#emotional maturity

[philippeauguste]

Stede takes Ed’s death with so much dignity. He’s usually very expressive, dramatic in the way he shows his emotions.

But when he sees Edward’s “dead” body, we can see the quiet hurt and grief and pain.

When he goes to see the Revenge’s crew in their jail, to confront them, he doesn’t cry or yell. Stede is probably in an incredible amount of pain there, after all, he missed Ed by days. And he feels responsible for his state of mind. But you can also see that he understand that the crew didn’t have a choice anymore.

Then he breaks them out to save them. Acting like a true captain. Doing the right thing. Saving the very people who killed (so he thinks) the man he loved.

There’s so much growth here. Stede takes on the role of leader naturally for the first time. He actually divides a good plan and it works.

Then he goes to see Ed’s body and start to crumble when there’s no one to see him. It’s beautiful.

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede #blackbeard #ofmd 2 #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #ofmd 2 spoilers #emotional maturity #is that you?

[titleknown]

REBLOG IF YOU WISH YOU HAD EMOTIONALLY MATURE PARENTS!

#i predict this one getting distressingly popular #parents #bad parents #emotional maturity

[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Tips To Become More Emotionally Intelligent

Embrace self-awareness & self-reflection: Observe how you feel, behave, and how people generally respond to your words/actions in different situations

Practice self-regulation: Learn to differentiate between your feelings and the actions that would be appropriate in a specific setting or interaction. Internalize that feelings are fleeting and non-factual. You're in control of how you respond/(don't) act on these emotions

Engage in active listening: Pay attention to what others are saying with the intent of understanding, not responding

Focus on emotional differentiation: Understand where your thoughts, feelings, intentions, and opinions end and another person's identity/perception begins

Display radical empathy and acceptance: Understand that almost all people's words and actions result from their own beliefs, past experiences, and current life circumstances/priorities. Put yourself in their shoes when attempting to understand their choices, behaviors, and times they come to you to discuss a problem, success, or major life decision. Accept that you can only control what you do. Very little of other people's actions/the world's workings are personal. Things are happening around you, not to you

Let go of your ego: View yourself as objectively as possible with the potential for improvement. Abolish any superior complex or overwhelming desire to prove your self-importance in others' lives and decisions

Remain open-minded: Question your own beliefs and opinions. Stay curious as to why you believe them to be true/authentic to you. Allow your opinions to change or have the capacity to modify your beliefs upon hearing new information. Understand your worldview and values are valid, but they're not definitively correct beliefs, just because they resonate/feel comfortable for you

Be receptive to feedback: Embrace constructive criticism as a self-improvement tool. Approach it with curiosity and optimism, not as a personal attack

Differentiate between your feelings and capabilities: Your thoughts are not facts. Remember you can do things you don't feel like doing most of the time (work, waking up in the morning, working out, etc.). Learn the difference between being a slave to your emotions and genuinely running out of energy

#emotional intelligence #emotional regulation #emotional maturity #inner work #social skills #socializing #networking #social interaction #emotional resilience #people skills #self improvement #successhabits #glow up tips #femme fatale #dark femininity #dark feminine energy #it girl #high value woman #the feminine urge #queen energy #female power #dream girl #female excellence #high value mindset #life tips #adulting #life advice #femmefatalevibe #communication skills #emotional wellness

[classycookiexo]

#emotional maturity #honestly

[where-dreams-dwell]

Dexter is a cautionary tale of the need to accept discomfort as a part of life, with Emma as his contrast and aspirational example.

Throughout the show Emma embodies determination and self assurance. The only reason she thinks she can change the world is.. because why couldn’t she? In contrast Dexter has no idea what he wants and kind of resents having to even think about it, hence his jumping between careers and looking for purpose for the whole show.

While Em knows what she wants emotionally (the satisfaction or having made a difference, the achievement of doing what she always wanted) but isn’t sure on the specifics of what that will look like (I’ll write plays, no write poetry, no I’ll teach, okay no I’ll write a book), Dexter knows the specifics (I’ll be rich and famous) but doesn’t know what he wants emotionally (‘what will that look like?’ ‘I don’t know’).

While Dex is always running from uncomfortable feelings Em faces then head on and comes out the other side, able to learn from them.

As Dex is travelling to put off making long term decisions, Em has taken the first opportunity to do what she wants: writing, be it books, poems or in this instance plays.

On holiday Dex can’t allow himself to admit that he fancy’s Em and to leave it at that, he has to run from the honesty and vulnerability of that moment by adding on ‘but I pretty much fancy everyone’. In doing this you could argue that he looses his chance with her for several years, where as Emma’s confidence could have resulted in them getting together much sooner.

Dex misses his mothers last birthday because he doesn’t want to face reality. Instead of reacting to the fear and anger and pain of her diagnosis by spending every moment he can with her, or sitting down to have heart to heart talks with her, or helping her out in any meaningful way Dex runs away and numbs himself with substances, and is passed out for the little time he is in her presence.

When he’s nervous people won’t (or already don’t) like him on TV he again turns to substances to numb his feelings, and (instead of taking Em’s advice to ignore them) looks for reassurance from hangers on who don’t actually know him that well. He can’t sit in that worry/fear/discomfort so he finds a way to stop feeling.

When Dex’s marriage falls apart we see him running away to Paris to visit Em. And sure there are ulterior motives here (his hope and assuming that this could be the start of their romantic relationship) but the writer shows him literally traveling away from the country where his failed marriage, child and previous life were as he is show to be angrily talking about his divorce. As an image it appears like he’s running away from the reality of the divorce or running to Em for a distraction. It definitely supports Ems assumptions that he’s not serious about a relationship with her; she’s seen this behaviour in Dex before.

It’s even funny how in small ways we don’t see him handle upsetting things until the very end. Talking about his first marriage and the production the day became? Dex admits he didn’t want to rock the boat so he didn’t fight anything/reject anything/ have much say at all in his wedding. Sylvie drops off Jasmine? Dex is still at the cafe so Em is the one managing slightly awkward small talk. Jasmine practising her violin? We get a brief moment with Dex too but mainly it’s Em sitting through the recitals. In that last episode when they’re struggling with fertility, Em is the one who sits down and talks out her anger and fear and worry, where as Dex (who probably knew what the root of it all was) was happy to leave her to process it how she need to and support her while she did. If she hadn’t brought it up he wouldn’t have said anything.

That’s not becisarily a bad thing (Dex could have known that Em needed to process it herself before talking to him) but it is interesting that the writers engineer Dex to avoid all these moments of emotional discomfort. It reinforces his characterisation of being avoidant when confronted with conflict.

In contrast we kind of constantly see Em having to face hard moments and working through them.

