Tumgik
#my teenage and early 20s years were seriously quite difficult
Note
Hey Gaud, I made it to my 18th birthday, something I never thought I'd make it to. Got any words of advice for a fresh adult?
i used to think i’d never make it to 30 (i spent my teenage years wanting to die, then started recovering. i’m 28 now and going strong. i plan to be here for decades to come. i will outlast every last bastard)
your teenage years 1) are the worst of your life, 2) are almost over
you are not an adult at 18! You are still the same person just with slightly more legal rights. that’s chill! your brain & identity in general will keep changing until ~age 25. again, that’s chill and not a bad thing. 
(time will move somewhat more slowly from then on, but in a good way. like, imagine a fun immortal dumbass OC. Beautiful undying idiot. That’s 28yo you)
your 20s and especially your 30s are gonna be sooooo much better than the shit you’ve seen thus far. You will have time to heal and space to grow.
(At first, you’ll feel like you don’t recognize yourself. Later, you’ll realize every layer of yourself contributed to the person you grew to be.)
(Please don’t leave without experiencing the good stuff. You’ve more than earned it.)
i am so fucking proud of you for making it this far. there are some ridiculously good things ahead, but you gotta stick around to cash in on it.
GROW UP TO BE THE ADULT YOU NEEDED WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG
(at first out of spite, but eventually out of compassion)
we all deserve to grow up to be that adult. and we can. and we will.
4K notes · View notes
thefeedress · 3 years
Text
FFA MUSINGS
I was 17 when I learned the terms "feeder" "feedee" and "feederism" from stumbling across one of those trash documentaries about the kink. Apparently, my sexuality revolved around extremes and predators: creepy straight men coercing naive women into transforming their bodies and their lives - the women didn't particularly seem to be getting off on it or even have much agency in the whole thing. The men were awful. (Sometimes, these days, I look back and wonder how much all the negatives of what I saw were exaggerated by the editing…)
That was my lightbulb moment, where I discovered the label for something very personal and private that I'd had all my life but always felt confused and ashamed about. I now also had the pleasure of feeling extra disgusting and very alone, having been shown what horrible company I was in, and that I now knew I was a feeder, but apparently all feeders were men.
Any furtive investigations online (in the reasonably early days of the internet) seem to confirm this suspicion: female feeders were not A Thing, there might possibly be one or two others out there at best. Male gainers only seemed to exist in their own niche in gay subculture, and although I was happy they were out there somewhere living their best lives, they were obviously Not For Me.
I was 34 when after years of pushing it all to the back of my mind, I finally gave in. I've been with the same (non-feedist) partner since my early 20s, so I just assumed that I'd never be able to explore it irl anyway, and that was that. I can't remember what happened or why I decided that I had to try to find some others to connect with, even just to chat with, but in the end (with my partner's blessing) I found and joined Feabie (of which I have many opinions but I'll leave those for another time…) and interacted with other feedists online for the first time in my life.
Guess what: straight male feedees exist. They exist, and there's fucking loads of them!! Tons of the buggers in my inbox all day every day for weeks. Pretty heady experience going from outcast freak to Much Sought After Item - apparently female feeders really are quite rare, or we don't have much of an online presence (or most of us are lurking in a secret lair somewhere that the others haven't invited me to, rude….) or they're also out there somewhere thinking they're the only one.
The unbridled glee of feeling popular and desirable for being something I'd always felt ashamed of did wear off a teensy bit after the endless onslaught of "hey" "hi" "how u" "ayy babygurl" "I'm looking for a feeder please accommodate all my kinks even though I'm a total stranger and I clearly don't give a shit about you as a human being" "You're a woman on the internet I'm entitled to your attention don't be difficult what's your problem" and my current favourite, the bizarrely ominous "Can I ask ur opinion?" (The answer is no my friend, if I wanted to be spammed with anonymous torso pics that I'm meant to manufacture comments about that you can get off to I'd have asked YOU.)
But. I'm still completely overjoyed that male feedees exist, that I've spoken to so many cool and interesting and lovely guys, that I've had experiences I'd always assumed I wouldn't, that I FINALLY MET OTHER FFAs and they are awesome and now I'm close friends with one and it's freaking GREAT. All of this has also lead my partner and I to discover polyamory and now I'm in love with two people who love me back NOBODY EVER SAID YOU WERE ALLOWED TO DO THAT WHY THE FUCK DID NO ONE TELL ME
There are so many nuances and preferences I'd never considered. I knew what I liked and that's what I sought out in terms of porn and that was that. Actually talking to feedees and learning about the whole spectrum of things they each did or didn't enjoy or want to participate in was a revelation, and also helped me clarify my own preferences myself.
There are still things I've yet to come to terms with or decide how to feel about. The main things I'd always felt guilty or ashamed of were less to do with fat or fat guys, it was the feeding itself.
Where being an FFA is concerned - I like to think that if I'd ever been lucky enough to have a fat boyfriend when I was younger, I wouldn't have been shallow enough to care what anyone else thought. It's possible I'm giving my younger self too much credit; I know for certain that some people in my life would have made nasty comments, I was also hugely insecure myself, and I have no idea what it really would have been like. I have no doubt that living all my life in a fatphobic society has affected me in more ways than I'm even aware of (same as everyone else in some way, I'm guessing....). I think any uneasiness I felt there was less worrying about shallow friends or family members, and more how to find potential fat partners without offending them. I have always been conscious of the fact that the majority of fat people would very likely be horrified to be thought of and objectified through the lens of this fetish. You never know what someone's relationship to their own body is, but it's safe to bet that it's a more complex one than it seems, and also, unless you're expressly invited into that relationship by that person, it's none of your fucking business.
