a slight laugh escaped him. 
The ceremony wrapped up and the bride and groom escaped to an unknown location while the guests were dismissed to the reception.
“That was lovely,” I remarked as we walked along. 
“It was rather pretty. Were you tearing up, cousin?” Nora teased with an elbow nudge. 
I merely laughed, dropping my head to nod. 
“Shall we make our way to our seats to eat?” Theseus asked. 
“Yes, please. I’m famished,” Newt all but begged, making me laugh as I put my arm around him. 
We walked through the amazing building out into a garden in the back that had a gazebo. Flowers were blooming and blossoming everywhere, greenery of all kind covered the ground and flowerbeds, save for a dance floor under a tent.
The meal was served, along with watching the couple dance their first dance, then when it was done, guests were welcomed onto the dance floor. 
Newt turned to me. “Rosaline, would you care to dance?”
For a split second, I wasn’t sure. I wanted to, of course, but it worried me. Finally, I said, “I would love to.” 
I took his hand and right behind us Theseus and Nora followed. We joined about fifteen other couples on the dance floor. The music was soft, slow, the perfect kind to just sway to. Newt took me in his arms and we began dancing little circles as I watched my cousin. 
They were awfully close. Theseus planted a soft kiss on Nora’s head just as she rested her head on his shoulder and they swayed. At another point, he kissed her cheek and she lit up like a Christmas tree.
Newt looked at me and I gestured with my chin towards the two of them. “How long has that been going on?” 
“A couple months, maybe? It's hard to tell, they've been spending so much time together it's all blurred together for me.”
I nodded, falling silent. I’d missed quite a lot in my absence. Those two were dating, Newt hired a replacement for me, Tina had all but moved to London…
“Things change faster than we expect, don’t they?” he asked a bit more quietly.
“Yes, they do,” I hummed with a frown. 
Newt peered at me a moment, we danced a little while longer before he said, “Rosaline?” 
I glanced up at him.
“I know you hate yourself. I know you think you caused people pain and deep down that's who you are.”
My mouth screwed to the side as I chewed my lip. “Newt, I--”
“Just listen, please?” he requested softly, but earnestly.
After a moment, I nodded. 
“But I know you, Rosaline, and that day at Hogwarts, you could've killed us. You know the unforgivable curses, yet you didn't use a single one. Deep inside, past all of Grindelwald’s spells and manipulations, you couldn't kill us. You're powerful enough to have killed us easily, and you didn't." 
“So you think just because I could and I didn’t I’m somehow a saint?” I scoffed slightly as we still swayed.
“I think your heart, no matter what circumstances you’re in, will always guide you. You’re a lot softer than you let on, or that you believe.” 
My eyes slowly slid over to meet his gaze and we held our stares for a moment, the tension suddenly thick between us. I’d wanted a moment like this for all of my life. My heart raced as my breathing halted. Before I knew it, we were slowly getting closer to each other and then--
Our lips touched. They were so soft and his were actually a little cold, but I didn’t mind one bit. As soon as he went to deepen the kiss though, a flash of stark blonde hair and heterochromia lit up behind my eyelids. The sensation reminded me greatly of Grindelwald. 
Involuntarily, I put my hands against his chest and shoved him away. When I opened my eyes, I remembered it was Newt I was kissing, not Grindelwald. He looked hurt, panicked, and confused. My face was nearly a mirror image. My expression had gone from horror, to guilt, to sorrow.
Everyone on the dancefloor was looking at us and I didn’t say a word as I fled the area. Running into the building, I found a darkened corridor to try and slow my breathing. But the breathing just got worse as a sob built in my chest. 
My first kiss with Newt and I ruined it by shoving him away. I slapped my gloved hand against the wall, the other one covering my face before I turned around and leaned against it.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?” Nora’s voice suddenly sounded beside me.
I shook my head, afraid to speak. She patted my shoulders. 
“What’s the matter? What happened?” 
“I… Newt and I kissed, but it only reminded me of Grindelwald so I shoved him away. I didn’t even know what was happening. Everything was fine but then all I could think about was Grindelwald’s hands all over me and…”
Nora peered at me, understanding in her eyes.
I took a deep breath, the tears finally stopping now that she was here. “Nora, I haven’t told anyone this but I’d like you to know.”
“What is it?” 
“Grindelwald… he… was my first.” 
At first, Nora was silent before I turned to see what was written on her face. I couldn’t quite tell, actually, other than some far off look. “Nora?”
She shook her head to look at me. “Rosaline, I’m so sorry.”
“Me too,” I breathed, straightening up. “I wished that was one of the memories that got washed away with the curse.” I put the heels of my hands on my forehead. 
Nora seemed to be thinking before she suddenly said, “It doesn’t have to count as your first time, if you don’t want it to.”
I scoffed, wiping my face. “How is that possible? It happened. He took my…” I couldn’t even say it. 
“Easy. You don’t give him that power.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I breathed. 
“It is… Would you like to go home and talk about it?” 
For a moment, I wanted to answer yes. But then I thought of my date, the one man I’d ever truly loved, standing on the dancefloor, having no idea what he did wong, when he did nothing wrong to begin with. That thought, made me decide against it.
“No. Not right now. Later though? I really need to go see how Newt is.” 
She bobbed her head in understanding as she walked with me back to the festivities. On our way, two men walking by stopped and looked at us. 
“Aren’t you that bird that was with Grindelwald?” the older looking one asked. 
I stiffened at his name and Nora grabbed my hand for support.
“Why, yes, I think you are! You worked for the Ministry, even ran for Minister.” He eyed me up and down. At first I thought he might say something nice like it was good to have me back or ask how I was doing. I didn’t expect the next words out of his mouth. “You are one low-life piece of trash, you know that?” he snarled. “It’s because of you the wizarding world is in shambles. Everyone knew they couldn’t trust Grindelwald, but one of our own. Someone as upstanding as you used to be joining him is just a travesty. You are everything that is wrong in this world. Corrupt--”
“That’s just about enough from you, sir!” Nora barked, interjecting. “My sister was bewitched. She didn’t join him willingly.” 
“Not the way I hear it. If she was bewitched, why did she agree to marry him? Sounds like her thirst for power never really stopped.” 
“I want nothing to do with that man, nor did I ever,” I stated firmly. 
“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” he scoffed as he started to walk on. 
In an instant, I reeled my hand back and slugged him in the jaw, sending him to the floor. The other man looked at me in astonishment, along with Nora. 
“That might teach you to open your mouth on subjects you know nothing about!” I spat, pointing down. With my blood still boiling, I stormed off and found Newt standing to the side of the dance floor.
“Is everything alri--” Newt began.
“We’re going home,” I informed quickly, grabbing his hand. “Nora, I’m going back to your place. You don’t have to join me immediately.” Then we apparated away.
Once we were in my room in Nora’s flat, I sat on the bed, gathering my breath. 
“Rosaline, what’s… Did I do something wrong? I thought…” 
I looked up. “Newt, you did nothing wrong.” I stood and began to pace. “You did everything absolutely right. It’s just… when we kissed, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Grindelwald and I guess I snapped and panicked and I thought it was you and… And I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that kind of response.”
“Well are you alright?” 
I shook my head, waving him off. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Grindelwald and I were very… close,” I said, my voice cracking as my throat tightened. “It may take me some time to get over the horrible memories that I associate with romance. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it… It’ll just take time.” 
“That’s fine. Rosaline, I’ll wait as long as I need to. I’ve waited years, what’s a few more weeks or months?” 
A soft smile touched me as I stepped forward and took his hands in mine. 
“Truly remarkable,” I whispered before I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I had a wonderful time today with you, despite everything. I even got to punch a man. That felt oddly refreshing.” 
He laughed as his eyebrows shot up. “You punched a man?” 
“He was saying awful things about me being from the Ministry and being with Grindelwald…” I shook my head. “That’ll teach him to speak out of turn.”
“I’d say it would, yes.” 
We grinned at each other a long moment before we heard the arrival of Nora and Theseus in the hallway. 
“If you don’t mind, I need to speak with Nora about something.”
“Of course.”
He backed away a step to apparate but then he stopped and asked, “would you come by my flat tomorrow? I’d like to have afternoon tea with you.”
“I’d love to.” 
With this, he smiled, nodded, waved, and apparated. As soon as he was gone, I poked my head out into the hallway. I waited to see if they were talking. They were, they were actually whispering.
“Am I interrupting?” 
The two of them jumped and pulled away slightly. 
“Uh, no. Are you alright?” Theseus asked. I bobbed my head. “Good. Well… I’ll leave you two to the rest of your evening. Have a good night.” He leaned down and quickly kissed Nora’s cheek before apparating back to his own flat. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, looking supportive. “If you aren’t ready…” 
“I’ll never be ready, but I’m not about to let it take me over.” 
She nodded in agreement as I held my door open, inviting her into my room where I once again sat on the bed. 
“So... how did it happen?” she asked once she got in the room and the door closed. 
“I… Honestly I don’t even know. We just started… dating? He treated me like a queen, doing everything for me, before I knew it, we were going on dates and he was kissing me goodnight. Next thing I know, he’s inviting me to move my things into his room. We stayed in bed together a few nights then one day he was in a really good mood and…” 
Nora nodded. “You know, the whole virginity thing… it isn’t the end all be all. If you felt it wasn’t what you wanted your first time to be, then it doesn’t have to be.” 
“But I was physically with him, Nora.” 
“So? You wanna know about my first time?” she asked as she plopped down next to me. 
“You had a first time?” I accused, turning to her. “How did I--Wait, was it Theseus?” 
A soft, amused expression took her over. “No, but I’m glad you think that.” 
“If not Theseus, then who?” 
“It was actually a girl at Hogwarts… She was a year ahead of me.”
“Let me guess, Slytherin?” I teased.
“Actually a Gryffindor.” 
“No kidding?” I mused. “How? Why?”
“We were friends. Good friends. We actually took each other to the Winter ball, as friends, at first, but there was something there…”
“So… what happened?” I wondered, curious. 
“We eventually made our way to the astronomy tower. It was disastrous, let me tell you,” she said with a laugh, putting her hand on my knee as she leaned towards me.
“It sounds kind of magical, and cute.”
“Cute would be one word for it. Neither of us had any clue what we were doing, but that’s the point when it comes to your first time. If everyone knew what they were doing, it wouldn’t be any fun.” 
“I’m not so sure mine was fun,” I muttered. “I feel so… dirty. I’ve had to live with this memory every day since I ‘woke up’. I have to look at Newt and relive it. If we ever got to that point, I’d have to tell him who I gave myself to.”
“Oh, Rosaline, you give yourself who you give yourself to. The whole concept of virginity is something men made up to make them feel special.”
“Really?” 
“Somewhat. If it feels special to you, then it is. But don’t let what happened to you damper what might happen with Newt.” 
“Speaking of what might happen… Have you and Theseus….?” I questioned.
“Had sex?” 
I blushed at her words, but nodded.
“No, I don't think we're quite ready for that yet. just being physically close is enough or us right now.”
“That’s really nice,” I mused, beaming softly. “I’m glad you two have found your way to each other.” 
“Me too. It’s incredible right now.” 
After a moment of chewing my lip, I asked her, “Uh, Nora?”
“Hmm?” 
“During my… time… with Grindelwald… I would feel this… odd sensation.”
“Pain?” 
“No, no,” I stated, shaking my head, blushing. “This is embarrassing.”
“Nothing is embarrassing. Go on and ask,” she encouraged. 
“When we were together, I would feel this build up then a sudden… rush? Sometimes it would blind me when it happened and I got really tired afterward. Was I having a panic attack or what was that?” I wondered. 
She threw her head back, laughing. “No, that wasn’t an attack. It’s a good thing. It’s called an orgasm.” 
“Orgasm?” I frowned at her. 
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Did you...Have you had one of those?”
“I had one my first time, with that girl in the tower. I’ve had a few by myself. They feel good, if you know what’s going on.” 
I slowly nodded. “I definitely didn’t.” 
“So you want to though, one day with Newt?” 