Don’t know what to do with your life? Move to London to try and aim to work in your dream field. London life and restaurant job not going the way you planned? Commit to Dex’s suggestion of teacher training. Time to confess a secret? Here’s a hugely personal one about my past feelings for you. Past crush admits he kind-if fancy’s you? Stick to being honest about your past feelings and don’t take the opening to downplay them. You feel shit about your life and your secret affair? Well let’s turn that into motivation to finally write that book.

Not happy with your long term partner? End the relationship.

Emma’s whole confrontation with Ian is a masterclass in facing difficult conversations and emotions, being vulnerable and open and honest about your feelings, and finding empathy for another outside your point of view. And look what she gains from facing that hard in comfortable conversation? Closure, and a kind of friendship, one that lasts even after she dies.

When Dex confessed that he hoped they would start a romantic relationship in Paris, Em sits him down and starts that hard conversation about how she doesn’t think that is 1) what he even wants and 2) would work between them. She doesn’t brush off of hide from the conversation. And then when she has more information and time to think she commits to Dex.

Even after they sleep together there’s a scene of Em laying the ground rules, making it clear to Dex what she will and won’t stand in this relationship. That’s an awkward conversation to have but Em doesn’t hesitate and makes sure he knows from the get go what she expects and deserves. The writers are constantly showing us ‘Em doesn’t run from uncomfortable feelings’.

And then the tragic twist of fate: Emma is gone and Dexter finally has to learn to live with emotional discomfort. He can’t keep running because there is no escaping this, not like he did with his mum. Like he says to Imaginary-Emma ‘why would time change anything’. He is going to feel like this forever, there is no escaping it. Finally he is learning to face it, manage it, and work through it.

Of course Emma is far more than a literally device and is her own layered and well established character. But in this regard for Dex it’s almost as if she’s the final lesson for him to work through to grow up enough so he can eventually choose to return to the place they met.

And it could even come across as a reward for him; in learning to live with those difficult emotions, his reward is being able to remember Emma fondly, and to return to the place they met to seek out those memories. The memories are bittersweet, but now he remembers Emma as she was and not how she never got to be.

Like his dad said, he is eventually able to ‘live [his] life as if she were still here’ but in order to do that he first had to accept that she was gone.

#spoilers #one day #one day netflix #dexter mayhew #emma morley #grief #emotional maturity #grief is love persevering #emotionally avoidant #I feel like he runs from pain #and doesn’t know how to handle it manage it #so he ignores it and runs from it #until the universe says ‘fuck you’ and makes it unavoidable #media analysis

[safety-net-did]

The thing I just reblogged, and something I've seen a lot, says that folk who suffered parentification as childred are very emotionally mature.

I disagree.

Parentification made me very adept at noticing and reacting to other people's emotions.

Which is an important aspect of emotional maturity, but FAR from the whole picture.

Parentification also taught me to ignore and suppress my own emotions and responses to them.

Parentification prevented me from learning how to feel my emotions, how to name them, how to respond effectively to them.

Parentification taught me to be reactive to others emotions, to take them on as my own burden. It taught me to believe my interpretation of events over what others say about their feelings.

Parentification prevented me from becoming emotionally mature.

At my core parentification left me still a young child, unable to face anger and other volitle emotions with anything other than placation(in others) and self-loathing(in myself).

KEY parts of emotional maturity are knowing yourself and knowing when you need to respond to others.

Parentification prevents that learning.

In order to heal from parentification one has to develop emotional maturity. Has to unlearn enmeshment, has to self-parent appropriate responses to emotions, both others' and ones own.

Parentification stunted my development.

I became emotionally aware and mature in spite of it, not because of it.

#parentification #emotional maturity #childhood abuse #emotional abuse #emotional neglect #parental abuse

[professorbussywinkle]

To the chronic people pleasers, and over apologizers, it can be important to keep in mind that the act of being overly apologetic, in terms of social structures, places you in a subordinated position within the power dynamic of a given social situation with someone, and people can and will exploit the fact that you believe you're in the wrong when you aren't, and therefore feel justified punishing or "correcting" your behavior in order to feel powerful and dominant over you within that social dynamic, don't give them that power, they will always misuse it

And also...other people having a negative reaction to your innocuous behavior has nothing to do with you and their feelings aren't your responsibility to manage, and if someone becomes frustrated with you because you did or said a thing, it almost always has nothing to do with what you did or said, and they were likely already frustrated in general bout some other shit before you said or did the thing that you believed was the cause of their frustration

You are fine

It wasn't anything you did

You did nothing wrong

Therefore you don't deserve to be punished in any way

Your needs matter more than other peoples at the end of the day

You can't pour from an empty cup

#people pleaser #therapy #social dynamics #power structures #socialization #neurodivergence #neurodivergent #trauma #emotional maturity

[mythoughttherapy]

“The best kind of love is an emotionally mature love. A love grounded in transparent communication. The kind of love that challenges your fears in a healthy way, gently pushing you towards growth. The kind of love that believes in emotional intimacy– in mutual respect. The kind of love that cares for you in a sentimental way rather than a materialistic way. A love defined by the gift of presence not presents. The best kind of love is a love that loves your everything– a love that says, “You were meant for me.””

—Jade Torres

#jade torres #author #writer #quotes #booklr #bookstagram #poet #poetry #poem #poetic prose #love #emotional maturity #healing

[audhdnight]

On the topic of gentle parenting (I’ve said all this before but not here and it bears repeating anyway) the counter argument of “well I would gentle parent if it worked but try that with my kid and you’ll see they don’t care” is so asinine

Like you wouldn’t sit a six year old down with their first primer and then expect them to be able to read fluently from that day forward. You wouldn’t only take your child to ONE swim lesson and then be done for the rest of the summer. You wouldn’t expect your dog to follow the “sit” or “shake” commands after one day of training. This is just not how learning works.

So yes, after one single instance where you tried gentle parenting techniques, your child is not going to respond automatically. That’s why we teach. That’s why we keep doing it, over and over, until they learn.

I used to nanny for a family of twelve. My main responsibilities were taking care of the four youngest - three little boys and an eleven year old girl. Every single one of them was rowdy and loud and over-energetic all the time - the exact kinds of kids I usually see described as “demon spawn”. The boys were pretty easy to calm down, but the girl had a mean streak and she liked to cause problems.

It didn’t take me long to realize why, though. Her brothers were the babies of the family, and they were used to getting all the love and toys and granted desires they could want. By contrast, she was usually overlooked. All of the times she came and wrecked a board game I was playing with the boys, or the times she unplugged the tv so we couldn’t watch the movie she didn’t like, or the times she ran screaming in circles around the room because her baby brother was crying and my focus was on him - it all made sense.