But anyway, the main reason I never had many hangups about it was that I don't think I even *was* attracted to fat people when I was young - sometimes I'm not sure I was even attracted to anyone. I had crushes on boys all the time, but I never thought of anyone sexually. My teenage fantasies were pure belly kink: stuffing, chugging, bloating, inflation, any kind of ridiculous fantasy belly expansion - the actual fattening aspect of feeding was less a part of it, and fancying fat dudes was never connected to it. By the time I'd begun to join the dots and wonder if I liked fat boys, I'd started to happen across media that portrays the worst of Feedism, and since I liked sadistic fucked up stuff and already felt ashamed of it, all of that just confirmed to me that I was right to hate myself. Even now, when I'm exposed to much more conversation about this kink than I ever used to be, I notice a lot of love for soft feedism, wholesome fatness appreciation, body positivity, romance (all of which I absolutely love, don't get me wrong) and I still sometimes feel Iike I'm being left out of the party. Keeping my fingers crossed for more consensual femdom-feedism love (and content, ugh…)
But… what would have happened if I hadn't gotten the fuck over myself and put myself out there, tried to find others? How many other young people see themselves portrayed horribly in the media and hide parts of themselves FROM THEMSELVES forever? What happens next? I've apparently found the one person who likes all the same twisted things I do, but actually getting to see him irl ever or do any of the things we want to do seems impossible, and not just because of Covid.
This fetish is lonely for most of us I think, in some way or another. There aren't many feedists, there don't seem to be as many female feeders or male feedees, there probably aren't many people who will share the same preferences within the fetish that you do, and frankly when you filter out the people who aren't crazy or creepy or don't know how to hold a conversation, the pool shrinks even further. I've seen plenty of posts bemoaning how hard it is to find someone, but seriously, having spent most of my life in a vacuum where this stuff is concerned, I'm still buzzing from having engaged with the small handful of people I've engaged with, even just to chat to.
What I want to say to my younger self is: you're a good person. You're just a kinky bitch, that's all.
I feel like this description probably applies to all the best people, I can live with that.
276 notes · View notes
isaacthedruid · 3 years
Text
Please allow me to tell you about one of my favourite cartoons through this informal essay I did for school a couple of months back. 
Tumblr media
Gravity Falls and How it Did The Unimaginable
**SPOILERS... KINDA**
The 2010s saw the creation of some of the most iconic animated tv shows ever made, the likes of Adventure Time (2010), Steven Universe (2013), Over the Garden Wall (2014) and The Legend of Korra (2012). To explain why this era’s shows are so admirable is honestly rather difficult. Yet, there are many factors that can be taken into consideration when looking for an answer.
The past decade was very successful in perfecting their craft and utilizing the animated format to their favour, creating some of the wackiest and fascinating cartoons ever made. With the advancements made in both 2D and 3D animation for film, this bled into the world of TV as well.
To mention that 2010s cartoons have stunning visuals would be an understatement. Everything about the animation was beautiful; the strong colour palettes, the clean and imaginative character designs, the colourful and immersive backgrounds and especially the mesmerizing worlds that can be found within episodes that are half an hour.
This era’s cartoons also led to a massive shift in storytelling, writing longer-running stories that spread out across seasons while also swapping out episodic adventures for serialization. This heavily aided in the popularization of these shows, due to the rise of internet fandoms and dropping the taboo that cartoons were only for kids. Many shows acknowledged their older viewers by leaving clues and even puzzles to be solved by the theorists who have a large appearance on social media platforms like Reddit, Twitter and Tumblr. As the shows progressed, their fandoms created many theories for what they believed might happen within their favourite series. The top three shows from this era all utilized these changes, being at the forefront of the shift and helping guide the creative vision of 2010s cartoons.
Often regarded as many people’s favourite cartoon, Gravity Falls presented one of the best mysteries of the decade with two seasons and only 40 episodes. Inspired by Twin Peaks and The X-Files, it’s considered as the kids’ version of these two iconic shows as this cartoon acts as many people’s first introduction to horror through bright colours and fun characters.
This series follows the adventures of Dipper and Mabel Pines, twins, who are sent to spend their summer with their great-uncle or Grunkle Stan in Gravity Falls, Oregon. This town is full of oddities like supernatural creatures, insane and eccentric inhabitants, and many puzzles. The Pines twins must adjust to the weirdness while uncovering the mysteries and protecting their new town.
While living in Gravity Falls, the twins are forced to work in the Mystery Shack, a tourist trap created by their Grunkle Stan that overcharges unlucky tourists, teaching about fake monsters despite there being real creatures all over town. On his first day in Oregon, Dipper accidentally came across a mysterious journal written by an unknown author that explains all the oddities to be found in this strange town. This book acts like an encyclopedic of the Weird for Dipper, an inquisitive 12-year-old kid who seeks answers.
Dipper is an extremely intelligent kid, his brain being far more developed than his body. He’s rather awkward and self-conscious as he often stumbles over his words or gets embarrassed trying to talk to girls. Despite this, the boy is an adventurer at heart who just wants to grow up and skip his upcoming teenage years.
While Mabel is quite the opposite in many ways, she is loud and has an in-your-face personality. Mabel is bouncy and fun, she is so excited to start high school. She is easily excitable and for the larger part of the series, she is in her boy-crazy phase. Mabel is a girly-girl as she likes all things; glitter, unicorns, rainbows, partying and crafting. Yet, she doesn’t often compare well with many of the other girls in town, they see her as weird and “too much”.
(In all fairness through, it is not too kind to either of the characters as their personalities are more complex than just awkward nerd and artsy girl-girly.)
Dipper and Mabel’s personalities are very different but somehow, they—along with their Gravity Falls family—manage to solve mysteries and save the town, multiple times.
Gravity Falls is an honestly genius series that completely changed the way cartoons were made. Originally when writing a series, you’d create a base of your story; characters, the universe and a basic plot. Yet, when creator, Alex Hirsch (who was in his early/mid-20)s and his small team first began constructing their show, they planned out everything they could possibly think of for the first season. Additionally, outlining some answers for their biggest mysteries that would be answered at the end of the series.