“One day? Nora, I’d like to do it right now,” I admitted. “I just can’t because society dictates that we must kiss at this time, then move to the next step. I’ve loved him for a long time and I’ve thought about him physically for years.”
She got a coy look on her face. “Well look at you. I never knew you were so scandalous,” she joked as she peered at me. 
“Oh come off it. You know what I mean. With as long as I’ve loved him, of course it’s natural for me to want his touch like that immediately. I just… Between the flashbacks of Grindelwald, Newt being socially awkward, and society deeming it unfit, what choice do I have?” 
She nodded her head side to side in thought. “You could always entertain the idea… yourself.”
“Myself?”
“Yes, it’s quite easy to recreate an orgasm on your own.” 
I frowned. “Why would I want to do that?” 
“To relieve stress, darling. You want Newt and right now you can’t have him. But on your own, you trust yourself, no one to please, no one to bother you. It’s just you and yourself, making you happy.” 
My gaze narrowed on the floor as I listened. 
“And that’s… okay?”
“Circe’s tits, yes, it’s okay. Why wouldn’t it be?”
I shrugged. “Don’t you have to reserve those kinds of things for your partner?” 
She shook her head, scoffing. “No. You aren’t there to make someone else feel good, even if it’s Newt. I love the kid, but you aren’t just something for him to use. You have urges too, Little Rose.” She reached up and pinched my cheek, making me laugh. 
“How do you even do that?” 
She thought for a moment. “All I’ll say is let your hand travel south, think of Newt, and see how it goes.” 
“Oh, Nora, that’s so… You aren’t serious, are you?”
“Deadly,” she said with a mischievous grin and chuckle. “What’s the worst that could happen? You think of Newt while fireworks go off in your head? Isn’t that what usually happens?” she teased. 
I bobbed my head and agreed with her. 
“On a more serious note,” she said after our giggles and smiles faded, “what are you going to do about Newt. Not the sex, but in general. You aren’t working with him, you can’t kiss him without repercussion, so do you want to move forward?” 
My body toppled backwards. 
“Of course I want to move forward. That’s all I’ve wanted for five years now.” 
“But?” 
“But what if he rejects me?”
“On what grounds?” she asked, laying beside me as she propped her head on her hand, staring down at me. 
“Anything. I’m not… I’m not like you, Nora. You’re warm, funny, brave, smart. It’s easy to see why Theseus fell for you.”
“And Newt fell for you,” she reminded.
“But what if he fell for the assistant? The quiet girl who sat with his creatures. Not the girl who ran off with the bad guy and committed crimes.” 
“You’re still the same person, you’re just a bit wiser now with a past you didn’t ask for, that’s all.”
I turned slightly more towards her. “You know, he said that he knew I had the power to kill you all, and didn’t. So that’s how he knew I was still good despite everything.” 
“He isn’t wrong,” she agreed.
“No, he isn’t. Grindelwald told me to end you all that day at Hogwarts, and I didn’t. Something made me stop.”
“It’s that heart, that heart that Newt fell for.” 
I sighed. “What if I’m not good enough though? He fell for Tina once, what’s not to say he won’t do it again? Perhaps with someone else.” 
Her gaze dropped before she spoke. “I think I should tell you something.”
“What is it?” 
“The only reason he even looked twice at Tina was because you spouted off some nonsense about not wanting to let people in. About how it would only end in heartbreak.”
“That’s because it’s true,” I snapped.
“Do you still feel that way?”
“Yes.” 
“So why move forward with Newt?”
“He’s my only exception,” I whispered before looking at her. Her face was one of admonishment, making me laugh. “Don’t give me that look. I… I still worry it’ll only end with us being hurt.”
“Sounds like a wonderful way to go through life. Ignoring all possibility of happiness, for the potential to get hurt. Sound plan, Rosaline.” 
“Mock me if you want, but we both know it’s true. Look at Theseus and Newt. They loved Leta and for what? So she could break Newt’s heart and die in front of Theseus.” 
When she said nothing, I continued. 
“Or you? How long did you watch Theseus and wish you had him? Or me and Newt, I watched him with Tina with yearning eyes.” 
“Yes, but maybe if you actually opened up and thawed that heart of yours, you might be surprised at what you find.” 
“What’s that?” 
“Real, unconditional, true love.” 
“Is that what you’ve done with Theseus? Trusted him entirely? Given yourself to him?”
“Yes,” she said confidently.
“And you aren’t worried?”
“About heartbreak?” She shook her head. “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘Tis better to have loved and lost, than to never loved at all?” 
“Yes, but--”
“Then you know, that even if heartache were to swoop in, that you’d still have your memories of you and Newt. that those memories would burn brighter and better, than any dull ache that might occur.” 
“You truly believe that?”
“I have to. Love is a risk, it’s a challenge, it’s fucking scary. But it’s worth it. Without Theseus I’m not sure how I would’ve gotten through this whole mess with you. Love can make you incredibly weak, but it can also make you incredibly strong and resilient.” 
I let her words sink into me, and I listened, wrapping my head around them. Agreeing with her. 
“Yes, but what if my sins, my demons of my past push him away?” I whispered, tears threatening.
She wrapped an arm around me. “They won’t, not if you don’t let them. You once told me to just go all in, even with Theseus engaged.”
“Well, yes that was because I wanted you to be with him. I felt you deserved him more than Leta.”
“I think you’re forgetting who you are, and who you are to Newt. Just let all of this go, and be with him. He wants you, and you want him, that’s all there really is to it.”
“You think so?” 
She took her finger tip and bopped my nose ever so gently. “I know so. Who here is older and wiser?” 
“You’re certainly older, I can see it in your gray hair,” I teased.
“You little demon!” she said before going in to tickle me. “Take it back!” 
“Never!” I boasted, laughing. 
‘I’ll tell Newt about your wild fantasies!” she threatened with laughter in her eyes.
“Okay! Okay! I take it back!” I said, surrendering. 
For the rest of the evening, the two of us lied on the bed, talking mainly girl talk. She filled me in on the bookstore. I filled her in on what my thoughts were for a future job. It really felt like old times and that is exactly what the doctor ordered.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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cummunication · 5 years
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You’re not “doing it for yourself”; why I don’t support cosmetic surgery
"I'm doing it for myself, not anyone else" is a transparent excuse. Unpopular opinion: I don’t respect women’s choice to get plastic surgery as I think it is selfish and vain. I’ll admit I’m not a fan of cosmetic surgery. I’ll also admit there were many points when I was younger, and still are, where I wish I had the money to get a nose job, Botox injections, fuller lips, a butt job and a boob job. In today’s day and age, the choices are endless. Of course there are times (mostly due to societal pressure) where I’d like to change my appearance to conform to the demands of culture. But I have enough common sense and respect for my fellow sisters to realize that, by changing my appearance to look like everyone else and give into patriarchal pressure to stay “young and thin forever” and look like a Barbie doll, I am doing a disservice to other women. There’s also the fact that by women hindering their appearance to keep up with Instagram models, men too, start believing something is wrong with girls who have cellulite and don’t look like porn stars. Let me make something clear; I don’t believe there’s anything wrong in investing time and money into your appearance; especially if you got into an accident, have a disformity or just had a baby. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to have confidence and feel good about ourselves; however, 99% of those who get cosmetic surgery, do it for others and not themselves. You see, if big butts and boobs weren’t “in” then almost nobody would be getting their tits and ass modified. If large lips weren’t the latest trend, why would people spend hundreds of dollars every few months to get lip injections? My point is, they wouldn’t. They do it to conform to society’s pressure on women to always be sexy and please men. Women are so conditioned and brain washed these days to always stay “fuckable”. Anyone who spends that much money and tries so hard just to receive attention from the opposite sex is extremely insecure (which is a huge turn off). In other words, if you were on a deserted island with no mirrors you would never think twice to get eyelash extensions or laser hair removal. From my experience, people believe that by getting liposuction, Botox etc. that will make them more attractive which in turn, will make them happier. This is simply not true and all an illusion. I used to believe this also (so I’m not judging) and sometimes I still am convinced that if only I was shorter, skinnier etc. I would have a better life. Although it is true that attractive people do have more perks in life than unattractive people (unfortunately), it starts to become this moving target you will never hit. Once we get the eyelash extensions, then we are “too pale” so we need the spray tan. Once we get the fake nails then we need the long hair so we get hair extensions. It’s never enough and you are never satisfied with what you have. I’m not saying everyone that spends money on nails, makeup etc. is stupid; it’s normal to want to pamper and doll yourself up at times but once we all start trying to look like or be someone we’re not, we’re setting a bad example for other girls who don’t look the same way (especially the younger generation). If everyone starts getting butt implants then the people with normal or smaller sized bootys think somethings wrong with them so they to need to change since they don’t look like girls online without realizing those girls normally don’t look that way and felt the same. When we as women start changing ourselves we set a bad example and start a downwards spiral for other women because then they too start thinking they should conform. Not only is plastic/cosmetic surgery pricey and painful, it can also be dangerous. We are risking our health for short term gratification without giving any attention to how it will/could affect us in the long run.
“The most common complaints after plastic surgery include nausea, vomiting, headaches and prolonged pain. Inflammation will also occur around the area where the surgical procedure is performed. Extreme blood loss is an indication of something wrong during surgery. Studies have shown that people report increased satisfaction with the body part they had surgery on, but results are mixed on whether plastic surgery boosts their self-esteem, quality of life, self-confidence and interpersonal relationships in the long term. Plastic surgery has been linked in the past to depression, even suicide”. Many people can also become addicted to the instant gratification the modifications may provide. “Plastic surgery addiction is a behavioral addiction characterized by psychological compulsions to continuously alter one's appearance with cosmetic surgery. The amount of body positivity in the millennial generation is generally much higher than it has been in past generations. Millennials tend to be more accepting and open-minded. We are sometimes so accepting that we unintentionally encourage harmful behaviors. More than one of the girls mentioned that plastic surgery can be a “feminist act” because it’s “all about your body and making yourself feel better.” I think this is simply a false statement. Going so far as to spend thousands of dollars to make the tip of your nose smaller or your breasts rounder is a direct plea to society to make them love you. These girls say they’re doing it for themselves, but they go on to talk about how often they were bullied as kids because of the size of their nose, or how worried they are about what people might assume or say about their stretch marks. No amount of body positivity can cover up what they did because they hated something about themselves.” If we all just accepted ourselves as we are and didn’t spend so much time or energy trying to fix ourselves to please others then the cosmetic industry wouldn’t be profiting so much. We’d take our power back and as women could start using all that energy, time and money to actually make a difference in the world.
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anonymouskar · 5 years
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Existential pain, the journey to proper living, art and love
The last post I made on here sucked. And for a long time I’ve had no desire to write anything with more insight or honesty at all. I often want to write on here after I’ve had my fits of desperate crying. This is just a ramble of thougths I’m having these last few days. I can’t structure them properly.
Long ass, depressing text (be careful exposing yourself to such negativity, haha):
I think I have been depressed for months. I always intuitively understood depression as a reaction to life circumstances that denied your true self. I’m not at all convinced it is a medical condition. It comes when you have no proof of the parts of you that redeem the pain of being you. It comes when life doesn’t validate your worth. And I think that is mostly due to a lack of social belonging, especially in our digital, individualistic time. No tribe.
To me, we seem to be split in two. One part of us that holds the eternal, spiritual, connected and secure us, and one that holds the conscious, animal, isolated ego us. I don’t think either of these are more “true”. I don’t subscribe to any philosophy that puts one over the other. I had a tragedy happen to me, and it blocked me from living in the animal ego world. To overcome it I had to sacrifice, and I had to face everything I was most afraid of. I did it to be able to live in the natural world. I know that is why I did it. I did it because that was the only way I could manifest in that world. I didn’t do it because I thought it would make me happy, really. I did it just to make myself possible.