And so the next time she came and tried to ruin our game, I told her calmly that if she wanted my attention that was okay and I was happy to give it to her, but she wasn’t allowed to be mean to her brothers to get it. If she wanted to play a game with me one on one, all she had to do was pick one out and ask.

This girl, who was normally angry and weepy and refused to listen to any kind of reason, looked like her entire world had just flipped inside out. She dropped the board game piece she’d taken, turned around, and walked out of the room. Fifteen minutes later she was back with a bag of Uno cards, hanging her head and asking me quietly if I would please play with her.

That was one of our best moments. Yes, she was still prone to tantrums and lashing out. No, things weren’t always perfect after that. But seriously, most of the time “bad” kids are genuinely just starved for something - attention, instruction, validation, or even just some damn peace and quiet (which none of these kids ever got having ten siblings). You’d be amazed how far a loving word and a firm boundary can go for any kid. Especially when they rarely get those things at home.

#kid stuff #gentle parenting #temper tantrums #parenting #emotional maturity #emotional regulation

[tatersgonnatate]

A worthwhile reminder 💚

#toxic family #family #holiday #toxic parents #toxic love #toxic behavior #gaslighting #emotional growth #emotional health #emotional maturity #emotional resilience #emotional manipulation

[femme-dor]

You can listen to some Hot Girl on the internet spouting bare bones advice about self-love & not compromising your boundaries for others all day long, but if you aren’t mature enough to not only actively & consistently put it into practice, but to realize you don’t have to be a self-absorbed mean-girl to do it, you’ll always be pretending to be this “Dark Femme” when really you’re just an emotionally exploited, insecure & insufferable little girl.

#wizardliz #I’ve seen so many young women go on about her #and learn absolutely nothing #they emulate her but don’t digest what she’s she’s saying #because they like that SHES PRETTY & saying the message #than the actual message itself #one girl at my job has her as an idol #yet recently got back together with her toxic ex-dork #after she got slightly prettier & oddly mean #oof #do better #maturity #emotional maturity #mental maturity #life advice #boundaries #self love

[mymidwestheart]

#emotional maturity

[femmefatalevibe]

can you give a tips about how to act more mature??

Understand and validate your own needs/boundaries

Clearly communicate your needs/boundaries

Uphold your boundaries consistently without (non-emergency) exceptions

Display radical empathy and respect for the needs/boundaries of others

Practice emotional differentiation: Understand where someone else's needs, wants, and expectations end and your desires/personhood begin

Depersonalize other people's actions

Get curious instead of combative when in a disagreement or a conflict

Stand up for yourself using assertive communication, empathy, and tact

Get comfortable admitting what you don't know

Converse to understand others, not "win" a debate or gain someone's approval

Internalize that invalidating yourself makes you repeal others

Detach your emotions from a situation then consider how you can re-regulate your emotions by crafting a resolution

Approach conflict head-on by stating facts to open up a dialogue rather than accuse or get aggressive with the other party

Think before you speak. Never respond while angry or stressed. Taking your time is better than saying or doing something you'll regret

Understand that you are not your thoughts and feelings, but what you do in response to these emotions and desires

Build your habits/daily routines around your long-term goals, but take everything one step at a time

Embrace your need for rest, pleasure, and taking life slow at certain times.

Savor each moment. Understand life comes in stages of productivity, leisure, highs, and lows

Take care of your health and set yourself up to win in the long term with preventative measures, even if they go against your desires for instant gratification

#emotional maturity #growing up #glow up #higher self #glow up tips #dream life #emotional intelligence #femmefatalevibe #q/a

[faegoddessog]

Woman in Red CH 11/?

Chapter 11: Mogren Beach

Series Summary: She's a very successful woman who can't seem to find a partner that can keep up with her. He is just wanting to find someone who likes him for HIM, not his fame. Neither of them are prepared for what hits them when she walks into that coffee shop.

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, Unprotected PiV (play safe ya'll!), Angst, fellatio,

A/N: In this story, I make no mention of birth control or condoms or STI's. Please, darlings, please love yourself enough to protect yourself appropriately when you have sex. <3

Message me or leave in a comment if you'd like to be added or removed from my tagged list!

@purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

Here is the Woman in Red Masterlist

Here is the link to all my posted work: My Dirty Little, and not so little Stories.

Chapter 11: Mogren Beach

Their stopover in Iceland was fun. A driver took the five of them in a limo, possibly the only one on the island,  to see the Bridge Between Continents. It was an actual foot bridge that spanned a fissure between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. After they went to the Blue Lagoon for about four hours, Aya treated them all to facials and in-water massages and bought them all lunch. They left all noodly and relaxed. When they climbed into the limo,  Stacey plopped down next to Austin and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. 

“A girls gotta nap after that, especially if she’s gotta fly the plane.” She closed her eyes and snuggled into his chest.  Austin, having little choice in the matter, just shrugged and pulled her close.  Charlie sat down on his other side and he offered his arm to her as well. She smiled at him and snuggled in too, though because of her height, she leaned back more on his shoulder. His eyes felt heavy too as the car started.  Aya and Shaya talked in quiet tones across from them. 

When they get to the plane, Stacey’s eyes pop open. She stretches, kisses a groggy Austin hard on the mouth, then literally bounds from the car to start preflight checks. 

Aya giggles and gets out as Austin rubs his eyes, Charlie plants a kiss on his cheek and gets out too. 

Shaya shakes their head. “That girl is like a damn fairy, I’ll tell you what. But maybe that’s what makes her such a good pilot,” they smile at Austin. “She likes you, that’s not always the case. She’s picky. I like you too, you are a good man. But I need to tell you, I love Aya like a sister, so don’t you fuck her up.” 

“It is my deepest intent not to do so,” he says seriously. “I am” he hesitates,  “well let’s say I’m coming to care for her too.” 

“Mmm, hmmm, just be mindful, she’s more fragile than she wants to let on.” Shaya pats his knee kindly then follows their cohort to the plane. 

“What was Shaya telling you?” Aya asks, taking his hand as he finally emerges from the vehicle. “Just how much they love you,” he smiles, “everyone seems to. Love you that is.” His eyes go soft as he looks at her. 

She looks at him briefly, smiling, before quickly looking down.  It only takes an instant for her inner self to recognize what those words and that gaze mean. She’s seen makeshift attempts before, but only once was it true. Only once before did it pierce her heart, and it ended up tearing her soul.   And she was not about to repeat that shit, nope, nope, nope.  She shoves those thoughts aside and looks back at him with a smile. 