Despite being rated TV-Y7, this series really pushed the boundaries of kids’ television. From the teeth being ripped out of a deer’s mouth by a demon, rearranging the functions of every hole on a man’s face to an aggressive pop-rock sock puppet show that ended in a dramatic slow-motion scene of the puppets burning. Gravity Falls wasn’t afraid to get a little weird or creepy. Or create some genuine nightmare fuel. 
From the beginning, Gravity Falls had built a mystery into its series, hiding secrets and clues all throughout the show. Most notably were the backwards-recorded message and cryptograms, using roughly nine different kinds, even creating two of their own.
The inclusion of cyphers and mysteries for fans to solve is possibly the reason why this series was so successful. As one of the first shows to do something like this, Gravity Falls used social media and internet fandoms to its advantage.
As mentioned earlier, cartoon fans have quite a presence on social media platforms like Twitter and Tumblr. They create theories and share fun ideas about their favourite shows. Viewers of Adventure Time, Gravity Falls and Steven Universe were all included in their share of theory fun.
Sometimes, fan theories end up being correct but when you’re Gravity Falls creator, Alex Hirsch, you don’t just watch from the sidelines as your viewers figure out the biggest mystery of your show. No, you create a hoax to get your viewers off your trail and that is what he did. Around 2013, only halfway through the first season of the show, viewers had started to follow the clues, theorizing who was the author is Dipper’s mysterious journal.
Unfortunately for the Gravity Falls production crew, the viewers were right— for the sake of readers who have never seen the show, I will not mention who the author was as it would be the biggest spoiler.
In 2013, a supposed leaked image of a tv showing a younger version of the show’s crazy old man character, Old Man McGucket, writing in the infamous journal was uploaded anonymously (by Alex Hirsch) to 4Chan.
Despite the image only being on up for a few hours, it spread like wildfire. Much to the team’s success, theorists stopped searching for the answer to “who is the author” and just accepted the image of McGucket as the truth.
To further push the fake-out, three words were posted to Alex’s Twitter, “fuming right now.”
The tweet was deleted a few minutes later and fans genuinely believed that someone from the Gravity Falls team had leaked the most important part of the story.
While doing research, I came across a Reddit post from April 10th, 2013, the day after ‘leak,’ Alex’s tweet was uploaded. In this post, user, TheoDW uploaded an image of Alex’s tweet with the caption, “It seems that Hirsch got mad at last night’s leak. He already deleted this tweet.”
Seeing the reactions of these Redditors in 2013 is kind of weird and crazy to look at. “He has every right to be upset. Someone internally released a plot revealing screen shot of series breaking spoiler information,” a deleted Reddit account commented.
“This is Alex Hirsch’s biggest success by far, he spent a huge amount of time carefully planning out the series, and then in a moment someone releases a major spoiler. It would make anyone upset,” the user, Time_Loop commented.
“Seriously, this is a nightmare for a storyteller, and shows a breach of trust. I feel so bad for him–honestly, I hope whoever did the leak gets caught and appropriate action is taken. You don’t f–k with someone’s story like this. It’s unprofessional.” the user, lonelybeloved angrily commented.
In 2014, this ‘leak’ was finally disproven when viewers were given an episode on McGucket’s backstory and an amazing tweet from Alex Hirsch. 
Alex had post an image of himself playfully pointing at a monitor with the supposed leaked picture with the caption, “1) Make hoax  2) Upload to 4Chan  3) Post angry tweet about "leak" 4) Delete tweet 5) Let internet do rest”
It is so interesting to look at these comments know that all of this was orchestrated by Alex.
I wish I had been old enough at the time to follow theories and fandom stuff like I do now with current cartoons but really looking at this from an outside perspective, this was insane!
The real author wasn’t revealed until 2015 and when viewers first got the answer to this biggest show on their screens, they must have freaked out!
Following the finale in 2016, a single frame of a stone version of Bill Cipher, the show’s villain, flashed in after the credits had finished.
Alex Hirsch and his team actually created a real-life statue of their villain for their viewers to find and on July 20th, 2016, the Cipher Hunt began.
By following clues, the Hunters found themselves all over the world; Russia, Japan and then travelling throughout the United States for the final 12 clues. When the hunt took them to Los Angeles, actor, Jason Ritter (voice of Dipper Pines, also a massive fan of the series) and Alex Hirsch’s twin sister, Ariel Hirsch (the inspiration for Mabel) joined in the fun helping the search.
Finally, the hunt ended on August 2nd when someone tweeted out an image of the found statue in Oregon, the same state in which the fictional town of Gravity Falls exists. The Cipher Hunt had ended but finding the statue wasn’t Alex’s goal for the scavenger hunt, it was about the journey and bringing together the viewers, more than having them actually find the statue.
Creating its own hoax, an international scavenger hunt and quite a bit of nightmare fuel, Gravity Falls was a show truly unlike any other.
The 2010s saw some of the strongest cartoons ever made, Adventure Time, Gravity Falls and Steven Universe acting as the leaders for multiple different changes in the medium; storytelling, worldbuilding, interaction with viewers, utilizing social media, representation and further pushing music into the cartoon world. From what was created this past decade and what has already been released in 2020, I’m so excited to see what comes next.
Tumblr media
I have another one of these which is on Steven Universe’s representation and music if you would like to see that too!! 
70 notes · View notes
missnight0wl · 3 years
Note
If you look at patients sitting at the corridor, you will see some of them already wear green hospital clothes. So... how hard could it have been to put Jacob in one as well? Not to mention it would have been a chance to change his design to actually reflect he is a grown-ass man in his early 20s. Then again, they can't even do that to Bill so...