We all have loads to carry. And we all know with outselves that we are deeply flawed. I know about myself that I’m scared, perverted, spiteful, jealous, limited, ugly, stinking. We all know this about ourselves. It makes it hard to love ourselves. I’m not sure loving yourself is even possible. I’ve tried so much self-help in attempts to reach that, I’ve tried strengthening my ego, I’ve tried deconstructing it, I’ve tried to examine my unconscious, I’ve tried grounding myself in my body, I’ve tried alone, I’ve tried with others, I’ve tried to be stoic, I’ve tried reprogramming my unconscious. But I still can’t reach the conclusion: I am worthy. In fact I think I’m totally unworthy. And I also think that about almost every other person. Because when I look around, I see despair, dysfunction, fear - but in that I see what is beautiful, too. I love others because they are limited, scared, voulnerable. And I can appretiate that in myself, but I still don’t see worthyness.
It remains to me a total mystery that someone can just know they are worthy. Worthy of love, connection, recognition. It’s a mystery to me that someone can know that about themselves. I can’t comprehend ever living like that. Like I’m a man someone I like could want. Or that I’m someone anybody could want to live with. In fact, when people who have initially liked me, and invited me to them, I’ve always seemed to massively dissapoint them. Too shy to open up. Too scared to stand sexual tension. Too self-hating to be patient with. Too quiet to be entertained with. Too passive to excite. I dissapoint, disgust and bore.
I didn’t think I would find myself crying myself to sleep at this point. I’m 23, I’ve gotten my life somewhat in order. Seen from the outside I have every reason to smile now, compared to before. I’ve grown a beautiful beard, I’m built and slim. I look better than I ever have. I sometimes think I’m sexy. I dress well. I paint better than I ever have before, I’m in better shape than ever. I know more now than ever. I’ve taken responsability for my own life and earn my own living doing something I enjoy. I have enough money now to spend on things that should inspire me. But I look around at my paintings, and all I see is failed attempts. I found myself thinking exactly that. “Fucking ugly failed attempts”. It’s harder than ever for me to paint, because I know I will end up hating every single painting. There are two paintings I’ve ever made that I love, and those are exactly the ones I’m ashamed to show anyone because they are kitschy clishes. I’m a clishe.
I tried as good as I could manage, where I was at, to live, but I always end up looking back at failed attempts. And as long as I can go back and somehow attempt to correct them, I still have hope, but it rarely helps. As long as there is progress, right? But if the progress never gets you there anyways? When has progress ever gotten us anywhere good? “I’m making progress”, well, isn’t that just an empty hope? Isn’t hope just a reason to prolong suffering?
Hope has been such a defining word in my life. It’s has been the reason I bothered to go on. I’ve never seriously contemplated taking my own life, but I’ve had fantasies of dying. On a plane for example, I’d imagine being relieved if it crashed. Don’t think I could ever sit in a moment with myself and decide to die, but maybe accepting it with a sigh of relief if death came to me.
The way I can most accurately describe how it feels to live right now, is swimming in the ocean. I’m just keeping my head over water, if I constantly swim. And it’s not that I see anywhere to swim to, I’m merely motivated by my absolute fear of sinking into despair underneath me. The ocean is made up of resignation from life. It’s where I came from. I swam up so that I could give myself a chance to experience life. And around me, I see others doing the same, but they all seem to have something to hold onto. A piece of wood, a direction, another person, an island even. Something to give them some relief.
I was told you could choose in life. You could choose to pursue what made you happy. Isn’t that the great narrative of this era. “Become the best version of yourself, be true to yourself and become happy at last”. Well, for one it seems to me that we have almost no control over our own choices. I’m sceptical to free will. Because how can I choose my desires? How can I choose my temperament? How can I choose my choices? What leads me to act as I do seems to me to be totally beyond me. Those are forces that are ancient, mysterious and so much stronger than me. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to reprogram myself. I’ve tried that by constructing a life that would demonstrate to me who I could be. I’ve tried to narrate my own story. I’ve asked myself “What do you want to experience?”, and I’ve tried to pursue that.
And you could ask, why force it? Why outline expectations of a life experience? Why seek out experience? Well, what other reason would there be to come to this life, than to experience? I WANT to exerience. I deeply want to. I want to experience connection, love, sex, friendship, passion. I want to fuck a woman like a man. I want to smile and look at her tenderly. I want to be a father to a child. I want to travel somwhere with a family. I want to go on hikes. I want to paint good paintings. I want to drive a car to my house. I want to have a garden and see my wife work in it while she sings to herself. I want to walk out of the shower with her in the room. I’m willing to pay for these things with years of pain. That is another life lesson I’ve learned. You have to pay for everything that is good, with pain. But I don’t see myself getting closer to it. “Progress”. Aren’t these the things that matter in life? If I died now, I know I’d think about my moments of greatest intimate connection and intimacy. I would think of smiles, glances, touch, voulnerable words shared. So, that is what I want to experience, because I think this IS what truly matters. I think it is what almost every person alive is mostly concerned with. Connection.
What upsets me most, lately, is my constant ruminations on my failed romance. Again and again and endlessly I blame myself for it all. I think back on all the oppertunities that presented themselves to me. She forgave my foolish mistakes again and again. I did everything wrong in the book, and still she came back. I said self-defeating things, I teased her too much, I was unclear in my communication, I was weak and afraid, endlessly insecure, I talked to much, I self-pitied, I over-shared. Did everything wrong. When I looked at her, alone in a room, when the atmosphere was tender and I melted inside because she was so oddly familiar and curious and beautiful. I looked away and acted cold because I was afraid of rejection. And I ended up making her reject me because I rejected myself. And I hate myself more for doing that. I never learned to stop, I just learned to hate myself more. Now when I see her I can see how she wants away from me. She is awkward. Maybe she’s ashamed too. I can’t do anything about it. But it makes me cry every time. I think I still love her. Stupid me, I love her. I love how she is. I saw a promise in her when I first met her. I found something that felt like I could belong to. I connected. I attatched myself. I thought she could nurture me, like people who matter nurture each other. It’s no shame in that, is there? Is there shame in needing validation and nurturing? Isn’t that what we all do?
Then why did I fail? If I fail again and again, in sexual, romantic encounters, then surely it’s me, and I should understand it personally, right? It’s not constant bad luck. I take it personally because it demonstrates how I can’t be who I wanted to experience life as, no matter how hard I try. And it’s a total mystery to me how someone can just accept love. They don’t know how lucky they are. Every person who has ever had someone knew that they were worthy, loveable, no matter how dysfunctional the relationship.
I don’t know that, and life demonstrates to me that I’m not.
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imagitory · 5 years
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54
54) Cabinet Battle #3 - Is there something you know you’re hypocritical about? 
Whew – starting with a personal one! *takes a breath* Okay…
Throughout my life, I’ve had many friends with less-than-stellar parents. It’s something I’m a bit sensitive to, considering my own uncomfortable relationship with my father.
My parents split when I was seven, and my father dropped out of my life from an emotional standpoint until I was about ready to graduate high school. He was physically around – he paid child support and I visited him – but he stopped involving himself in my life and even when I would visit him, he would frequently hide away in his office rather than spend time with me. He wouldn’t be awake until almost 11 AM every morning and he never kept anything like cereal or snacks that I could eat in the house, so I used to have to hide a box of water crackers (one of the few things that didn’t need preparation that I found in the cupboard) in my room and eat those until my dad was awake and could make breakfast. He almost never came to any of my plays in middle or high school or even the end-of-the-summer shows we would do for my summer theater programs, even though he was once a performer himself and I always wanted him to be there. He never asked to read any of my poetry or stories, even when that became my primary mode of expressing my darker feelings – even if I might not have been comfortable enough to share them with him, such interest, like the kind my mom, my aunt, my friends, my teachers, and my godmother had, would’ve still been validating. He never knew any of my teachers and almost none of my friends, and he had absolutely no interest in learning anything about my interests excluding the ones that were directly tied to his, like artists he had CDs for that I liked. This isn’t even touching on how the first woman he dated after the divorce (within a few months, may I add) was an honest-to-God, real-life Lady Tremaine, who hated me purely because I was the “other woman’s” kid and hated sharing my dad with me even on the few days I would come over, and basically forced me to hide away in the guest room at their apartment and not bother them the entire time I was there. And the worst part? I refused to tell my mom (who I even now am very close to) about any of this because I internalized everything that happened and convinced myself that what I was going through was nothing I couldn’t handle and that it was probably partly my fault anyway. I didn’t tell her about how terrible Dad’s first girlfriend was to me, about how Dad had basically let her walk over me – about how Dad was so obsessed with his own life apart from ours that he seemed to never have time for me, and yet he was so content just hiding away in his games and ignoring me when I was over – how hurt I had been when, after promising he’d call every night before bed after the divorce, he stopped his nightly calls within a week.
After all that, when I turned 17, he became interested again – but not in the way most children would like. He suddenly had random advice for me, like that I should go get an internship in a law office, even though at the time I was working to become a teacher. When I considered going into Film and Television, he started crowing about how I would one day be giving a speech to the Academy for Best Actress and thanking my parents for all of their support, which was sort of encouraging but also sort of unhelpful as even I knew that I wasn’t going to make it as an actress thanks to my lack of Hollywood-worthy looks and how much I’d already been pidgeon-holed role-wise. When I started working for Disney, he started flip-flopping about whether I should become the CEO of the damn company or if I should drop the job like it’s hot because I could earn so much more money. He’s even recently suggested that I drop my comfortable roommate-ship near my job to move in with him and his new girlfriend in another state so I can get a degree in Hospitality and work in one of the hotels there…all while completely ignoring that I’m both fighting for my financial and physical independence and still in love with my current job.
Despite all the ways he has hurt me, however, I still love my dad. He’s a superbly flawed human being, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his strengths. He’s an amazingly sharp, witty, sensitive man who has been hurt a lot in his life but still tries very hard to keep going, no matter what. Our attitudes have always been very similar, despite our different approaches to life – we both get super passionate about our interests and about politics; we’re both incredibly sensitive people who hide our insecurities and express ourselves best through the written word; we both love music, film, and the arts; we both are pie-in-the-sky dreamers who are enamored with different cultures; we’re both huge geeks with a love of fantasy…we even both share the bad habit of getting passive-aggressive during arguments, though I’ve tried hard to fight that inclination. He lost his wife (my stepmother) two years ago, and it shattered his whole world. (It broke my heart too, and my mom and stepmom were actually good friends, so it hurt her a lot as well.) My dad cut his mother out of his life for many years, only reconnecting with her when I was starting college, and I’ve seen how much it hurt him. Along with his second wife, he’s also lost both his older sister and his best friend to premature death.He’s never had the familial support network that I’ve had, and he’s never had much luck, but he’s an unbelievably strong person who always tries and always fights. He believes in a higher ideal and won’t settle for anything less. He may not know me, really, but he still loves me and he still wants me in his life. Even his not-so-great attempts at affection – pressuring me toward certain career paths, over-inflating my talents, trying to engage me through his interests rather than engaging with mine – are undoubtedly sincere attempts. He’s a true Gryffindor, valiant and noble despite his shortcomings, and I’ve actively fought to keep in my life, even if it means never fully broaching the extent of our divide. I have to constantly sidestep and leap over it, pretending it doesn’t exist, because if I do call attention to it, it might rip itself so wide that my dad might cut himself off for good. Even if I can’t exactly forget, I have to forgive him.
Okay, so really long backstory, what’s this all building up to? My hypocrisy is that although I’m always so supportive of my friends when they cut family members, significant others, or friends out of their lives for the harm they’ve done, I will never, ever do so with my father. I’ve had plenty of friends expressing disbelief and upset that I haven’t. But call me a hypocrite if you want, I can’t do it. I’ve seen the pain that can come from cutting a parent out of one’s life, after seeing my father with his mother, and I’ve promised myself that I will try hard only to emulate my father’s best self, not his mistakes.
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Hamilton Ask!
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What Does ADHD Look Like In Girls? - Things I Wish I Knew Ten Years Ago
Hello world!  
I'm back, as promised, and today I'm going to talk about some stuff I wish I knew ten years ago- ADHD symptoms that are common in girls but often get overlooked. Why, you may ask? Because a teacher or parent normally won't notice that a child is struggling unless it's very apparent – if she is extremely hyperactive and disruptive, for example – or if the child admits that they are struggling. That girl in the corner who's always daydreaming, but still gets good grades? Or the one who has a hard time making friends or making relationships work, but otherwise seems "normal" (whatever that means)? She's going to be passed over while her teacher is busy worrying about the boy who can't stay in his seat for more than five minutes. Plus, girls with ADHD are more likely than boys to internalize their struggles, so if you or your child is anything like me, you might not realize something is off until high school or even later, and even when you do, you might be too embarrassed to ask for help.