Aya’s seemingly bashful glance down seems uncharacteristic of her. She is shaking her head and he could see the pink rising in her face. Weird, her self confidence is usually all encompassing, why did the mention of people loving her make her curl inward.  He is about to lift her chin when she looks at him with a huge fake smile. “Let’s go”, is all she says. 

****************

The rest of the flight to Montenegro was uneventful. Unless you count that Stacey invited Austin into the cockpit. To be fair,  he was genuinely interested, having learned to fly old B-17’s for his stint on Masters of the Air. He had a basic understanding of flight and asked relevant questions. It fucking turned her on. 

“This is what autopilot was literally invented for, thank you Lawrence Sperry,”  she flipped the switch and practically leapt onto him, straddling his lap as he sat in the jumpseat behind hers. 

“Whoa, Stacey, we should check with Aya first, sweetheart, ” Austin said, turned on himself, but still feeling weird about all this freedom with sex. 

“I told you she’d eat you alive,” said Aya from behind them.  Her arms came around his neck. “You are not beholden to me Austin, fuck her if you’d like.” She leaned in to kiss his ear. ‘Good,’ she thinks, ‘let Stacey distract him.’ He grabbed her hand, holding it to his chest. 

“Yes, fuck me if you’d like,” Stacey’s smile was sweet but her eyes are pure wolf. She was grinding on his hard cock as her pencil skirt rode high on her hips. 

He did. 

She didn’t even take her underwear off, just pulled them to the side after pulling him out of his joggers.  She was fast and hard and furious, but quieter this time, not wanting to disturb Shaya in the bunks just behind the cockpit.  Aya stayed and held his hand the whole time, kissing his neck, whispering how hot it was telling him to watch as her tight little slit swallowed him whole.  He thrust up into her again and again. After she came, she got off him, his still hard cock bouncing.

“You got him  from here, yeah Aya?” She said kissing her then settling back down to fly the plane. 

“Indeed,” she pulled him off the seat as he tried to tuck himself back into his pants. He wasn’t sure he liked fucking Stacey, she kinda kept using him and leaving him hanging. Although right now it didn't matter, because Aya was coaxing him to the bedroom. Aya was kissing him. Aya was rubbing her pussy back and forth on his hand to show her how wet watching them had made her. Aya was laying back offering herself to his pleasure. Aya was gripping him, shaking with the force of her orgasm. Legs, arms and cunt wrapped around him as he spilled into her yet again. Aya was holding him to her breast and stroking his hair. Aya, all for Aya. 

When they emerged,  Charlie fed them. He read his script, making notes in the margins. Aya did some work on her laptop. Soon they were landing, parking and going through customs, all of them. 

They piled into a big SUV, for about a half hour through the dark countryside, dotted with billboards that floated into the view of the headlights and winked out again. They went through a tunnel and shortly after, they entered what looked like a resort town and stopped at a fancy apartment building.  After getting keycards from the front desk, they rode the elevator up. 

“Ding” they stopped at the topmost floor. 

“This is us” says Shaya, pressing her cheek to Aya, making kissing noises, then does the same to Austin. 

Stacey pulled him down to her for a deep french kiss before turning on her heel and dragging her bag out into the hall. Charlie pressed her full lips to his ,”night night” she said sweetly and left. 

Why they were doing this here and not in the hallway, Austin didn’t know or question. He had gotten quickly past wondering why this crew did all the things they did. Austin made to pick up his bag and follow them. 

“Nope,” said Aya, pressing her keycard to the pad in the elevator. The doors closed and Austin looks at the panel of buttons then at her, confused. They were at the top, weren’t they?

She just pointed up as the elevator rose further and then opened onto a dark covered patio. She steps out, pressing her keycard to another pad on the wall. 

“Sasha, turn on the lights and open the door please,” she says loudly.

The lights come on inside a wall of windows that he hadn’t even registered, the door to his left clicks open. The patio is covered in plants and potted trees, a sunning deck is off to the right. He can just make out patio furniture in the dark. The darkness of the ocean is all he can see beyond. 

She beckons him in. The foyer has an inlaid mosaic on the floor, a coat closet to the left, a bedroom and bathroom directly across from the main door. A wide hallway leads to the right. It is lined with full  bookshelves on its left and the glass windows looking out on the patio to the right. It opens into a beautiful modern kitchen with white cabinets and sleek lines. There is  a huge black marble two level island with a sink in the middle with bar height seating across the back. 

The room has a vaulted ceiling and extends into a dining space where a black topped table with white chairs sits. Past that is the living space with a huge curved white couch, a thick black rug covers most of the white stone floor and a big abstract black and white painting hangs on the wall.  The floor to ceiling windows extend the whole wall to the right, broken only by a double sided gas fireplace that serviced the patio as well. The far wall across the end of the room was also nothing but windows and standing in the corner was a pearl white grand piano. 

“Wow, this is lovely Aya.  What made you decide to buy a place here?" he asks as he sets down his bag. 

“Do you remember when you were in my work apartment that first night and I told you that I own a few buildings you couldn’t see from there?”

He just nods.

“Well, you can see one of them now,” she opens her arms. 

“The whole building?” he is a little flabbergasted. He knew upscale and this building was it. 

“Yup, the crew is in a three bedroom unit downstairs that I rent out as a VRBO, along with several others, but this is my Mediterranean Sanctuary, only I stay here.” 

“Oh, well I’ll go see about getting a room then,” he teases, picking up his bag, “I suppose Charlie might be willing to share.” 

“Ok, ok, me and my guests,” she rolls her eyes trying to cover the unnervingly possessive feeling that just sprouted from his words. 

Austin chuckles as Aya goes to the fridge.  It’s filled with her favorite fresh local things. She needed to give her housekeeper an extra bonus. She pours sparkling water from a big glass bottle into a stemless wine glass, offering one to Austin as well. They wander into the living space. 

“Do you play?” he indicates the piano. 

“I did as a kid, but my teacher kinda messed it up for me.” Aya says sitting on the wide bench and flipping the fallboard open. 

“Oh no! What happened.” Austin sits next to her. 

“Oh she just yelled a lot when I didn’t practice, which made stubborn little me want to practice less.” She plays a chord, the piano perfectly in tune. “ She told me I could be a concert pianist, that I was progressing so fast. But even if it could have been a passion for me, her attitude made me quit.” She plays a volley of notes that stream into Vivaldi’s Summer. She abruptly stops, looking at Austin and shrugging. 

“That is horrible.” he says, laying his fingers on the keys, “I mean, she was, not your playing." He wraps his arms around her waist, planting a loving kiss on her forehead, "you just keep amazing me, at every turn.” 

“C’mon, I’ll show you the rest,” she pulls away from him, her heart pressing against her chest. She doesn't want to feel this way, she tells herself.