Oh yeah, totally. That’s actually what I had in mind when I said “pyjamas”. Admittedly, I’m pretty sure that all of the patients we’ve seen in the hospital clothes are adults, so that actually is a problem with Jacob. But that’s also why I suggested that “his” pyjamas could be reused for other people. For example, during the Assignments at St Mungo’s, there’s a part where MC and Jae tend to a patient – and that person has a child model. So, Jam City could’ve fixed that with Jacob’s hospital outfit.
Now, I see your point about changing Jacob’s model entirely, but I have a bit mixed feeling about it… I mean, it’d be a bit weird if he suddenly got a regular adult model. Sure, it’s been a while since we saw him, but still. That being said, I agree with you that it’s ridiculous that Jacob looks how he looks at his age. And the main problem here is that Jacob should never get a child model. I talked about it in the past already, but even if you want to believe that his growth was stopped while in the portrait, he still was older than MC when they started school. Therefore, that age difference should be reflected in their appearance. Jacob should’ve had Bill’s model. Period. Moreover, it’d make it easier to change him to an adult now. It’d simply be smoother. We haven’t seen him for a while, so yeah, I could buy that he’d grow from “Bill’s size” to adult size.
A similar thing can be said about Bill himself. To be honest, I don’t mind that he didn’t get an adult model most of the time, probably because we see him interacting mostly with us – the kids. But that being said, he could get the new model, for sure. I mean, they were creating his new outfit anyway, right? Why not design it for an adult, and then “transfer” Bill’s head on an adult body? I know it’s probably not a simple “copy-paste”, but it also shouldn’t be that hard to do for a professional. Then, we could even have MC saying something like: “Wow, Bill, that job really changed you! You look so mature and grown-up!”.
Seriously, some of Jam City’s problems have such simple solutions that it really feels like they’re trying extra hard to make things worse. For example, I totally get why MC doesn’t grow. It’d require adjusting all animations, all of the outfits would have to be created in at least two sizes etc. Frankly, at this point, I don’t even want MC to grow because I think it’s better the devs would invest their time in other things. What I don’t understand, though, is why MC’s model wasn’t a little bigger from the beginning. Like, you can’t tell me it was this hard to predict that making MC grow will be difficult. And sure, some people could say then: “Oh, that’s a big 11-year-old!”. But the first years are short anyway, so it’d quickly blend in. Then, we'd have a pretty tall kid and not-so-ridiculously-short-but-actually-quite-average teenager.
Besides, it wouldn’t even be that unrealistic. Personally, I was quite tall as a kid, always one of the tallest (or the tallest) in my peer group. But it lasted until I was like… 13? Then my growth slowed down a lot, and by high school, it turned out that my height is very average.
So yeah, Jam City could really try to slow down a little and ask themselves whether what they’re doing actually makes sense or it could’ve been done better (and more effective).
10 notes · View notes
dwellordream · 3 years
Text
“Even beyond the age when girls might be encouraged to play in the city streets, their presence was sanctioned by another activity: the healthful walking between home and school, and the long constitutionals judged critical to a maturing girl’s health. If the lives of Victorian girls were defined by disciplines, one of those disciplines was daily exercise, most commonly long walks, sometimes of several hours’ duration, from one side of town to the other.
Good daughters embraced a walking regimen as religiously as they did a regimen of diary keeping. Like writing, though, walking suggested form rather than content. In their long rambles from one side of town to the other or into the country, or their promenades back and forth along Main Street, girls achieved a level of social freedom which ran against the grain of chaperoned domestic propriety. 
Most physicians and advisers agreed about the benefits of walking. Writing in the 1890s, the Ladies’ Home Journal quoted ‘‘a celebrated physician’’ when it endorsed walking as the preferred form of exercise. ‘‘Tennis, he believes, is too violent; cycling renders women awkward in their walk; cricket is also an uneven exercise; at golfing the strokes made are not conducive to the cultivation of physical beauty.... Riding is one-sided, and croquet is not exercise at all. Walking, however, may be fast or slow, according to the desire or health of the individual. Walking is probably the only exercise which calls every part of the body into active and healthy motion.’’ 
Earlier, a writer for the same magazine instructed American girls how to walk: ‘‘Let the arms swing free; throw the shoulders back, the chest forward and the head high.’’ Another columnist recommended other sports for girls, including tennis, bicycling, rowing, and any men’s sport ‘‘with but one exception, foot-ball.’’ But she fell back on walking as both the simplest and ‘‘perhaps the best,’’ suggesting that girls build up to six miles per day. Walking was an approved form of exercise for a range of Victorians, but it was clearly girls who had both the most time and the most need for its healthful effects. G. Stanley Hall, in his opus Adolescence, suggested the special role which walking filled in the lives of unmarried women, who ‘‘are, and ought to be, great walkers.’’ Walking, Hall implied, might tap energies otherwise likely to go to unhealthy activities, such as ‘‘estheticism’’ or the solitary vice of ‘‘self-abuse.’’ 
He explained, ‘‘Dr. Taylor thinks . . . that the difference between boys and girls in learning self-abuse on account of the more obvious anatomy of the former is overestimated, and that the latter, more commonly than is thought, not only find their organs and use them improperly, but are more difficult to cure of this vice.’’ A healthy alternative for unmarried women was to spend that excess energy in walking which married women and mothers might spend ‘‘normally in other ways—’’ an allusion both to the demands of raising children and to coitus itself. Walking was exercise, therapy, and ideology all in one. Sarah Browne, a married woman writing at midcentury, explained her walking in language appropriate to her region and class: ‘‘I walk again this forenoon in search of health—my walk is a principle, a religious duty, so the time is not lost.’’ 