If anyone besides my mom ever starts reading this blog, one thing that would make me really really happy and feel as if I've made a difference is if even one young woman out there doesn't have to go through the failed relationships, ruined friendships, and lost semesters that I had to go through before she realizes something deeper is going on than just laziness and being emotional. If you're a girl who often feels like she's getting in her own way and suspects there might be something up, but aren't really sure what it might be, here are some often-overlooked ADHD symptoms that you might relate to.
1.   Daydreaming/Getting Bored in School
As long as I can remember, I've had a hard time paying attention in class. When I was very young, I would get called out for daydreaming all the time. I worked on my French homework in science class, flipped aimlessly through my agenda while the teacher was talking, and doodled all over ever single desk I've ever sat in. In grade five, I got in trouble for – get this – reading a book during a spelling test. Don't ask me how I thought I was gonna get away with that, but I was sooooooo booooooored and the teacher was taking soooooo loooooong to read these words that I knew how to spell in grade one. That's a big reason why inattentiveness in female students often gets overlooked- girls with ADHD don't usually perform poorly, especially in elementary school. Because I was gifted, my inattentiveness was treated as a quirk rather than a problem. I had a handful of teachers who tried to give me harder work to keep me motivated, but more often than not I was left to entertain myself. It always bothered me that kids who needed extra help got IEPs, the latest learning technologies, and one-on-one time with the teacher, but kids like me, who needed an extra challenge, were neglected
 2.     Impulsive Spending
The most important thing to keep in mind when analyzing the behaviour of people with ADHD is that our brains don't produce or transmit enough dopamine, which is the feel-good chemical that controls reward-motivated behaviour. Because of that, we seek out anything that will give us a dopamine rush... the only problem is that those behaviours are usually impulsive. You know the saying money can't buy happiness? Yeah, not necessarily true for ADHD brains. At least for a little while after buying something we've managed to convince ourselves we so totally need, we actually do feel really happy, because we're experiencing a dopamine high. My friend recently got me into doing my makeup properly, and I'm embarrassed to admit how much I've spent at Sephora in the last month.  I know it's dumb, but I do it anyway. Why? Because ADHD brains have a hard time distinguishing what is urgent from what is important. Once I get it in my head that I need that contour kit right now (because what if a surprise event comes up in the next week?), I can't convince myself otherwise. That sense of urgency releases dopamine, which tells my brain that wasting $60 to look more like the MUAs on Instagram will make me happy. And for an hour or two it does!... Until I look at my bank account.  
3.     Relationship Problems
So, dopamine rush-producing behaviours are usually impulsive, right? What does that look like when it comes to romantic relationships? Dopamine-seeking brains love anything that's new and novel, and that includes the first phase of a relationship, when you're sooooo in love and can't get enough of each other. Of course, that phase ends, and neurotypical people settle into a more lowkey relationship just fine. ADHD brains? Not so much. If you don't recognize what you're experiencing as a dopamine withdrawal, you may interpret it is a lack of love from your partner, or as a sign that the relationship is getting boring. I tend to fall into the first category, and people like me can become really insecure thinking that our partner doesn't care about us. We become excessively demanding and need dramatic displays of affection all the time, which naturally alienates our partners. If you're somebody who just gets bored, that can result in two unhealthy behaviours: one, moving really quickly from one relationship to the next and never learning how to be alone, and two, cheating. If any or all of these three behaviours are a pattern in your life, you just might have a dopamine shortage, and are unknowingly looking to your partner(s) to fix it.
4.    Word Vomit
It's really hard for me to explain my tendency to over-explain every little thing (ha, that's ironic), especially if I'm nervous about it. Have you ever taken seven sentences to say something that could have been said in one? Found yourself repeating the same thing in different words three times? I find I do this the most when I'm apologizing, or trying to explain why I did something that someone else didn't like or understand. You think you're being helpful, but really you're just annoying the other person. Then you realize how annoying you're being, and apologize for being annoying five times, and now they're annoyed with you for apologizing for being annoying... okay, that's when you know it's time to turn your phone off and cool down. On top of excessive explaining, ADHD brains can get a little word vomit-y when we're talking about something we're passionate about. Just ask my mom- get me on the Israeli occupation of Palestine, or, at the moment, information about ADHD, and you won't get me off it. Sometimes we don't really know when to shut up. If you have a tendency to keep talking even when you know nobody is listening anymore, then you might want to keep reading.
5.    Road Rage
Everybody road rages once in a while (okay, I'm told that not everyone does, but I don't believe it. Come on, how can you NOT scream at the person in front of you going 5 km under the speed limit?) but I legitimately feel claustrophobic and panicky if I'm on a four-lane highway stuck behind a car in each lane going the same speed and I can't get out to pass them. If the person in front of me is doing something stupid, I could literally run them over I get so frustrated, and not just if I'm already cranky- I yell at someone on the road every single day. I'm told this is “apparently” because of our “inattentiveness” and “inability to sit still”, and not because everyone else on the road is a freaking idiot. I don't know if I believe it, but that's what I'm told, anyway. ADHD brains are also more likely to get into car accidents. I've never been in a major accident while driving, thank God, but I'm only 22, and I've had four minor fender benders that, embarrassingly, didn't involve other cars, but me driving into things in parking lots. Once, I just wasn't looking behind me and backed into a pole. Another time, I thought that texting in the Tim Hortons drive-thru was a good idea. You get the idea.
6.   Forgetfulness
Again, everybody forgets things once in a while. But if you're forgetting or misplacing your homework, your car keys, your purse, your work pants (yes, I have actually lost a pair of pants before) every single day, then there might be a problem. Once, I parked my car near campus, spent the day studying in my friends' office, and then got a ride back to my car at the end of the day. My friend Dan was driving up and down the street I told him I had parked on asking me "is that your car? What about that one?" before I realized that I had parked on a different street on the other side of campus. I never thought being a bit scatterbrained was a problem, and if it only happens once in a while, it probably isn't. But all of these symptoms together paint a different picture.
7.    Difficulties With Motivation
I never really enjoyed studying, and I guess I was lucky that throughout grade school and high school, I didn't have to do very much of it. It's not that I didn't like learning, it's just that studying for extended periods of time is so boring. Even in my first three years of university, my super strict immigrant parents watched me like a hawk, so I did what I needed to do, as difficult as it was at times. That all changed when my fourth year rolled around and I moved to Ottawa for an exchange. With no one to stand at the foot of my bed and scream at me until I dragged myself out of it, I just... didn't. It wasn't because I didn't want to, it was just that I couldn't bring myself to. Same went for going to class, doing my readings, handing in assignments, showing up for exams... it wasn't pretty. This can also be a symptom of depression, and many people with ADHD, myself included, meet the diagnostic criteria for depression. The difference is that people with depression can't get out of bed because they're depressed; people with ADHD get depressed because they won't get out of bed.  We aren't lying in bed all day because our mood is low, but because we struggle with executive functioning - motivation, planning, organizing, and self-managing. Those things happen in the prefrontal cortex, and ours are underdeveloped. It can be hard to distinguish where the cycle begins for you, and before being diagnosed, I thought I had depression for sure, but as soon as my psychiatrist explained how ADHD works to me, it fit like a glove.
8.     Starting Projects and Never Finishing Them
This kind of goes hand in hand with lack of motivation, and it's something I've struggled with all my life. It's also one of the very few ADHD symptoms that isn't also a hallmark of something else, like depression or anxiety, so it should be a huge red flag if it's accompanied by some of these other symptoms! Most people tend to procrastinate things they don't want to do, like studying or cleaning their room. A big indicator that you might be dealing with something more than just laziness is when you procrastinate or don't finish even things you actually really want to do. And it's not because you're lazy or don't want to do it, it's because as great as it sounds, you just... can't. If you've ever started a scrapbook and tossed it to the side three days later, tried to start a club on campus but let it fall to the wayside, or created a blog then never actually updated it (I meant to have this posted a solid five days ago, whooooops), then you know what I'm talking about.
 9.       Being Scatterbrained
You're in the middle of a sentence and you completely lose your train of thought. Alternatively, you'll be halfway through a sentence then think of something more important that you want to say and totally abandon the idea you're halfway through and start talking about the new one instead. You interrupt people a lot, because you feel like you HAVE to say the thought that just popped into your head right now, lest it no longer be relevant if you wait five minutes, or even worse, you forget it again in 30 seconds. You're in the middle of an important text conversation but you open Instagram while you're waiting for them to text back... then half an hour later you're creeping your crush's ex's brother's best friend when you realize you never answered that super important text. You zone out while people are speaking directly to you, which makes you look super rude because it seems like you aren't paying attention. Our inability to focus hard on things can affect our lives in ways you never would have guessed- for example, I am terrible at proofreading and finding typos, and the number of assignments I've handed in with words missing from the middle of sentences is embarrassing. If this sounds like you (and if course, if this happens all day every day rather than once in a blue moon, because everybody get scatterbrained when they're overwhelmed), then you've come to the right place.
10.     Being SUPER Enthusiastic... Sometimes
We've already established that ADHD brains can have trouble with motivation and with staying committed to something long-term, but that doesn't capture the entire picture. If you think of depression as basically always being in a low state, ADHD is different in that you sort of swing from highs to lows and back again. Like I mentioned, ADHD brains don't have enough dopamine transmitters, and we kind of get addicted to anything that does produce a dopamine high. So if something does make us happy or excited, we're gonna be the happiest, most excited people on earth. My psychiatrist gave me a situation where an ADHD person might win $5 on a scratch off ticket, but the way they jump up and down all excited makes the people around them think they've won a million dollars. In my case, this often looks like getting really excited about a paper or assignment for a class I'm particularly interested in. I'll take out books from the library and hyper-focus on planning the assignment for about three days... then the whole "starting a project but never finishing it" kicks in, and that's a whole different story...
11.    Verbal Aggression (As Opposed to Physical Aggression)
Although I don't mean to generalize or to imply that every single boy or girl is the same, this tends to be a notable difference between girls with ADHD and their male counterparts. Girls are much less likely to be physically violent, but when you piss us off, or trigger our Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (that's what my next post is going to be about, by the way!)… watch out. You might get a verbal beatdown like you've never experienced before. This is one of the ugliest and most frustrating things about having ADHD for me. I'll tell the people I love that I hate them, that they're ruining my life, that I wish they were never born; I'll pick on the things I know they're sensitive about and call them every curse word in the book... only to regret it five minutes and sheepishly try to convince this deeply wounded person that I didn't actually mean it. It sucks. Big time.
And finally, the one I really wish I knew all this time...
12.    Being Diagnosed With Something Else
Throughout this post, I've given a dozen examples of the ways ADHD symptoms can appear like symptoms of depression and anxiety. ADHD in girls is notoriously misdiagnosed, and girls with ADHD are three times as likely as boys to be treated for depression before being properly diagnosed. Beyond that, ADHD can be comorbid with anxiety and depression. I've dealt with anxiety and panic attacks since I was eight, and was formally diagnosed with anxiety at 17. When I was diagnosed with ADHD, I was told that I meet all the diagnostic criteria for depression, but it was likely that treating my ADHD would make it go away. My depression went away within literally one week of starting ADHD medication. My anxiety did not go away, but it has been reduced by about 50%. I realized that about half of the somatic experiences I identified as panic attacks were not triggered by mental anxiety but by sensory overload because, as ADHD brains do, I was perceiving way too much of what was going on around me and getting overwhelmed to the point that I would experience panic attack symptoms- dizziness, shortness of breath, nausea, you know the drill. Another statistic that would have made a difference in my life is that girls with ADHD are 2.7 times more likely to suffer from anorexia nervosa than girls without ADHD. I struggled with anorexia from age 16 to 19, so this was quite a shock to discover three years later. There's definitely some cool brain science behind that why that is, so maybe it'll be the subject of a future post!