There are double doors on the wall behind the dining table. It opens up into a huge bedroom dominated by a massive wooden four poster bed.  Each corner has an ornately carved pillar. In contrast to the stark black and white of the other rooms, this room is decorated in complex reds and deep browns and light creams. There is a Moroccan flair to the decor with rich, lavish fabrics, carved wooden pieces and elaborate wall sconces. There is a rug so thick you could sink your toes completely into it, if you tried. There are two doors to the left, each ornamented above with subtle moorish arches. One to the big bathroom, the other to the walk-in closet. To the right was, shockingly,  more windows with thick curtains tied to each side and billowing out in graceful curves.  Situated in front of the glass is a massive clawfoot tub, big enough for two people, possibly three if one was Stacey-sized. 

“This was supposed to be a three bedroom penthouse, but I insisted that they make this big master suite  instead. I don’t need that many bedrooms," Aya explains as she shows him the bathroom. 

“I feel like I’m on an old hollywood movie set, Casablanca or something,” he says with a smile, pulling her in close. 

She supposes she could toss out that famous line, but just now she can't remember what it is. Austin is simply too close, smells too good, is too distracting.  She stays in his embrace this time. Her heart pounding in her chest, swelling despite her wishes. The heart wants what the heart wants. 

They decided they were tired enough to at least try to sleep, considering the local time was nearly 1:30 AM. She again offered him the spare bedroom, in case he wanted some space. Usually, she preferred it that way, needing her own space,  but she was finding his company was easy. Filled with calm quiet spaces that, oddly, she didn’t feel the need to fill. 

“Why would I pass up the opportunity to be fucked in my sleep?” he teases her. “No really, please fuck me in my sleep anytime you want,” he says seriously. 

“Oh I don’t think I want to wait until you are asleep,” she puts her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. A kiss that ended up with Austin seeing just how luxurious the carpet really was and just how deep he could get his toes into the pile. 

*******************

The next day, the rising sun pierces into the room and right into their faces between the forgotten curtains. They hunker down into the sheets, both mentally cursing. 

When they do get up, the sun has crept across the room. They eat a quick breakfast and set out to see Budva and walk off some of the jet lag. They walk the old town and have lunch there.  They don’t see the three others at all. 

“They like to do their own thing.” she comments when he asks, “Sometimes Charlie likes to hang out by the marina. She has a thing for boats.  Shaya is shopping or hiking, I'd bet my life on it. Stacey is likely sleeping in so she can haunt the bars later, she likes to troll for men.” Aya says, she thinks of all the times she has joined in on those one night stands. They don’t seem as appealing as they used to.  

The walk to Mogren Beach is less than 15 minutes. There are a moderate amount of people out today. They sunbathe for a while, then he drags her out to the deeper water to play and swim in the crystal clear waters. 

Aya tries to keep herself in check in this public place.  The water dripping and sparkling off his bare chest,  and his muscles rippling, makes it tough. But more than anything, seeing him laugh makes her yearn for him. She finds it unnerving and delicious all at the same time. 

At one point, she leaps on him, trying to dunk him. Caught unawares he goes under. He turns, grabs her and erupts from the water, tossing her. Her arms flail and splash as she too, goes under. She comes up sputtering and laughing. He is right there, pulling her up into his arms. Salty seawater flavors his tongue as it sweeps against her bottom lip. Her legs wrap around his waist in the water, pressing herself needily against him. They both forget entirely where they are. They both are ready to pull aside their respective suit bottoms and fuck right there, despite the universal knowledge that water is a terrible lubricant. 

“Aya,” he breathes his blue eyes shimmering like the surface of the water, “I- I -” 

“Ohmigawd! are you like, Austin Butler?” A young woman, barley not a teenager, is on a float raft and paddling towards them. 

Austin lets out a breath, turning toward the young fan with his practiced smile. Thankful for the fact that the water was deep enough to hide his hard-on. 

He is practically the archetype of humility and politeness as she gushes about his performances and flirts with him openly. He asks her name and where she is from; kind to his core. He smiles and waves his little finger-tip wave towards a couple other girls who titter and refuse to approach. Their phones are out and pointed towards the three of them. The girl asks if he would pose for the cameras. He goes to put his arm around Aya, who is patiently waiting beside him.  As the girl turns, she ‘accidentally’ falls off into the water in front of him triggering the oldest of male instincts. He puts out his arms to catch her. The girl thrashes in the water, screaming that she can’t swim, then is clinging to him with her arms around his neck.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s ok, you can touch here.”  He grabs her wrist and peels her arms away from him, setting her on her feet. 

Aya, who has been utterly ignored in this interaction, scoffs and tries not to roll her eyes as the girl nearly cries about how he saved her life. 

“No, no it was nothing, you would've been fine, it was nice to meet you,” he dismisses her, with a nod of his head and turns back to Aya. The girl grabs her raft and starts back to her friends. Half way there she is saying loudly, “Did you see that, holy fuck I could totally feel it, it was so big.  Oh my god!” As though Austin and Aya can’t hear. 

“You wanna go?” Aya asks, seeing Austin’s cheeks turn red. 

Austin takes a big breath and nods, “Yeah, I’m sorry, we’d better. That was….” he shakes his head in disbelief.

They make their way back to the beach. Austin’s mouth is a grim line as he watches the shoreline for cameras and protectively holds Aya’s hand. He is mentally kicking himself that he let his guard down. He’d gotten so comfortable, so focused on Aya, that he had forgotten himself, quite literally. How could he be so stupid.

He stomps up to their pile of things, pulling a towel out quickly. He tosses it around her shoulders before yanking one around himself. He knows that if he’s outed here, it’ll be a matter of minutes before lenses will be focused on them. “Whoa there sailor,” says Aya holding up a hand, “we aren’t in any hurry.”  She lets the unneeded towel fall off her shoulders. It was like his fun self had been doused with cold water.  

“I just want to protect you,” he says, fumbling in his haste to pull her towel back up.

“Austin,” she puts her hand on his cheek, “I’ve made it this far in life, I’m not worried about some teenage shenanigans.” 

“It’s not that,” he looks hard into her eyes, trying to silently make up for his lack.

“What is it then,” her voice is curious. 

“It’s you,” he looks at the blue sky, trying to figure out  what he even means,  “I just…” 

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” Aya’s eyes narrow at him. 

“What!?” his eyes flick back to hers, brows stitched together, “Why would you even think…”. He blows out an exasperated breath. He’s more upset at the idea, than at her for thinking it. “Look, can we just get back to the apartment and talk about it in private,” he snaps. 