Time spent walking was time invested rather than squandered. Less intense than modern jogging, aerobics, or weight regimens, the walking of nineteenth century girls nonetheless could compete in seriousness; what it lacked in strenuousness was compensated for in its duration, sometimes occupying two or three hours of the day. Margaret Tileston’s sister Mary was afflicted with health problems throughout her adolescence in the 1880s.
Undoubtedly Margaret’s regular walking, on the streets of Salem, Massachusetts, at first in her sister’s company, was in part a response to Mary’s ‘‘search for health.’’ Beginning at the age of thirteen, Margaret worked up to two hours per day as the time she was expected to walk. Even when it was bitterly cold outside, Margaret walked. Even when she had no company, she walked, ‘‘simply for the sake of taking a walk.’’ 
Some of her walking took place at school recess, but that still left an hour and a half of walking to do either before or after school. When she missed an hour of exercise, she recorded it in her diary. She sometimes walked early in the morning before the sun came up. (One May morning she got up at 4:20 and walked an hour before breakfast.) She often did not return home until after dark, one winter night not making it back until 7:00 p.m.
After one day of walking, during which she had ‘‘thought a good deal,’’ she still found herself short of the required two hours, so she and her sister walked up and down in front of the house before going to bed. Only once did she confess to her diary that walking two hours was ‘‘a tiresome thing to do daily.’’ As befit her self-improving temperament, she instead used this bodily discipline as the occasion for a mental one, explaining that during one long walk she had ‘‘got some more ideas about walking.’’ 
Seldom do we have witnesses—or walkers—quite as disciplined as Margaret Tileston, but documents of other teenage girls suggest that walking was considered both a preventative and a palliative. When Alice Stone Blackwell’s head ‘‘felt as though I had been hung up by the heels and all the blood had run into it, filling it almost to bursting,’’ her cousin Emma ‘‘prescribed a walk, and we found our way to the chocolate factory.’’ When she took a long circle route home from school—‘‘about 7 miles I should think’’—she relayed her sense of accomplishment: ‘‘Am at present in serene enjoyment of a good conscience and blistered feet.’’ 
…In addition to being a discipline, however, walking was a necessity for most maturing girls. Going to school in the nineteenth century usually meant walking to school, often in company with friends and classmates. Between discipline and necessity, there were enough agemates walking in the streets that urban girls rarely needed to walk alone.
Indeed, the hours spent walking became opportunities for sociability, for making and broadening acquaintances, for flirtation. The walking that began as a discipline or an expedient eventually turned into an occupation in its own right, which gained its meaning from the opportunities it offered for peer relations beyond adult authority. Walking to school in itself could become a highly choreographed peer ritual. 
Jessie Wendover attended public high school in Newark, New Jersey, in the 1880s and 1890s, and in her diary she enumerated her walking companions. When she was fifteen, Wendover often collected friends as she went so that ‘‘we eight went down together.’’ Sometimes, however, they would break into pairs or regroup, as when one friend ‘‘got one of her amusing cranky spells on and tried to make herself believe she was mad at me, and said she would not walk with me.’’ The foursome broke into pairs then, with one pair removing their hats as they puffed up the hill, and the other sitting on the stoop and laughing at them. For Wendover the significance was that ‘‘we four have gay times going to and from school now-a-days.’’ 
…For the more reserved Margaret Tileston, walking in the Salem streets only gradually expanded her social world and encouraged her to take initiatives within it. After a slow beginning in coeducational Salem High School, Tileston gradually discovered connections to her community. ‘‘I can scarcely take a walk without meeting one of my school-mates or at least some one that I know,’’ she observed in the spring, after beginning classes the previous December. She soon began to walk with some of these schoolmates, noting the next fall, ‘‘I begin to feel better acquainted with the girls in my class.’’ 
The next winter she noted the company of a boy: ‘‘Dick Manning walked along with me for a part of the way.’’ By the following month, she confessed in the spine of her diary, she felt bold enough to initiate relations: ‘‘I bowed to Master Smith on my way to school.’’ The next week, the group of girls she was walking with actually invited some boys to ‘‘turn round with us, but they could not.’’ The confidence Tileston was gradually accruing allowed her on her own to overtake a boy that month and accompany him to school. Margaret Tileston did not record the ensuing conversation, but she did note some of the subjects she touched on in her long walks with other friends. 
On one three-hour walk, she and her companions talked of friends, boys, teachers, and dancing. In different walks that summer of her sixteenth year, Tileston mentioned conversations ‘‘about calling boys by their first names.’’ Margaret Tileston was a purposeful young woman, as her extraordinary diaries make clear. Yet even for Tileston, the meaning of walking gradually incorporated its sociability.
For many girls less focused than she, walking up and down city streets—or ‘‘promenading’’ as detractors would describe it—nearly lost its function as exercise in its fostering of peer intimacies. Ruth Ashmore, the Ladies’ Home Journal columnist championing restrictive morality, cautioned that if there was a possibility that a girl might be joined by boyfriends on a walk, she should be accompanied by a chaperon. (And in any case, a girl of eighteen should not go out without a chaperon.) 
This was only one of a long collection of warnings—observed mostly in the breach—offered by advisers anxious about the freedoms of girls in the city. Ruth Ashmore’s advice ran at cross purposes with other, older codes of courtliness which made men responsible for the safe passage of women through city streets. In reflection of this chivalric remnant, it was customary for boys to escort girls during and after evening events, dances, or parties. Often these escorts seem to have been assigned by the hostess. In a later interview, Etta Crawford recalled her life as a girl in frontier Portland, Oregon, in the 1860s and 1870s. Customarily, she would receive written invitations to dancing parties in homes, which specified the name of the escort who would be responsible for getting her to and from the event and for seeing ‘‘that you were properly escorted all evening.’’
She was careful to distinguish this constant attendance from the practice of ‘‘dating’’ popular in the 1930s at the time of her interview: ‘‘We really didn’t have dates. Mother considered we were too young. . . . I don’t approve of this present-day manner of traipsing around half the night. None of the boys that attended me to the dances were on calling acquaintance.’’ This imposed arrangement was reflected in other girls’ accounts of such evenings.