 If you have any questions about this post, or think that you or a loved one might be dealing with ADHD, do not hesitate to reach out to me with any questions! I also want to stress that this might seem like a lot, and that anyone dealing with all of this crap would stand out from a mile away, but if that was the case, so many of us wouldn’t go undiagnosed until post-secondary. I experienced all twelve of these signs and symptoms, but the only ones that pushed me to see a psychiatrist were relationship problems, difficulty with motivation, and verbal aggression. Most of these things didn’t seem like they were impacting my day-to-day functioning- I get good grades, have a job, and have no trouble making friends. So please don’t get fall into the trap of telling yourself that what you’re going through “isn’t bad enough to be a real problem.” If something feels off, see a doctor, because you deserve to live the best life possible. 
That’s all for now folks! Stay tuned for my next post about Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria.
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Goodbye
We’re all clear success isn’t a measure of the cars you own, the house, a perfect job, or family vacations every year. I’m sick of all the quotes that do nothing but bounce off the surface. The supposed pushing of self to do better and get to the end of the rainbow. But a rainbow’s a pretty swell thing by its own. The pot of gold is just a carrot to think you’re getting somewhere. Here’s a thought -- what if every day, you’re already there. Whatever moment you’re expecting when you reach the end is what you’re capable of feeling right here, right now. People underrate the small things that contribute equally to the meaning of ‘success’.
Being a single parent is harder than they say it is. I’ve seen my mom spend all her time with me for the past 2 decades and give up equally much. She stayed in a job just because there was no other alternative. She broke it to her daughter that there simply was no money to pursue medical science. But I see her stand tall next to me; as If I represent all the years she’s put in. Her face has wrinkled, her eyes widen up as she counts out change for the groceries. She forgets things, sometimes even gifts that I’ve got for her. I’ve never seen her pamper herself, try to marry again, or meet anyone even. Her life was simply never in the equation. It was always about me. For her, the measure of success is giving me a life she thought she couldn’t. Not without the concept of a family. Her little ways of knowing she’s done good is letting me pick whatever color of curtain I wanted in my room. To take me around town in a first-hand car. To cover the prices on the menu and warn me not to piss her off. That’s what I’m talking about. Yesterday maybe, none of this would’ve been possible, but today it is. And they’re all a bunch of little things that reflect equally on a point in life when things aren’t out of whack. When I take her out for dinner or book ourselves a spa date she shies away and says its a lot of money. But it also gives her another measure; her daughter is spending on things that were a luxury in her time. Here progress is success.
I remember making a little list of things I want to buy when I get a job. To me, success meant landing a good job. It meant reaching a moment where you can start building castles in the sky. But once I got there, I didn’t feel like I achieved anything. I felt it in the little things but not in walking into a job that I had landed. In a coffee from Starbucks -- a shop that was always far from my reach. In buying books off Amazon and watching the parcels reach an address. In a solo trip where money just melted away. Where I would have the luxury to take a couple days off and see a new place without anyone to steer my ship. I would smile whenever I found myself not giving it much thought but just doing the things I want. That was a little victory. For someone who’s always thought of the money first, to spend on herself. Here freedom is success.
Maybe I’m still talking about elusive things. Let’s come down to my clear compass for a sense of achievement. I’ve seen how movies have it all wrong. A serial killer probably turned out that way because he had an abusive childhood. The villain got his pure hatred because he was bullied in school. She saw violence as a child and ended up in prostitution. What are these character sketches even? Taking a minuscule sampling and repeating it on film over and over again until the jokes along the same vein start to prop up. Those who have gone through some trauma run the risk of personality disorders, clinical depression, insomnia, and a whole host of other issues. But there’s two ways to look at it. Either you add to those silly stereotypes or prove them wrong. And as a strong-headed Aries, I just had to prove them wrong.
The last few years saw me deal with all my big D related problems. I was doing great at work, the organization was bagging awards with things I had helped on. That’s because I had high-functioning anxiety. It helped me be super productive, have my mind on multiple things and move really fast with it all. It didn’t do anything for my self confidence. For the award night, I remember shopping alone trying to pick out a dress that would help me look like ‘I got this thing’. Even when I found it, I felt insecure wearing it. And on the stage a pretty girl smiled and shook hands but I was caving into myself. This wasn’t the sweet taste of success if inside I felt I didn’t deserve it. Getting out of the house was a task, every day felt like I didn’t have the strength in me. It was as though the wind would blow me away. On my bike, riding slow, I would feel the wheels drifting off to the side. Where was my center of gravity? Where was that core that would forever burn my light like the sun? Even on the off days, I wouldn’t like to get near the bed and give myself a break. I kept myself busy because the mind was a great magician who convinced me I wasn’t doing enough in life. It was a slow but painful process. To get out, to spend time with friends after dark. To tell myself that I am good enough, and where I am is good enough. Getting that positivity in me took forever, but once it did, I found happiness in the small things. In throwing a house party, in buying a swimming costume, in trying on outfits that were clearly chic. But that’s where I found my success. And like it or not, these small bursts count more than publications, headlines, awards, piled up gifts, or insane hikes. Success here is gifting yourself memories.
A colleague of mine, Kavya, brought out another important facet to this whole conversation. We ended up good people. People capable of loving, of giving and taking the world as it comes. The intricacies of why it is hard will be felt only if you went through something equally bad. And while I’m at it, let me give a tip for the people who you might be helping out. Please don’t say ‘I know what you’re feeling.’ It gets us super annoyed; not because we’re better at feeling pain but because it is impossible for any human to know and feel what the other person is going through. So stick to more harmless things like ‘I’m there for you.’ or “Do you want ice cream’ -- these we don’t mind so much. Going back to Kavya’s words as we sat up on the terrace talking about life and the like. Loving had to mean feeling. And just the right amount. If you felt nothing or way too much, it could fall into a disorder. I look at us like double-edged swords. On one side we're reactive and can lash out. And on the other we simply are our past, which could be dangerous in itself. To move from there and give love, I started with accepting what happened to me. To tell myself hurting another person because I was hurt isn’t going to heal me. To believe that the other person is deserving of my love even though I have been deprived of it. And getting comfortable with the fact that revenge is reserved for the movies and in real life it is spiteful. It meant building walls because only you are ever really there for yourself. You may have a wonderful partner, a loving family, but at the end of the day no one is going to war for you when you’re not in the picture. Then it was about operating this mechanism where the walls can come down instead of breaking it down entirely and exposing yourself. And this thought didn’t come without a few burnt fingers. Moments filled with too much hope in the world only to limp back because what else did you expect? Moments filled too much hate that it turned the atmosphere sour and made you cancel plans for the fear of ruining it again. After the walls were strong and the self fortified, there was still one big, huge quality I struggled to get. Trust was my biggest fear. To me it meant giving direct access to my castle, to operate the walls at their will. And I just couldn’t do it. Even with my own mom I couldn't. It wasn’t shown in the big decisions like where to invest what. I am smart enough to let people who know it better, do it. But it came in directing her on the streets because I didn't trust her to do it on her own. In standing next to her as she baked cake because I was sure it’ll get messed up. My mom didn’t know about my anxiety issues for 2 years either because I couldn’t trust her to believe me. I didn’t think she would get it, I was worried she’ll not even consider it a problem. That big cloud of imagined consequences kept me from telling her anything about my life. This is something I did with a lot of people. I kept my castle in plain sight and widened the moat around it. The cold distance could be felt the minute someone saw me from afar. I wasn’t welcoming, I didn’t want to be everyone's friend. I didn’t trust them enough to stay, to not leave me behind. And so, I didn’t want to give them any leverage either to hurt me with my own stories. I’ve stayed with one workplace for 4 years, I saw many people come and go. People I couldn’t deny not loving. Sunflowers that just spread so much light and happiness in my life that I couldn’t stop myself from trusting them. And when they left, I felt pangs of loss. I felt that I will be forgotten, no one sunflower will come my way or that this was all just a game. But thanks to them, and the way they still tuned in on my life, I realized trust is something you build over time. It is like a bridge. The walls stay, the moat stays. But everyone who really wants to know you will spend time to build that bridge and stay inside. Success here is letting love in. Till today, I’ve done a great job of not trusting people. Years have flown and yet the closest ones to me know only a fraction. It is an inside joke with myself. People think I open up easy. I share willingly and matters of sensitivity. That I am an open book. But in reality, it’s only the pages I’ve shown you that you’ve read. But now it’s all out, the entire thing. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to let you in, and now that you’ve met the real me, I hope you stay.
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twentysixcount · 6 years
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20 Paradoxes that are true.
Some of the most important truths in life are contradictory on the surface. They seem like impossibilities, yet experience proves them to be obvious over and over again. It isn’t until you look a bit deeper, beneath the surface contradictions, that the real grains of wisdom emerge.
Below are 20 paradoxes which are, paradoxically, still true:
1. The more you hate a trait in someone else, the more likely you are avoiding it in yourself. Carl Jung believed that characteristics in others that bother us are reflections of the parts of ourselves which we deny. Freud referred to it as “projection.” Most people call it “being an asshole.” For example, the woman who is insecure about her weight will call everyone else fat. The man who’s insecure about his money will criticize others for theirs.
2. People who can’t trust, can’t be trusted. People who are chronically insecure in their relationships are more likely to sabotage them. Call it the Good Will Hunting syndrome, but one way people protect themselves from getting hurt is by hurting others first.
3. The more you try to impress people, the less impressed they’ll be. Nobody likes a try-hard.
4. The more you fail, the more likely you are to succeed. Insert inspirational famous person quote here. You’ve probably heard many of them. Edison tried over 10,000 prototypes before getting the lightbulb right. Michael Jordan got cut from his high school team. Success comes from improvement and improvement comes from failure. There’s no shortcut around it.
5. The more something scares you, the more you should probably do it. With the exception of genuinely life-threatening or physically harmful activities, our fight-or-flight response kicks in when we’re confronted with past traumas or actualizing the self we dream of being. For instance: speaking to an attractive person, cold-calling someone to get a new job, public speaking, starting a business, saying something controversial, being painfully honest with somebody, etc., etc. These are all things that make you scared, and they make you scared because they are something which should be done.
6. The more afraid you are of death, the less you’ll be able to enjoy life. Or as one of my favorite quotes puts it, “Life shrinks and expands in proportion to one’s courage.”
7. The more you learn, the more you realize how little you know. The old Socrates adage. Every time you gain a greater understanding, it creates even more questions than it solves. My man Socrates dropping some knowledge bombs about the uncertainty of knowledge. He knew what was up.
8. The less you care about others, the less you care about yourself. I know this may go against every perception you’ve ever had of a self-serving asshole. But people treat people the way they treat themselves. It may not be apparent on the outside, but people who are cruel to the people around them are cruel to themselves.
9. The more connected we get, the more isolated we feel. Despite being in more constant communication than ever, research finds an increase in narcissism, loneliness and depression in the developed world over the past few decades.
10. The more you’re afraid to fail, the more likely you are to fail. See: self-fulfilling prophecy.
11. The harder you push for something, the harder it will feel to achieve. When we expect something to be difficult, we often unconsciously make it more difficult. For instance, for years, I assumed starting a conversation with a stranger was something that was highly abnormal and therefore “difficult.” As a result, I spent a lot of time strategizing and studying ways to relate to people I didn’t know. Little did I realize all I had to do was say, “Hi” and then ask a simple question, and that would get me 90% of the way there. But because it felt hard, I proceeded to make it hard for myself.
12. The more available something is, the less you will want it. Humans have a strong scarcity bias. We unconsciously assume things that are scarce are valuable and things that are abundant are not. This is not the case.
13. The best way to meet someone else is to not need to be with someone else. The defining theme of my book on dating was non-neediness and how that plays out in our relationships. The fact remains that the best way to find a sexual relationship — committed or otherwise — is by not needing a sexual relationship to be happy and investing more in yourself.
14. The more honest you are about your faults, the more people will think you’re perfect. The amazing thing about vulnerability is the more comfortable you are about not being that great, the more people will think you are.