“Sure,” she says, her lips pursed. Suddenly, she is very upset.  Maybe it’s his snapping at her after being so sweet to that stupid girl. Or maybe it's just his assuming she needed his protection. Silently and quickly, they gather their things and leave. He tries to take her hand, but she steps out ahead of him, out of reach. Her mind starts hamster-wheeling stupid things, dredging up those old fucking tapes again: she isn’t pretty enough, young enough, thin enough. God dammit, she thought those were dead, buried, burned! She is more mad at herself for those thoughts than anything else. Seeing a crack form in the chained iron box, buried in layers of denial and old scars, locked in the dark cell in the depths of her mental dungeon, her fear tries to wiggle its way to the surface. ‘What else might he dredge from the catacombs?’ it says. She forcibly shoves it away, but not before tears begin to sting her eyes.

Austin swears softly under his breath. He follows her retreating form. He isn’t sure what just happened or why he was snapping at her. This kind of incident, being approached by strangers, was his current life. In truth, it was rarely that bad, but maybe she couldn’t handle his fame? He rejects the thought immediately. Ridiculous, she was far too outgoing and definitely too confident for that.  Was she jealous of that girl, that child?  How could she be? Literally yesterday she had encouraged him, then watched as he fucked someone else. She told him it turned her on.  She had said he wasn’t beholden to her. Shaya had said she was more fragile than she wanted to let on. Maybe he should let that come to the surface before he told her just how much she had affected him, just how much he wanted to be ‘beholden’ to her. 

The walk back was silent, at first her steps were rapid and angry as they walked the trail between the rock cliff and the sea. It wasn’t as if she was trying to get away from him. In reality,  she was actually trying to outpace her own thoughts.  By the time they got to the city park, three blocks from the building, she had slowed down as though she had outwalked her initial reactions. She wipes the tears she hadn’t acknowledged yet with the back of her hand, then holds it out behind her, toward Austin, hoping he’ll take it. 

Her fast pace was surprising to him, but not hard to keep up with. He stayed a pace or two behind her, letting her lead, letting her fume. He wasn’t sure where he was going at any rate. After the first five minutes he decided there had to be more to her reaction than he realized, that he would just wait  and let her lead this. He knew that he was actually mad at himself for putting them in a position like that, for forgetting where they were and what could happen. 

‘It’s not like we were in real danger,’ he  thinks to himself. ‘There was little I could do differently, besides ignore that girl.’ He starts to talk himself off the ledge of his anger.

He really tried to not let his fame stop him from doing things, albeit with differing levels of success. But he had been dealing with this in some capacity all his life, she had not. He could’ve at least warned her or explained instead of being tight and upset.  Instead he was pretending that he was just a normal nobody the whole time he was with her. It was all he wanted when he was with her, to just be a guy.   Maybe, he thought as they walked in silence, just maybe that girls’ interruption was a sign that he should slow down. Fuck, what he had nearly confessed to Aya in that moment! Her pace slowed so gradually that he didn't notice it until her hand reached for him.  He closes the gap instantly, threading his fingers gently with hers, grateful for the peace offering. His fingers touch the wetness on the back of her hand. He is jolted with the realization that she had been crying.

When his hand laces into hers, a breath she didn't know she was holding escapes her lungs and her shoulders release. She keeps walking, leading him in through the palm trees, rubber plants and weeping figs to a spot she knows. She slows to a stop in the shade of a tall nettle tree, surrounded by hedges. 

“I’m sorry Austin,” she says, to his surprise. “I know you are not embarrassed to be seen with me.” 

“Oh my god no,” his hand nearly leaps to caress her cheek, “whatever would I have to be embarrassed about, Aya? You are so beautiful, smart, adventurous, confident and totally amazing.” 

“Yeah well, clearly not all the time,” she leans into his hand, “I just let some old bullshit get the better of me, that’s all. Can you forgive me?” He tilts her face up and she finally looks at him, her eyes slightly red with tears. 

“There is nothing to forgive, Aya,  we all have old bullshit that gets the better of us sometimes.” His plush lips press softly and briefly onto hers. “And I’m sorry too.” 

Her eyebrows crease in a frown. “For what?” He can’t possibly mean for those girls, he didn’t make them do that?

“For snapping at you, for letting my guard down,” he answers looking up, “for not paying attention to what was going on around us.” 

“Thank you for the apology Austin” she says simply. 

 “I should’ve… I don’t know…” He looks back down to her, “been better prepared or something. They aren’t usually that…invasive.” He shakes his head, still beating himself up.  “And there will be photos, Aya.” 

“What on earth could you have done, you can’t control other people,” she says matter of factly. “Fuck the photos. I’ve had photos taken of me before.  What are we going to do, hide forever? Never go out for dinner or get groceries or go to the movies or enjoy an outing? Live like hermits?”

Groceries, dinner, movies, we, forever:  these words stick sharp in his mind. These words are couple words, partner words. His heart leaps as his mind begins flashing spontaneous scenes involving those words, a potential future that sparks so much joy in him. He gives his head a little shake to bring him back to the here and now.  

“You are right, I know better, they can’t dictate our lives,” he sighs, 'hopefully our life, someday’ he thinks.

She hears the slight longing in the word ‘our’. Shit, what did she start? But she suppresses on. 

“I am well aware of your status and that people will recognize you. I’m sure there are measures to be taken. Let me add to your list of my supposed qualities: I’m also stubborn. I refuse to let other people’s behavior dictate to me where I go and what I do. How do you think I got where I am?” 

“Yes, of course. It's just, we were having such a good track record and I got lulled into a false sense of security. I’m so sorry,  I just feel I should have-” she touches his lips with her finger. 

“Should’ve, would’ve could’ve,” she says softly, ignoring the pet name, “it’s done now and there is nothing to be sorry about.”

“Well I was snappy at you,” he says against her finger, pleading into her eyes.

“And I forgive you.” her hand slides to his jaw, “So stop beating yourself up over nothing. Okay?”

“Okay,” his eyes soften into hers. In the space of one breath, he sees that the very thing that might have driven a wedge between them, instead has him falling deeper. 

The look in his eyes says it all. She knows exactly what is happening and try as she might, she feels it too. She should run, says her protective half, run to her penthouse and lock it behind her. Hide, run, evade, anything to stop this descent.  But she is rooted to the spot like the trusty trees around her, so she falls, kicking, clawing but oh so quietly. 

The walk back was meandering, quiet and hand in hand.  They made a stop at a restaurant on the way, getting take-out as neither of them felt like cooking and both were famished. 

They ate an early dinner on the terrace, after taking separate but quick showers. Neither of them said much more other than to comment on the food or the view. 

Austin stood and picked up the plates. He was standing at the sink when Aya came in a few minutes later, wondering where he had gone. He had a sink full of bubbles and was washing dishes by hand despite the fact that the dishwasher was standing at the ready. She didn’t question it, only hoped that this dish-washer might also be ready and willing. 