At the age of twelve in Milwaukee in the 1860s, Cassie Upson wore her white dress and pink sash to a ‘‘sociable,’’ returning home at 11:30. She declared that she had enjoyed herself ‘‘only pretty well,’’ perhaps because of her partner: ‘‘I think my escort’s name was Clark. Oh! he was a gawky.’’ When Jessie Wendover attended a boy’s birthday party in 1885 at the age of thirteen,  she noted that there were about a dozen ‘‘couples there.’’ She arrived at about 8:00 p.m., she said, and returned home at the extraordinary hour of 3:00 a.m., noting that ‘‘Harry Mccarthy saw me down to supper and home.’’
Wendover led a protected life and was most often accompanied by her parents to and from social affairs and when she went downtown in the evening. It appears, though, that her parents on the Atlantic seaboard shared with Etta Crawford’s on the Pacific Coast a parental protocol which sanctioned the assignment of ‘‘escorts’’ for girls as young as twelve and thirteen.
Whether assigned or not, though, it was incumbent on boys or men not to leave girls unescorted in the evenings—especially as those girls became young ladies. (This chivalric convention put a strain on outnumbered high school boys, who nonetheless remained responsible for their female classmates after evening events.) 
While a student at the Harvard Annex, Annie Winsor recorded an embarrassment in the diary written for her parents. She had attended an evening party in Cambridge which her attractive Latin instructor was also attending. She and a fellow female student had agreed to go home together. (She reported that her friend ‘‘trots to and fro from Miss Smith’s at all hours and did not a bit mind going from here alone.’’) The two young women timed their departure carefully: ‘‘We waited till Mr. Preble [their teacher] and two girls had got safely out the door and away, and then started downstairs, and with averted eyes ‘thro’ the entry, opened the front door, and there stood Mr. Preble leisurely fixing his neck handkerchief—evidently waiting for some one.’’ 
The friends ‘‘felt like two children caught at the jam-pot and no way of escape.’’ The consequences were preordained. Mr. Preble would be obliged to walk everyone home, which was indeed what happened. In a letter to her brother, Ellen Emerson, daughter of Ralph Waldo Emerson, described her discomfort with such genteel expectations when she returned from a party.
Her escort, she explained, was a Mr. Soule, ‘‘who— I can imagine your exultation—made me take his arm. But the experiment confirmed me in my old opinion. It is easier and pleasanter to walk alone and be able to keep one’s dress out of the dust. There!’’ Like other chivalric practices, being escorted was a ritual meant to convey obligation as well as protection. Girls’ presumed need of escorts provided access to welcome and unwelcome suitors alike. 
Cassie Upson noted in 1866 that ‘‘that abominable little nip of a Perkins’’ had walked her home from church and had discerned only that ‘‘I wasn’t quite as talkative as usual.’’ A reprinted item from a student newspaper in Kingston, New York, in the 1880s suggested that girls reject the terms, replying, ‘‘‘I would rather be excused,’ when asked by young gentlemen for the privilege of escorting them home from church at night. The practice may be hard on the ‘boys,’ but it is one which every self-respecting girl will adopt and adhere to. For a young lady to be asked on coming out of church, . . . to surrender herself to the society of some young hoodlum who has been waiting outside while she was decorously attending divine worship, is an insult which would justify a kick from father or big brother.’’ 
Rather than seeking contact in ‘‘this sneaking, unmanly, vagabondish way,’’ an interested suitor should ‘‘call upon her at home, and take pains to ascertain whether his society is agreeable to her parents as well as herself.’’ This item suggested the dilemma embedded in the system of boys escorting girls: sometimes the solution was worse than the problem it was meant to address.
The practice of escorting equally opened possibilities for flirtation, of course. The Milford student newspaper slyly noted that the ‘‘girls of ’88 all believe in ‘protection’—after class parties.’’ Lily Dana noted one such arrangement: ‘‘Of course Brinckerhoff went with Edith Barry and I saw them turning up one of those lonely streets by the Catholic church, in just the opposite direction from her house. Mother says she does not think it was proper.’’ 
Whether proper or not, it was clear that intimacies contracted within approved contexts of school or church would have ample room to flourish even within genteel practices coming and going in the city streets. The historian Beth Bailey has found radical changes in courting practices in the 1920s resulting from the movement from the maternally supervised ‘‘front porch’’ of home to the ‘‘back seat’’ of male-owned cars.
The fact was, though, that many middle-class girls in the nineteenth century were not at home but at church or at school, and in the evening they were presumed to need male escort well beyond the surveillance of their mothers. During the day, girls had more freedom to walk on their own. These less formal walking arrangements—ostensibly undertaken to run errands, to get to or from school, or for exercise—provided ample opportunity, too, for flirtation. 
Alice Blackwell and Lizzie Morrissey, both writing in Boston in the 1870s, though from different class perspectives—found themselves unwitting walking partners in such scenarios. When Alice Blackwell, nearly phobic about encounters with boys, went to meet two schoolmates, the pair was otherwise occupied, talking loudly and waving handkerchiefs to attract the attention of two boys. Alice was so mortified that she hid behind a hedge and finally strode home by herself, ‘‘descended to the cellar, groped my way to the milkroom, and soothed my irritated feelings by drinking an enormous quantity of milk.’’ 
When Lizzie Morrissey walked to a nearby square to hear a public band concert with two friends, she reported that the walk down was nice, ‘‘but when we got there Ida soon left me for Art Woodride and didn’t come back again; I felt provoked. Then Hattie left me for two fellows, but she came back and introduced them.’’ After this bad experience, Morrissey concluded that she would ‘‘never go to the square again when anything is up with either of them.’’ Part of her subsequent isolation within her house might have been a response to discovering herself abandoned by her best friends in favor of flirtatious promenading. 