15. The more you try to keep someone close, the further away you’ll push them. This is the argument against jealousy in relationships: once actions or feelings become obligations they lose all meaning. If your girlfriend feels obligated to spend her weekends with you, then the time you spend together has become meaningless.
16. The more you try to argue with someone, the less likely you are to convince them of your perspective. The reason for this is that most arguments are emotional in nature. They come from someone’s values or self-perceptions being violated. Logic is only used to validate those pre-existing beliefs and values. It’s rarely about the objective or logical truth as much as it is repairing people’s worldviews. For any real debate to truly exist, both parties must be making an honest concession to put their egos aside and only deal with the data. This is rare, as anyone who’s spent any time on an internet forum could tell you.
17. The more choices you have, the less satisfied you are with each one. The old “paradox of choice.” Research shows that when we’re presented with MORE options, we become LESS satisfied with any particular one we go with. The theory is that when we have so many options, we have greater opportunity costs to selecting each particular one; therefore, we’re less happy with our decision.
18. The more convinced someone is that they’re right, the less they probably know. There’s a direct correlation between how open a person is to differing perspectives and how much that person actually knows about any given subject. Or as the philosopher Bertrand Russell once said: “The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt.”
19. The only certainty is that nothing is ever certain. This realization almost made my head explode when I was
20. The only constant is change. One of those little banal statements that feels really profound but doesn’t actually mean anything. But it’s still true!
Repost from the UG**
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a-shared-experience · 3 years
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How many times have we heard the phrase, “ you need to love yourself first”?
I’ve rolled my eyes to it on more than one occasion. Aren’t we all filled up on self hatred, self imposed restrictions and limitations? Aren’t we all a little hard on ourselves?
I knew I was my own worst enemy and yet I felt complacent with it.
When you don’t allow yourself to remember the ways you’ve been hurt and instead chase after ways to forget you really are doing yourself a disservice.
Love is all around us in various forms. Family, friendship, romantic partners and what divides us is our deepest insecurities. The parts of us we haven’t healed. We think because we’re told not to live in the past that we shouldn’t ever visit and truth is returning to the home within yourself is crucial, especially if you’ve been running in the opposite direction.
Our roots aren’t seen by anyone but they ground us and remain with us as we grow. We never sever from them. There’s the person we blossom into with time and equally our underworld. The story of how we got here.
Like trees that tower above us with branches reaching in all directions. We rarely think of the depth of their roots beneath the soil.
Everything that’s happened to us , including that which has made us vulnerable, confused, or afraid, is what makes us who we are today.
We are born with a heart filled with love and people come and go who deceive us and leave us feeling naive. It’s good to remember that believing in love is an innocent human quality and being deceived by it is the lack of love within another. What deceived them to make them that way ? Instead of blame you can trace the origins back to compassion. You can always forgive. You can always change.
Forgiving yourself is just as vital. If you hold hatred for yourself you block love. Love that you deserve.
I called in other hurt individuals because it made me feel like less of an outcast. It allowed me to trust their intentions and continue my path of avoidance. We’d get high together, keep our secrets from each other and desperately want each other’s acceptance and love.
I have loved so very deeply and yet I couldn’t receive it. When you start falling for someone and haven’t healed your own wounds they start resurfacing at a time that’s meant to be exciting. Instead of butterflies you worry you’re not attractive enough, you don’t make enough money, you start wondering how much longer you can wear the mask and keep up the charades before they notice. Then in fear you push away, you run off, you hide and loathe the unlovable parts of you convincing yourself the wound is created by the person you were falling for.
Where once there stood another beautiful human that you wanted to spend a life with you begin to feel triggered and unhappy assuming their every move is a reaction to your wounds.
Personally I’ve always hated my body. It was something violated and made to feel dirty. I’ve disassociated with it , hurt it, abused it, and therefore could never be loved fully because it was what set me apart and not in a good way. I’ve always been told I’m too sensitive or too emotional so I’d try and act tough or like I didn’t care and I’d be drowning with feelings trying to hide them with each person who touched my heart.
Sometimes life makes you cross paths with people who taste like candy and inspire you like art and even then you’ll fuck it up because they can’t love away your hate for yourself.
In losing love because of my lack of self love I realized I was lonely and desperate for change. I needed to get back to my roots. Those dark dark places that overwhelmed me. It was crying in bed so hard that it felt like my head would explode, my whole body tensed and shook in fear and still I did it quietly to hide how I felt. It was a rock bottom that felt like I’d fallen down the well and would never be able to climb out of. I was angry someone had made me this way and mad at myself for following their footsteps. How can we offer love when we can’t even give it to ourselves? Why is overcoming pain so scary in itself. What are we holding on for? You can’t forget the pain - ive definitely tried and if $600 of meth a month won’t do it trust me ... nothing will. Just like you can spot an alcoholic a mile away - can you not see the pain of that existence? Pain must be acknowledged, felt, honoured, forgiven and let go of or else you knock on every door with your backpack filled with pain. It didn’t matter what corner you tried to stuff it into it was still there. I was embarrassed of the ways I hurt and felt completely alone with it but in reality , an unfortunate reality, I most certainly wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only kid who’d been violated, the only girl who never went to prom, the only person who tried to Kill themselves with substance or live in fear of the greatest feeling in the world.
I think far too many people relate we just keep it in our backpack ya know.
I’m a survivor of many things, most importantly of life. I’ve got scars, I’ve got stories that people don’t like reading about but I have love, I am loveable, so are you.
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Journaling
Last year: The visitation of Dakinis through my body, in the form of Yumi; that crazy witch! who haunts and loves me still in the aftermath of her blazing wisdom... ...of course, there is not exactly a ‘me’ left --> rather, there are memories and re-memberings, a sense of the aggregates of  Form (this body) Sensation, Perception,  Volition and Consciousness having become heaped upon with the karmic con-sequences of the sequential cons of karma.
The bliss of Samsara was exactly Awakening...
Now, there is a sense of my non-binary Being as a ‘stable’ sense of knowing, and of course this is exactly non-binary with confusion, with vacillation ‘between’ an ‘existing’ binary which needs neither navigation nor dissolution since it is already empty and not in the least bit located as Real, not in the least! *** After reading Jaron Lanier’s brilliant “Ten Arguments for Deleting Your Social Media Accounts Right Now” I finally went ahead and deleted my account last night. So technically, today, Monday 18th June 2018 would be Day 1 of being off of Facebook. Admittedly, I am struggling a bit more with the idea of getting off of Instagram; I had already been, for some time, weaning myself off of dependency on Facebook, though it lingered in the background as a place for my voyeurism (and as a catalyst for generalised chronic social anxiety; not because I thought others had it ‘better than me’ or whatever, but only in terms of encountering the Samsaric omnipresence of rage, and wounded resentments of my already multiply-marginalised friends... I was and am no longer convinced that it was healthy for my mental health OR for our longer term political survival, despite the clearly GREAT things about the medium (e.g. that the disparate rag tag group of us might be aggregated as a network of ‘friends’ in the virtual-ised safe space of my Newsfeed and/or particular Facebook groups).  Lanier’s point in his book on why we should delete our social media accounts boils down essentially to the argument that, in their existing form (particularly platforms like Facebook and Instagram), it is a zero sum game. Their business model is based off of mysterious algorithms that intend to keep their users hooked by fine-tuning our dopaminergic responses to what is shown on our feeds, while maximising the likelihood that we will click on advertising links that cater specifically to the triggered insecurities in ourselves. Given such a model, what has happened is the dangling of the carrot of ‘connectivity’ and ‘friendship’ and for that matter, the promise of popularity, a throng of fans supporting our own righteous causes, etc., while at the same time all of this being foundationally contingent on our giving our consent to being psychopolitically manipulated to remain on their platforms. Now of course, we can argue that this is no different from any other for-profit business. With one caveat: In the case of Facebook and Instagram, because of the nature of the technology, this necessarily selects not only for that which will give us the most instant pleasure, but also that which gives us the most anxiety; after all, it is the most outrageous kinds of things that will be most likely to elicit a click-bait kind of response; as a result, Truth is compromised, and knee-jerk paranoid reactivities are prioritised in terms of what ultimately gets shown through all our scrolls through...  Of course, I am writing here as a racialised queer person (as a 3rd culture kid of MalaysianChineseAustralian heritage) who was networked disproportionately with other folks who experience multiple interstices of oppression; The medium is the message --> In addition to already living challenging everyday experiences, Facebook exacerbates this by normalising a kind of ‘discourse’ in which the loudest, brashest, and most extremist forms of polemic, including of those on ‘our side’ are disproportionately represented on my feed... even if it is only to trigger my emphatically reactive disagreement ... This in itself is a ludicrous manipulation of our tendencies to ethnocentrism... *** In choosing to quit Facebook, I was not and am not intending to make a comment about its being ‘all bad’; I am genuinely scared and grieving some of the aspects of what was possible for me in communication and creativity as a result of my using Facebook (e.g. instant-shares and feedback around poetry, political thoughts, etc.) that I am unlikely to find any easy replacement for. Additionally, I am aware that professional opportunities have come my way in the past because of connections through Facebook, that will now likely diminish as I have chosen this particular bridge to burn as I consider my next steps in how I want to relate more healthfully in my own constructions of truth and meaningness... The mandala of my FriendList, already meticulously parsed out according to whether I would be comfortable outing myself as trans/non-binary/femme to them as particular individuals, or whether we shared religious proclivities, whether they were people of colour like me, etc. had become unwieldly, insofar as I noticed that I was spending more of my time giving my creative and intellectual labour away on Facebook for free (self-justifying this as being about the generativity of intrinsic motivation) than I was focussing on connecting with friends in real life, and outside of the quiet safety of my own home as I have been managing a ‘social transition’ (of my gender identity ... largely, in other words, in my own head, and mediated through the gazes of those who saw me as filtered through the internet).
I have chosen to quit Facebook, because I think, in part, I would like to figure out what it might mean to go through my transition without being further influenced by those particular algorithms which root any kind of egoic investment in the conditions of anxiety, precarity, and only illusory solidarities with ‘frenemies’ who seem more eager to tear down what is disagreed with, than to lift up what is good and offer constructive feedback for what might be improved... * To be clear, I do not think that these habits are inherent in the particular individuals who may have indulged most in this kind of rhetorical battling... Facebook itself has normalised a culture of paranoia in which perfectly rational actors are, in fact, perfectly rational by operating from a baseline of battle, poised for war. After all, when it looks like hundreds of real people are espousing vile opinions and perspectives that cause genuine harm to those who encounter them, it does take a kind of heroism to speak out and speak back, and shut it down as quickly as we can... right? ...Not if, of course, in the first instance, those hundreds of horrible perspectives are actually just amplifications of pre-existing tendencies, tendencies that may themselves find their way into the habits of those on ‘our side’ ... I found myself balking at the extent to which perfectly good people, ‘friends’ (i.e. colleagues, ex-colleagues, wider-networked folks, friends of friends, etc.) wounded by the pathos of imperialism, colonisation, racism, cishetpatriarchy and so on, started to engage in the very behaviours that we denounced in our political opponents: --> Bullying --> Exaggerated polemics --> Outright lying (i.e. making up ‘facts’ that are not facts)  --> Refusing accountability --> Tearing down those who try --> Calling on friends for money and business and then refusing accountability for exploitative practice I realised soon enough that there was no way any of this could be remedied through the medium ... It was the medium itself that was rewarding this --> After all, even if none of us genuinely like this, the culture of fear and paranoia it engenders creates a wolf-pack kind of situation, where it is the pile ons, the likes and the dislikes, the drama created, etc. that feeds Facebook its money, while those of us whose lives and mental health have been stirred up in addiction to the use of the platform itself are being mined for our habits of use (I am more likely to remain on Facebook if I am still-stuck angry with some shit-poster, for example, than I am if everything was already-resolved and I was already-happy with my life), and then being subjected to more and more information that would be targeted to trigger us in our (otherwise justifiable) angers and passions. *** I am only now beginning to realise how fucked up I have become from having spent so much time in my young adult life being molded by these terrible logics under neoliberalism. The paradox of capitalism, in this sense, is that I cannot now deny any of the good things that came from my use! I learned new vocabularies, was exposed to new perspectives, etc. etc. At the same time, I am now committed to engendering new ways of relating to others in my life, including investing more deeply in fewer friendships, so that I can be far less lonely and angry than I have been, and perhaps so I can stop viewing any potential friend from the perspective of how quickly I can tear them apart for something wrong they’ve done, and perhaps instead look them in the eye and allow my heart to melt a little bit before offering loving kindness that bolsters all of our humanity, in the service of a healing that is desperately needed, in this age of fascist precarities. 