She comes up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and lays her cheek on his back.  

“Are you tired?” she asks. It’s early evening but jet lag and the events of the day might dictate an early night.  

“Not really,” he says softly, rinsing a dish in the hot stream of water.

“Me neither,” she just wants to feel close to him after their pseudo argument. Though to be honest, just touching him makes her flame.

Cleaning up was one of those things that sometimes he just found himself doing. Especially when he felt emotional or his brain felt disorderly. It was at least something he could control. He is deep in his own zen and bubbles, when he feels her hands skim his waist. It’s the first touch she’s extended, other than hand holding, since their fight. If they could call it a fight, it was more one on one combat between themselves and their own demons that happened to catch the other in the crossfire. 

The feel of her hands ignites him.  Normally, he doesn’t like how manipulative ‘make up’ sex feels. He’s had girlfriends that used it against him. But this didn’t feel like that, they had actually talked and each had taken responsibility. 

“Mmm, why do you have something in mind?” he says, scrubbing the last dish and leaning slightly into her. He just wants the perceived distance between them to be nil again.

“Maybe after you are done here, if you are willing…” she lets the sentence hang in the air, her fingertips lightly dancing on his hips bones. 

“Willing to….” he knows, but he wants to hear her say it. 

"I’d like to be with you, feel your skin next to mine,”  she doesn’t want to push and won’t if he isn’t up for it yet. She realizes with a sense of shock that she would be down for just cuddling. She feels depleted from the events of the day and just wants to get her brain back to a sense of normalcy, something simple and familiar. 

He had the feeling, she was placing the offer down in front of him gingerly. She wasn’t trying to seduce him into it, rather she was simply stating that she was willing if he was. It's hot, hotter than if she was trying to smooth things over with sex or goad him into intimacy. 

“You would, huh?” his voice slips deep as he rinses the final dish and sets it in the rack to dry. “I’d like that, maybe out there,” he nods to the terrace.  He turns in her arms after drying his hands and pulls her in close. He tilts her chin up with a gentle forefinger, smelling like bubbles, “I want your skin on mine too,” he says. 

Then his mouth is on hers, gently pressing a long, soft kiss. It melts her, nearly buckling her knees. She had tried, really tried, not to care if he said no.  This was her usual M.O.  after all.  But when his hands are bunching up the hem of her dress and peeling it off her, she realizes just how worried she was that he may not want her after their conflict.

“I know how much you like being naked outside.” His smile wipes away any doubt. 

The sun was just starting to go down. Every inch of Aya’s skin was bathed in golden light. The sideways slant of the sun casting shadows into the valleys of Austin’s muscular and very naked torso. His shirt was left canoodling with her dress inside.  The warm evening breeze pulled her hair away from her face as she let him lead her out to the terrace. He stops, turns and pulls her in for a deeper kiss.  His fingers tangle in her hair as his tongue petitions for entrance, which Aya gladly gives, sinking herself into his strong arms. They kiss for a long time, slowly getting bolder with one another until the puffing breath from their nostrils eddy against one another’s cheeks. Little moans pass between their vibrating chests. 

“You know what I would like, if you are ok with it?” he asks after finally pulling away from her, voice a little tentative and his teeth playing with his bottom lip, “I want your mouth on me, please.“ He glances at the tent of his cock in his comfy linen drawstring pants. He had foregone underwear after his shower.  “And uh… I don’t need to be all aggressive this time, I just want you to do what you do.” He still has a hint of guilt, feeling like he got out of control that first time. 

“Austin, look at you asking for a blowjob.” she smiles, teasing only a little. “Yes, oh yes please.  And for the record, again, I like it when you take control.” She locks onto his eyes as she lowers herself down to sit on the big round outdoor couch, “I want you to enjoy it knowing that I like it too. Honest, it’s hotter for me when I know I’m driving you a little crazy.” 

“Really?,” his voice is husky. The sight of her in front of him is reminiscent of a devotee. It is more arousing than he wants it to be. “You like it that much? You don’t mind me…” he put his hands on either side of her head. 

“Really,” she says matter of factly, placing her palm on his hand  and nuzzling in reassurance, “I love the feel of my mouth being full. And of this pretty cock gliding over my tongue.” Her hand grazes his cloth-covered tip, “ I like it when you cum all over me too. “

“You don’t feel like I’m using you?” he asks, still cautious.

“No, not at all. Austin, it actually turns me on.  Besides I don’t think you’d ever make me feel used. Not even when your eyes go nearly black and I can tell all you want is to drive into me over and over, because all I want is to let you. But if you aren’t going to take control, at least tell me if it feels good, that you are liking what I’m doing. Just to pet my ego a little.” 

Her cheeky smirk as her fingers catch the drawstring at his hips sends electricity down his spine. She pulls the waist around his now hard cock,  letting the fabric fall around his feet. 

“Yes Ma’am.” he replies, gently running his fingers over her flowing blonde hair. He can’t help but marvel at her beauty. Not Hollywood perfection fake beauty, but real lived-in gorgeousness that has seen things, done things and wants more of both. The way her bountiful tits glow in the last light of day and the shadows accentuate the dip of her waist. The faint stretch marks on her hips and breasts look like tiger stripes and make her all the more sexy for her unabashed acceptance of them. 

As the glory of him is revealed in the last golden rays of the day, she can’t help but think just how Adonis-like he looks. Blood rushes, tingling, to her core.  God, maybe it’s the light or the angle, but either way she marvels at just how pretty his cock really is up close. He was long, maybe one and a half of her hands palm to fingertips; fingertips that don’t quite reach all the way around to her thumb when she encircles him. The prominent ridge up the underside is crisscrossed with little blue veins in his light skin, drawing her eye up to his perfectly proportioned head. His head that leans slightly to the right, blushed a rose colored pink and was adorned with a glittering clear jewel that welled at his tiny hole.   It was as if it was sculpted by Michelangelo, if he had been born now and unashamed of his love for cock. 

“God, you turn me on so much,” he pets her head, “I don’t think I can see straight.” 

“Well for this, seeing isn’t integral,” she counters before pushing her wetted lips over his cock. Her mouth is soft at first,  the tip of her tongue licking lazy circles around his tip, spreading his pre-cum in her mouth.  She inhales through her nose, his velvety tip is like heaven on her tongue.  She nestles his head onto the roof of her mouth. The corona of him hooked gently against the back of her teeth as the middle of her tongue caresses his underside. 

“Oh I disagree,” his voice husky with desire, “watching you is fundamental to the entire pro- ah-ah-cess.” His word breaks into pieces as the vacuum of her mouth slowly increases as does the depth of his cock down her tongue. 