A more willing participant was Mabel Lancraft, a high school student and spirited daughter of a Fair Haven, Connecticut, oyster grower, whose 1880s diaries cover her fourteenth through seventeenth years. Lancraft spent much of her time in her early teens promenading and flirting outdoors. One summer day of her fourteenth year, for instance, after a trip to the ocean, she and her friends were playing house—‘‘I was the mamma and they were the children’’—when a neighborhood boy came along and suggested they go to the park. ‘‘So we went and we met Mr. Hovey down there though he didn’t approve of us going.’’
The group of friends continued to play, though, picking up others. ‘‘Sadie and I had our arms around each other and Sadie was my beau.’’ The boys accompanied the girls nearly home and exchanged compliments. ‘‘Sadie said I was awfully pretty and if she was a boy she would be in love with me. And he [Ed Dupee] said what pretty eyes that Miss Lancraft has got and he agreed with Sadie.’’ 
Mabel Lancraft later drew a line through the above, an early—and ineffective—moment of reserve; Lancraft grew more daring as time went on. By the end of the summer, she announced boldly that she and a friend met two boys of their acquaintance ‘‘and we raised and we promenaded up and down with them in front of Mr. H. Olds.’’ At the beginning of the summer, Lancraft simply disregarded the advice of a neighboring adult; by the end of the summer, the opportunity to flout respectable opinion was part of her pleasure.
Mabel Lancraft’s early teenage flirtations were generally confined to friends and schoolmates, whom she met and bowed to in their mutual walks around her Fair Haven neighborhood, to the station, and also sometimes through downtown New Haven. When she was seventeen, though, Mabel Lancraft confessed a modest initiative with a stranger. ‘‘Coming out in the car a young fellow stood up in front of me and I am afraid I flirted a little.’’”
- Jane H. Hunter, “Friendship, Fun, and the City Streets.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood
7 notes · View notes
whetstonefires · 4 years
Note
Do you think the DC fandom maybe, Infantilizes Tim a little too much? Like for a rich kid character who's main trauma for a long time was a getting left home alone too much there's an oddly amount of meta abt how much how much his parents hurt him~ compared to, y'know the two poor characters who grew up with physically abusive dad's+druggie mom's, or the two that were raised assassin cult's, etc
…well, yeah, I do kind of think that? His whole schtick for so long was being too old for his age in ways that didn’t sacrifice his jokey, relatable teenager energies. It’s weird how little of that we see anymore, sometimes.
And then DC broke him and discarded him and he’s sort of awkwardly hanging around getting reimagined as more woobie with every fan generation. It is weird!
But tbh I do get it. And I think the reason his parents’ failure of him and his vulnerability get played up so much, and Jason and Steph’s sufferings (while used a lot for things like motivation and context) not dwelt on quite so much in the same lugubrious style, are kind of the same reason.
Which is that canon didn’t commit to it. Jason and Steph’s experiences with bad parenting were foregrounded and retconned more dramatically awful several times. (There’s some definite classism in how that was approached imo, and I’m never budging on being mad about DC retconning out Catherine being sick and then ignoring her forever in all Jason characterization because a drug death invalidates a person ig, great message during the opioid crisis guys.)
They engaged and coped with it–Steph (and Cass, our #1 canon batfam parental abuse victim) pretty directly, Jason a little less so because of the dubious and fluctuating canon status of most of the content more specific than ‘poverty, homelessness, theft, parental drugs and crime in there somewhere,’ so most of his parent issues have been focused on Bruce. He sure has dug into them tho. 😂 Rarely well or productively, thanks DC, but it’s explicitly part of his character, is my point.
Whereas upper-middle-class Tim was always treated by the narrative as fortunate and unharmed by his experiences with his parents. Even though they were clearly behaving badly in several ways, and Tim showed signs of being harmed by it.
Tim outside of immediate moments of frustration always was of the opinion he was Fine, and Very Fortunate Actually.
Therefore a huge chunk of the numerous everyone who’s got parent-related mental and emotional harm, but has struggled to have that validated and hasn’t responded with a lot of anger toward the parent, identifies with Tim. The only one who’s never really lashed out at his parents for fucking up with him. The one who still needs it explored, because canon ultimately didn’t.
[editing post to put in a readmore because lol it’s long, post otherwise unchanged]
(Dick obviously didn’t ever have any Issues with the Graysons, but he Angry Teenagered at Bruce so hard it changed Bruce’s characterization permanently, rip.)
The things Jason, Steph, and Cass have been through are dramatic, obvious, and fit stereotypes because that’s what they’re based on.
That’s important content to have, but because it’s right out there in your face even people who identify with it quite a lot are less likely to feel the need to work all the way through it again in fanworks. That part’s there. It’s text.
(Well actually Jason having been physically abused kind of wasn’t? I think? It was mostly assumed on the basis of stereotyping and Jason’s not caring about the man much even as he felt possessive of information about his death, which is valid. I don’t actually know what’s up with Willis now, Lobdell did some weird shit that lacked emotional resonance or staying power because he’s Lobdell and has no soul.
Cass’ wandering years are also ludicrously underdeveloped. But very very few comics fans or writers can personally relate to being amazing child warriors with no grasp of language living feral under bridges. That part of her life is consistently represented in terms of absences, in terms of its deviation from the norm and the deficits of normality it left her with, which is typical but unfortunate.) 
-
The interesting things to do with these characters are often informed by the bad stuff in their childhoods, but there’s relatively rarely that much more to say about the fact that those things were bad. They know they’re bad. They’ve had a lot of on-panel rage about it, as discussed above. Steph and Cass both beat the shit out of their dads.
Jason is, in fandom especially, a sort of Platonic ideal of a kid who’s mad about his bad childhood and really bad at figuring out where to point that rage.