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dalyunministry · 4 years
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TOPIC: HOW TO OVERCOME THE WORLD
By. Sister. Savita Manwani
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Let us Pray: Lord we thank you for the very breath of life and this precious opportunity to share your living word. I pray Lord, that you guide us and teach us to hear your voice so that we may be the doers of your word and not just hearers. Glory and honor be to your Holy name. Amen.
TOPIC: HOW TO OVERCOME THE WORLD
The world represents everything that displeases God, opposes His teaching, and is under Satan’s dominion. (1 John 5:19).
Many philosophies, ideas and doctrines distort or degrade Christ and His sacrifice on the cross of Calvary. These offer a salvation not found in the Word of God, and are all manifestations of the world.
The Apostle John points out 3 aspects that mark the love of this world: The desires of the flesh, the desires of the eyes and the pride of life. John 2:15- 17 says “Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life is not of the Father but is of the world. And the world is passing away, and the lust of it, but he who does the will of God abides forever.
¶ Lust of the flesh:
These are those desires that are in us by nature and impel us to do the wrong things. They incite us, even from childhood, to yield to what the flesh desires. They can be described as the satisfaction, passion or enjoyment that is felt by doing wrong things. In doing these things, we give room to sin in our lives.
Galatians 5:17 says, “For the flesh lusts against the Spirit and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary to one another, so that you do not do the things that you wish.” This shows the conflict found in every Christian life. The flesh wants one thing while the spirit wants another. That is why it is important to nourish our spiritual man.
Galatians 5:19 - 21 gives us a long list of the sins of the flesh. These include sexual sins, sins involving pagan religions such as witchcraft or idolatry and other sins relating to temperament and character. The fruit of the Spirit is everything that is opposite to the flesh.
• In relation to God: love, joy and peace
• In relation to others: patience, kindness and goodness
• In relation to ourselves: faith, kindness and self-control
Our goal should be that our spirit wins the battle against the flesh.>If we want to conquer the desires of the flesh, we have to pay special attention to our spirit. We must feed it and care for it in such a way that in the face of temptation, the spirit prevails.
¶ Lust of the Eyes:
The eyes can be a fountain of life, purity and inspiration, or they can be an instrument of evil, perversion, and bad desires. Dr. W. E Vine describes them as being, “the principal avenue to temptation. “The desires of the eyes” can be described as perversions, bad intentions and selfish delights that include not only the sight, but also the mind and imagination. The Bible teaches in 2 Peter 2:14 “having eyes full of adultery and that cannot cease to sin, …” And in Matthew 5:27 – 29; “You have heard
that it was said to those of old, “You shall not commit adultery. But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman to lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”
The word “look” refers to the desires of the eyes, a look laden with lust, which wakens impure images and desires in our minds.
Someone once said, “the first look isn’t sinful but the second look is.” This second look aims to satisfy the mind's own desires.
Beacon's commentary says that this type of lust is “the tendency to be captivated by the exterior appearance of things without looking into its real worth.” The lust of the eyes include not only sight but also the mind and imagination. They seek to satisfy themselves through pornography or unedifying books, magazines or movies. They create an addiction that can only be quenched by giving in to the pleasures of the flesh. Generally, these desires are fed by thoughts convincing us that sin is something pleasant, pleasurable and desirable.
We justify the sinful thought as being acceptable as something harmless and insignificant. And since we haven’t actually done anything we are convinced it is not sin.
What's more, it keeps us from seeing the consequences that our behavior may bring to our lives and to those that we love.
When the mind delights itself with memories of past sexual experience, drunkenness, parties, or gambling. The enemy shows you the fun you experienced, the pleasures you felt, and how wonderful it would be to experience them again. These memories are accompanied by thoughts like, “there’s nothing wrong with that,” or, “everyone is doing it”, or, “I can’t become a fanatic.” The mind does not concentrate on the consequences that will come sooner or later, but on the desire and pleasures it wants to feel again. The influence the lust of the eye has on us is acute. They manipulate our mind and cause us to forget what Christ did for us.
That is why it is good to follow the Apostle Paul's counsel, when he exhorts us to walk in the Spirit and do not satisfy the desires of the flesh.
¶ Pride of life: This refers to the belief that the reason for life is found in the worldly appearance and worth of things, and not in how God values them. Pride is the illusion that leads people into superficiality, inflates their egos, and makes them believe that their worth is based on position, money and friends.
These vanities turn into strongholds for people who open the door to them. Vanities lead them to believe that their own ability has given them positions of importance with their peers. For this reason, some people climb over others in life, violating biblical principles and the will of God. Behind their appearances they hide their insecurity.
An example of this is when you spend more than you earn and live in debt even though it steals your peace. You don't change because you want to pretend that you are rich. You buy designer clothes, expensive mobile phone or hang out at the most popular places. You have been led to think these things win people’s respect.
God wants us to be prosperous. When we love Him, He lifts us to a better position. God, not His blessings, gives us our value.
¶ How the world affects me: The young person's world is not a secret to anyone. It is one that offers parties, vices, sinful passions and a worthless and empty life. The media, radio press and television, along with society push us towards this type of lifestyle. They trick us into believing that to have fun you must become part of their activities. If we refuse, we are labelled as boring and bitter people. These words boring and bitter are the most commonly used words by non-Christians to pressure the believer into doing what they want or say. The world may affect me when I give into its ways. It affects me when I take part in its dirty jokes and perverted comments or accept its invitation to drink and party. It affects me when these activities stop being fun and become addictive when I end up caught in circumstances that I want to be free from but cannot.
For example, an ungodly relationship ends in frustration and deception; an excess of alcohol produces sicknesses such as cirrhosis and venereal diseases are a result of a degenerate and promiscuous life.
The life the world offers us is a mirror that makes us believe that it is true and fulfilling. However, it doesn't let us see the deception and true consequences of its ways. Jesus does not want to remove us from the world he wants us to shine and be a light wherever we are. Jesus said: “I do not pray that you should take them out of the world but that you should keep them from the evil one” John 17:15
¶ How to face the world now that I am Christian?
A. Not participating in what the world has to offer.
Ephesians 5:11 says, “And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness but rather expose them”. Right from the start you need to learn how to be radical in dealing with sin. Don't ever cloud the real issues. For example, if they offer you a drink, don't lie by saying, “No thank you, I am on medication and drinking could be harmful.” That is not true. You are not on medication. It is rather a matter of faith, but you are too embarrassed to tell the truth.
B. Be radical in your stand as a Christian.
Job 22:28 says, “You will also declare a thing. And it will be established for you; so light will shine on your ways”. Decide beforehand what things you are not going to yield to. For example, decide not to go to parties with nonbelievers or social events where drinking and other vices are predominant. By deciding ahead of time you will avoid facing temptation and prevent yourself from falling into sin. The main thing is to decide, “No matter what happens, I will not leave the path that I have chosen.” This is determination. When I do my part, God does His. He brings His light to reveal what we should say or do.
C. Avoid spending too much time with unbelievers.
They will constantly encourage you to do wrong, inciting you to turn back.
D. Look for friends that share the same purpose and goals.
Spend time with those people who challenge you and strengthen your relationship with God.
E. Strengthen your relationship with God.
Spend time with Him daily in prayer and live in such a way that you will not leave His side. When you are facing situations that you are uncertain and doubtful about, it will help to ask yourself, “What would Jesus do if He were in my place?. I will no longer talk much with you for the ruler of this world is coming and he has nothing in me. John 14:30
Allow me to end here. May God bless you all.
Let us Pray: Heavenly Father, we thank you for speaking to us today. Lord, I pray that you empower us with your spirit and enable us also to feed our spirit being so that we will be able to overcome the flesh and the world in Jesus Name. Amen.
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reedthisone · 4 years
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I haven’t wanted to say anything because what is there for me to say. I’ve felt sad and angry and powerless and deeply overwhelmed. Because what can I do. Write yet another missive about how racism is bad? It feels pointless and hollow. How many people of color have spent their lives writing succinctly and pointedly and profoundly about how we got here. And they aren’t listened to. I have nothing more to offer. Anything else seemed trivial and trite.
But saying nothing doesn’t work either. I’m a writer, it’s a compulsion.
It’s not that what I have to say particularly matters. It’s just that I have to say it. To amplify and support those whose voices really matter.
I think white folks have a difficult relationship with racism because we know in our bones we benefit from it and we can’t conceptualize of a society where we don’t. Then we can feel good about being decent people and caring about our neighbors and not seeing color. Because we’ve pushed down that insecurity so deep we’ve almost convinced ourselves it’s not even there. We’re still good people. We still care about others. We just have better ideas about how they should vent their frustrations. It’s not like this. It’s never “like this”, regardless of what “this” is.
But it’s not about not caring. It’s about not HAVING to care. You’re not actively affected by racism so it doesn’t really have to exist. You’re not willfully racist, you’re just willfully ignorant to the insidiousness of racism
The racist is a bad guy. There’s no disputing, that’s the villain. And you can’t be the villain, you’re the hero. You’re white America, that’s your default representation.
I shouldn’t have to draw comparisons to the blatant inequity in the way white protestors are treated, but it should be clear that violence is the default in their mind and they get coddled for it. Showing up to a protest in full tactical gear and semi automatic weapons because you don’t wanna wear a protective mask in a pandemic and being greeted with patience and respect couldn’t be a more timely counterpoint to the response to people protesting the callous indignity of being consistently robbed of their right to life, let alone liberty and happiness.
For those hand wringing about destruction of property, we’ll set aside for now the evidence of agent provocateurs and police escalation and just focus on the simple fact that the oppressor does not get to dictate the terms of the revolution.
We could have avoided this. We could have listened to all the cries of the ancestors. We could have heard the pleas of generations. We could have read the articles and books by people of color. We could have acknowledged the peaceful protests. We could have heard the anger of our brothers and sisters. But we didn’t. Not because we didn’t see it. But because we carefully calculated the risk/reward and bet on the status quo. I suppose that can keep you comfortable as long as you never open a history book.
If you’re concerned about the violence and the looting and the destruction of property, that’s understandable. But blaming protesters for that it is wrong and myopic. They’re not here because people love being out in the streets, putting their bodies and lives at risk. Nobody wants to be here. But what else can they do when they’re given no other options? No other recourse? There wouldn’t be violence or looting or destruction if we’d already made the choices necessary to become a better society. The only reason people are out is because no matter what else they do the same things keep happening. We’re here Because of the cops who provoke violence so they can commit it. Because of police officers who act with impunity and the system of law that lets them get away with it. Because leaders and politicians have been unconscionably slow to fix the systemic problems that perpetuate disparity. Because since the establishment of this empire, race has been used by whites in power as a means to separate, oppress and control. So if you want to hold someone accountable for the rioting then it damn well better start with them.
We’re almost exactly at the century mark from the bombings of black Wall Street in Tulsa. Or what about Atlanta and the massacre in 1916, Springfield riots, or the MOVE bombing in Philadelphia. Who was destroying then? Who’s been the perpetrator and perpetuator of violence since the beginning? Because the success of black people has always been seen as a threat to white supremacy. This concern for violence and destruction of neighborhoods only seems to resonate when it’s blacks you want to blame.
There are protests across the country now, where police are marching with demonstrators in solidarity. Where they are taking a knee and talking to each other and supporting the protesters. Those have not turned violent. Those have not become looting riots. So when we say police escalate, that is evidence.
There’s footage upon footage upon footage of police instigating. Pushing and slamming people to the ground as they walk away. Beating with batons and fists and knees because they don’t like people standing in front of them and yelling.