Eyes closed, she slowly glides her mouth and hand up and down him, twisting slightly at the end. Her tongue flicks  double time, working his length. After a few minutes that are peppered with his ‘Oh Yes’s and ‘just like that’s,  she pulls off him with a gentle pop. Her eyes flutter open to find his own staring down at her, brows furrowed slightly and his nostrils flaring in want, in need. They both breathe in shakily. Her eyes narrow and her lip curls. The air between them pressurized with sensuality. 

“Fuck, Aya,” his legs shake slightly, “how do you do that?”

“Do what, Austin,” she places a gentle kiss on his tip while lazily running her fist up and down his cock.

“Make me want you so damn much with just a look?” His fingers thread through her hair, trying not to grasp hard and just plunge into her. 

She chuckles in her chest and figuring the question was rhetorical, goes back to the delicious work of sucking his cock. 

He stops her  before he cums, pulling out of her mouth. In one seamless motion, he lays her back on the round couch and hovers over her.  Just before she tries to open her legs to him, he places his knees on either side of her thighs, trapping them together. Leaning forward on one hand, he uses the other to guide his tip up and down her labia, nestling himself between her bare, wet lips. Pushing, nudging, his way into her. Once he seats his head into her entrance, he leans on both arms. He pushes slowly, eyes rolling back in his head and groaning. 

She’s actually never been fucked like his before, closed missionary, with her legs together. The extra friction on her labia is good. She runs trembling fingers along his collarbone and down his sternum as he begins to move slowly in and out of her. His pecs flex as he leans on one arm to trail lines of desire over her breasts. She inhales as his fingers skim her nipples. She gazes up at his orange backlit form, it flits through her mind that he is the most beautiful when he is about to take her with fierce passion. 

Austin’s knees slide back a couple inches and he leans forward on his arms, his head and upper torso anchor as his ass and abs contract and release in concert to thrust his now glistening shaft in and out of her. Her curves under him are quickly becoming his favorite sight.  Little moans escape her lips as he lowers to his elbows and presses his forehead to hers. He struggles not to declare his love, not to chant ‘I love you, I love you, I love you” out loud, over and over. He keeps his eyes shut tight. He knows if he opens them, he’ll say it and he can sense that she is not ready to hear it. 

There is just enough friction, enough stimulation to her clit to drive the rack and pinion of her orgasm tighter and tighter.   

“Keep going,’ she whispers, her breath hot on his face and her pussy thrumming with his cock. 

“Uh huh” is all he can grunt back. Her fingers ride the grooves of his ribs as he thrusts and thrusts and thrusts. Nearly losing it into her, barely able to hold back. 

Her abs contract and her legs push against  the weight of his body, fingers dig into his ribs.

“Oh my god, Austin!” she freezes for a moment. The gears wind into that last tooth then release in an audible inhaled gasp just before her spine arches up and the wordless scream he has come to know so well escapes her. 

Once he knows she is cumming, he lets go his hold, fucking into her with everything he has. He rides out her orgasm while simultaneously triggering his own, spilling into her with a gutural rumble that vibrates his chest.  

‘This woman is a fucking dream,’ he thinks as she quivers under him.

#austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #emotional maturity

[family-trauma]

I think most of this is correct except the last part. I don't think we can say for sure that they lack empathy because they are only self centred, doing alot of introspection and self therapy has also shown me that they can be this also because they have very low to no self awareness, if this in turn makes them self centered then that's a different story by itself.

《《¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤》》

Update about therapy:

My therapist has been challenging my way of thinking about my family, specifically the fact that I've come to the conclusion that they have been abusive towards me due to the lack of emotional maturity, however I feel like I might still be correct about this notion as I am the one in the line of fire when it comes to the emotionally abusive words they easily fire at me and expect me to accept it.

Still working on therapy and trying to understand if my way of thinking is correct or not.

#absurd #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #mental wellbeing #mental therapy #self therapy #therapy #emotionally drained #emotional wounds #emotional trauma #emotional abuse #emotional maturity #dysfunctional family #toxic family #toxicity #toxic #toxic people #selfishness #family-trauma

[moonlit-positivity]

Honestly, most of healing is just learning how to better communicate and understand not only yourself on a deeper level, but the people around you too. You gotta learn how to talk about the hard shit with the people in your life. Anytime there's a shift, anytime there's a problem, anytime there's an issue, learn how to bring it up. Stop ignoring it, stop assuming they're gonna take your needs into consideration, stop assuming they're gonna know what you need without ever having said it to them. Directly bring it up. The sooner the better.

You feel like your friend is ignoring you? Ask them about it. "Hey, I've noticed you've been a little distant. Is there something on your mind that's bothering you lately?"

You feel like your friend is flirting with you and you're uncomfortable or not sure how to interpret it? Ask them about it. "Hey, I've noticed we kinda flirt a lot and I was wondering if we could talk about that."

Normalize direct communication. Normalize checking in and asking how you both feel about the relationship in itself.

"hey, I just wanted to know, how do you feel about our relationship/friendship/etc? Is there anything bothering you about us lately? Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

"Hey, what are the boundaries for this situation? What are you okay with? What are you not okay with? How do you want us to handle conflict?"

Ask these things up front. It's literally the best thing you could ever do.

Just stop ignoring the big hard things. Yeah it's hard to account for how people react, especially when you've been abused as a kid. But you've GOT to learn how to bring these things up. Do NOT dwell in the unknowns and unspokens. You're trying to piece together a puzzle without having all the pieces that way. If you need clarity, if you need reassurance, ask for it.

And if it's a problem of, "well I don't want to lose them," or "well I don't want to make them mad at me," then spend some time acknowledging that you need more than what they can give you with this. These are the types of wounds that casual relationships and friendships in your life probably won't be able to help you heal from long term, not without you doing some extra work on your own to acknowledge that the notion of never pissing someone off is unrealistic and it's an unhealthy expectation of yourself and those around you. You can't help but loose people, you can't help but piss someone off, yes, eventually it will happen. They're gonna piss you off too at some point. By avoiding this you're staying stuck in a pattern of your trauma, and though you can't help that, neither can the other ppl in your life either. You've got to learn how to navigate these things on a deeper level if you want to have any chance of cultivating real, meaningful, long standing relationships with people.

So find you some ways to cope with the uncomfortable emotions of being seen and known. That's the only way to get stronger with this type of stuff.

🌸

#recovery #ptsd #trauma #mental health #boundaries #healing #healing thoughts #communication #interpersonal relationships #interpersonal #bpd #actually borderline #living with bpd #dbt #advice #life advice #emotional maturity #emotions #emotional regulation #relationships #friendships #romance #avoidance #self care #self awareness