Thank you, yes, hashtag not all cops. But don’t you see that’s the problem. When we try to distract from the serious issue at hand with defensiveness it just pushes it further and further into anger and keeps the problem from ever getting solved. When there’s no acknowledgement of rationality it looks like the only thing that gets attention is violence.
To be clear, peaceful protesters are not causing this. They have defended buildings from looting and police from attack. But there are two elements at play in escalation. One is people coming from outside and using this moment as an excuse. Interlopers motivated by frustration or chaos, taking this time to express their anger and show that property and money is not worth more than lives, or people piggybacking on that momentum and indulging in anarchy for themselves.
But the other element is more nefarious. It’s white people and police who calmly and methodically create the conditions for violence and destruction. Banking on that first element to take it from there and discredit the whole movement. Giving themselves a green light to use excessive force and take down anyone they want.
But what it also does, more insidiously, is associate names and images of black lives matter and black protesters with violence, danger, and fear, giving white America another justification to guard their internalized racism, prejudicial assumptions, and unfounded fears. See the ad nausium other acts of aggressive racism and murder in just the last few weeks that led to this moment.
We’ve become experts at redefining racism just enough to make sure it isn’t talking about *us*. Racism is the old south. Racism is early Jim Crow. Racism is separate fountains or men in hoods burning crosses on lawns. We’ve past that. We’re more civilized. Racism was fixed by Martin Luther King Jr being such a gentleman about it. Those convenient definitions remove all responsibility from US. From TODAY. It allows us to continue to indulge in our comfortable veneer of peace because that way anyone trying to disrupt that status quo is the problem.
But that’s not racism.
Racism is structural. It’s deep and rooted. It’s insidious and subtle. It’s subconscious and justifiable.
It's in the fierce maintenance of unfair systems under the guise of prosperity. It's the convenient misrememberance of the past so it doesn't sound too familiar. It's in the way we can comfortably accept the bravery of We Shall Overcome while denigrating Black Lives Matter. In how we give pious respect to counter sit ins but froth at kneeling in peaceful protest. In how we can righteously recognize the tragedy of Emmett Till and still think Amaud Arbery must have done *something* to deserve it. It's in the assumption that things are better so therefore they're fine. That anyone who says otherwise is just trying to stir up trouble. That the blood and cries of generations of people that still resonate today are only echos and can be ignored in contemporary culture.
That position is a luxury we don't even recognize, because we don't HAVE to.
We could have bettered this generations ago but we’ve been too scared and too manipulated to work at it. We should already be at a place of progress but instead we keep going back to the starting line. We should have fixed so much of this already but instead we just keep musing about what’s even really the problem to be fixed in the first place. We can not keep asking the same questions just to avoid taking responsibility for the answers.
I once heard someone try to justify Trayvon Martin’s murder by explaining how that specific kind of drink he purchased mixed with skittles can be used to make a drug. That was really said, in sincerity. How are we able to latch on to the most insultingly outrageous justifications, but refuse to accept blatant, glaring evidence when it's presented to us.
I respect people's different opinions immensely. What I do not respect is self imposed ignorance under the guise of opinion. You cannot ignore facts and create a new reality because it's convenient for you and then say well that's my opinion, you have to respect it. That's not an opinion, that's a manipulation. To that end, I will not engage with anyone trying to fight about this. If you cannot mourn with those who mourn, or comfort those who stand in need of comfort, you are not welcome in this space. And, sincerely, I hope you spend some serious time on introspection and empathy so you can come out of this moment a better person, more prepared to be a part of a loving and productive community.
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sunshineweb · 4 years
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Life is Easy. Why Do We Make It So Hard?
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Being locked down at home isn’t something new or unusual for me. I have been working from home for the past nine years. And when I say working from home, I mean consciously being locked down, with my eyes in my books or on the computer screen and my hands on the keyboard most of the time.
However, this situation is unusual for my kids. Like all kids, they are finding it uneasy not being able to meet their friends and go out and play, though they understand the responsibility of not doing so as of now.
So, one of my responsibility as a “locked-at-home-father-with-locked-at-home-kids” is to come up with ideas to keep them from getting bored. And one of those ideas has been for our kids to tell us stories that they have read or heard. It’s like they are enacting as parents and me and my wife as kids, waiting to hear good night stories before we sleep.
Here is a story my eight-year-old told us last night, which I thought had a great lesson for most of us chasing success, fame, wealth, and everything that we think makes life better.
I also thought this story makes great sense in the current times of fear and uncertainty, so thought of sharing with you.
The story is from Aesop Fables and is titled The Town Mouse & the Country Mouse. Here it goes –
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A Town Mouse once visited a relative who lived in the country. For lunch the Country Mouse served wheat stalks, roots, and acorns, with a dash of cold water for drink. The Town Mouse ate very sparingly, nibbling a little of this and a little of that, and by her manner making it very plain that she ate the simple food only to be polite.
After the meal the friends had a long talk, or rather the Town Mouse talked about her life in the city while the Country Mouse listened. They then went to bed in a cozy nest in the hedgerow and slept in quiet and comfort until morning. In her sleep the Country Mouse dreamed she was a Town Mouse with all the luxuries and delights of city life that her friend had described for her. So the next day when the Town Mouse asked the Country Mouse to go home with her to the city, she gladly said yes.
When they reached the mansion in which the Town Mouse lived, they found on the table in the dining room the leavings of a very fine banquet. There were sweetmeats and jellies, pastries, delicious cheeses, indeed, the most tempting foods that a Mouse can imagine. But just as the Country Mouse was about to nibble a dainty bit of pastry, she heard a Cat mew loudly and scratch at the door. In great fear the Mice scurried to a hiding place, where they lay quite still for a long time, hardly daring to breathe. When at last they ventured back to the feast, the door opened suddenly and in came the servants to clear the table, followed by the House Dog.
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The Country Mouse stopped in the Town Mouse’s den only long enough to pick up her carpet bag and umbrella.
“You may have luxuries and dainties that I have not,” she said as she hurried away, “but I prefer my plain food and simple life in the country with the peace and security that go with it.”
Moral: Poverty with security is better than plenty in the midst of fear and uncertainty.
(Source)
This story took me back to a video I had seen some years back of a TED talk given by Jon Jandai, a farmer who lived in a small village in northeastern Thailand.
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Jon’s life, as he described, was easy and fun. However, people from outside the village convinced him that he was poor and that he should move to Bangkok to pursue success. So he went to Bangkok in search of a better life, but quickly felt miserable staying there, luckily returned to his village, and then wondered –
Life is easy. Why do we make it so hard?
In his talk, Jon explained why he stopped chasing other people’s dreams and instead started living life on his own terms –
And before I think that stupid people like me who never get a good grade in the school, cannot have a house. Because people who are cleverer than me, who get number one in the class every year, they get a good job, but they need to work more than 30 years to have a house. But for me who cannot finish university, how can I have a house? Hopeless for people who have low education, like me.
But, then I started to do earthly building, it’s so easy. I spend two hours per day, from 5 o’clock in the morning, to 7 o’clock in the morning, two hours per day. And in three months, I got a house.
And another friend who’s the most clever in the class, he spent three months to build his house, too. But, he had to be in debt. He had to pay for his debt for 30 years. So, compared to him, I have 29 years and 10 months of free time. So, I feel that life is so easy.
He added –
Why we need to follow fashion? Because, when we follow fashion, we never catch up with it, because we follow it. So, don’t follow it, just stay here. Use what you have.
Jon also said this –
We have so many people who finish from university, have so many universities on the Earth, have so many clever people on this Earth. But, life is harder and harder. We make it hard for whom? We work hard for whom right now?
I feel like it’s wrong, it’s not normal. So, I just want to come back to normal. To be a normal person, to be equal to animals. The birds make a nest in one or two days. The rats dig a hole in one night. But, the clever humans like us spend 30 years to have a house, and many people can’t believe that they can have a house in this life. So, that’s wrong.
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The stories of Jon and of the Country Mouse who dreamed of living like the Town Mouse have great lessons for a lot of us who believe that a lot is needed to live a happy life.
The lockdown proves otherwise. I am sure, like me, you may have realised that so little is needed to survive and feel secure and happy at it. The lockdown also proves that most of us have “enough” to live with contentment, if we may choose to live that way.
However, because “fear and discontent” sell better than “security and contentment,” the former is what we get used to live with most of our adult lives.
And that shows up everywhere.
Whether it is –
fear of missing out on stocks that we did not buy earlier but are rising now and making other people richer, or
discontentment of living a “visibly” inferior life compared to our friends and neighbours, or
frustration of not getting everything we desire, or
regrets from the past that don’t allow us to move forward with confidence, or
worrying about the future so much that we can’t enjoy the present, or
fear of failures and of making mistakes that keeps us from acting, or
insecurity that keeps us in our comfort zones even when they stop being safe, or
seeking validation from others to determine our own worth.
The list of our fears, insecurities, and discontentment, most of them unwarranted, is endless. However, not all these are our own creation. As Matt Haig writes in his book Reasons to Stay Alive, the world is designed to depress us and keep us there –
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Happiness isn’t very good for the economy. If we were happy with what we had, why would we need more? How do you sell an anti-ageing moisturiser? You make someone worry about ageing. How do you get people to vote for a political party? You make them worry about immigration. How do you get them to buy insurance? By making them worry about everything. How do you get them to have plastic surgery? By highlighting their physical flaws. How do you get them to watch a TV show? By making them worry about missing out. How do you get them to buy a new smartphone? By making them feel like they are being left behind.
To be calm becomes a kind of revolutionary act. To be happy with your own non-upgraded existence. To be comfortable with our messy, human selves, would not be good for business.
Consider investing for once. Most people invest using benchmarks set by others than what would help them sleep peacefully at night. Reasonable return expectations are looked down upon in the chase for alpha. Surprisingly, this in a game where alpha is a pipe dream for most people, including the smartest.
More people trade in stocks for emotional than sensible reasons. Portfolios are designed to look good. We are sold stock and mutual fund ideas as if our lives depended on them. And that if we don’t buy those products, we are told, we would end up in poverty and despair, even as our friends and all those friends we know on Twitter and Facebook would get rich.
People are led to make financial plans for 20-30 years ahead, while not many are taught to deal in the present with the behavioural aspects of taking care of their money, like simplicity, frugality, and patience.
Financial freedom remains a subject tied only to money and not to the peace that no amount of money or wealth would get us, but which is a subject matter of the understanding within, of course, along with enough money.
The fact is that the more we think that a lot of money is what we need to live happily, and the more we associate money with most things in life, the more we convince ourselves that we are too poor to buy our freedom.
But this is what the world is increasingly designed to do to us – always create that fear, urge, and urgency to go for more, even when we have more than enough.
However, like Haig adds to the above note –
Yet we have no other world to live in. And actually, when we really look closely, the world of stuff and advertising is not really life. Life is the other stuff. Life is what is left when you take all that crap away, or at least ignore it for a while.
Practice this in investing too, and you will be at great peace always. Take all that crap away – unwanted noise, advice, and financial products – and stick with what is the bare minimum, including the idea of having enough money and that’s it.
You won’t then have to wait for your financial freedom in the future, for the worry about having a lot of money will disappear right away, and you will start feeling grateful for what you have right now – adequate food, safe shelter, and the company of your loved ones.
That world won’t depress you, believe me.
I would like to end the post with a story I shared with my kids recently. It is about a monk and a minister.
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Two close boyhood friends grow up and go their separate ways. One becomes a humble monk, the other a rich and powerful minister to the king. Years later they meet up again.
As they catch up, the minister (in his fine robes) takes pity on the thin, shabby monk. Seeking to help, he says: “You know, if you could learn to cater to the king you wouldn’t have to live on rice and beans.”
To which the monk replies: “If you could learn to live on rice and beans you wouldn’t have to cater to the king!”
Stay safe, stay sane, and be grateful for this life.
And as Jon said, life is easy…let’s not make it hard.
The post Life is Easy. Why Do We Make It So Hard? appeared first on Safal Niveshak.
Life is Easy. Why Do We Make It So Hard? published first on https://mbploans.tumblr.com/
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