(Damian is a whole other kettle of fish, because he’s been lumbered by so many detailed retcons coming so fast no two people can seem to construct compatible models of what his early childhood was like, and even more because he’s still ‘a child’ enough that he’s necessarily in a different stage of processing than someone who’s officially only a few years older than him at this point, but still functionally 8 and also 20 years older, and whose parents are no longer in the picture to continue screwing up.
Also there’s no question that if he brings up an abusive thing the League did, he will be validated by his current environment about his realization that it was in fact bad. There’s a lot of fic on that theme! But it doesn’t have the same tone precisely because it is usually understood that that support will be there if he wants it. Realizing that his previous context contained things that were wrong keeps being made the focus of his arc.)
The badness of Tim’s childhood, on the other hand, was mainly in subtext. Even when we were clearly meant to understand Jack was fucking up, like when he canceled plans with Tim at the last minute to go on a date with Tim’s stepmother, or that infamous time he came to apologize for not being a great parent and got mad Tim was distracted by a crisis on TV so he flew into a rage and took the TV and smashed it and was like ‘that’ll teach you,’ it wasn’t leaned into.
The story didn’t treat Jack as a minor villain to be overcome but like a sort of environmental hazard of childhood, like homework, to be endured and coped with. Tim said things like ‘it’s fine’ and ‘at least he left the computer.’
(And like. It’s not about having a TV and computer in his room. It’s about not letting a child have boundaries, pointedly not respecting a child’s possessions, creating an emotionally insecure environment, punishing minor infractions in proportion to their momentary impact on your own ego, physically lashing out at a proxy for the child…)
Rather like Tom King later didn’t understand about the punching from Bruce, whoever did that story (probably Dixon? I don’t care enough to check) did not understand how serious a case of bad parenting that scene was. That is most definitely textbook abusive behavior. (It’s a hell of a lot more common abusive behavior than being a lame supervillain or shooting you when you screw up, and a lot more specific than ‘was a thug, might have hit me, dead now.’)
And Tim was never allowed to be mad at his parents about it. It was fine. He needed to be ignored so he had the freedom to be Robin. He deserved his dad being mad at him because he was keeping secrets. He complained too much, although objectively he did not.
The universe punished him for ‘complaining,’ more than once. We cut straight from him shunting aside his disappointment that his postcard from his parents was just to say they weren’t coming home yet after all with ‘if it will stop all the fights they’ve been having lately it’s more than fine’ to them getting kidnapped.
He agreed not to come on the rescue mission. His mom never made it home, and his dad was in a coma for a while. And then ultimately Jack died as a result of Tim’s decision to be Robin, immediately after finally deciding to accept it.
So Tim walks around feeling a huge burden of responsibility for his parents’ deaths, and completely unable to process any hurt they did him as real or valid, especially in comparison with the far more blatant awfulness other people have been through, and canon is clearly never going to address it. Or even acknowledge it properly.
Let me repeat that because it’s kind of my main point:
People are fixated on getting Tim’s emotional abuse validated because that’s an incredibly important step in recovering from emotional abuse, and it’s one canon consistently denied him.
How ‘bad’ things are ‘in comparison to’ problems other people have is a bad and unhealthy way to engage with trauma. Okay? That’s just a really harmful framework to apply to pain.
It’s also a way that both Tim and people with experiences similar to Tim’s are encouraged to engage with their own experiences, compounding the existing problems.
So. Not a form of relatable DC was ever actually aiming for when they tried so hard (and pretty effectively) to make him a relatable character as Robin, but an enduring one for a lot of fans.
-
So Tim’s childhood is a natural target for fanworks in a different way than the traumas that have been made explicit and taken seriously by the text. And then a lot of that got compounded by the way the introduction of Damian as Robin was handled, and the lack of resolution that got. And his current status as not quite having a place in the family anymore.
So between the level of projection encouraged by that context and how relatively difficult to access Tim’s Robin run has become ten years after the fact, this has led to a lot of fanworks on these themes that are based mostly on other fanworks, and stray further and further from the original content.
So at this point there’s an entire wing of Tim’s fandom wherein this side of him has expanded enormously, and he primarily exists to suffer, frequently in ways that 1) escalate to a point that is inarguably ‘valid’ and hard to dismiss and 2) set him up to rebound from it in whatever way the writer finds emotionally satisfying or useful–being ultimately cared for and reassured by people who value him (the most infantilizing option but like, popular for obvious reasons), or unveiling his brilliant scheme that was causing him to pretend to be passive in the face of mistreatment, or turning around and using his genius ninja skills to wrest power back from his abusers, or just laying down some sick burns about being treated fairly.
But not that many of the last one, because that’s mostly done with other batfam members.
Tim’s become a vehicle for a lot of vicarious coping that Steph and Jason just aren’t appropriate for, because they get angry and they get even. And those are stories that exist already, so there’s less scope for telling your own.
And because Jason’s reaction pattern is ultimately so masculine (i’ll make them all sorry! with my guns! blam blam!) while Tim’s is pretty gender-neutral, the demographics of fanfic mean that the bulk of the people using Tim vicariously in this manner are female-aligned, which has over time feminized this archetype of him a lot. Sometimes in ways I find really uncomfortable, like there’s a lot of forced pregnancy stuff which activates my panic buttons. x.x
But, ultimately, it’s fandom. People are going to do what they’re going to do, DC in their perpetual fail has hung Tim out to dry in narrative terms, and I’d rather the people who are using Tim for victimization narratives over the people who can’t dismiss or discredit him fast enough now that his position has been filled. 🤷‍♀️ What we gonna do? Fave’s in an awkward spot. DC hates us. This is the life in this comic book pit. XD
-
Also if you’re the same anon who left me a callout about op of that weird Steph post in my inbox, or if you aren’t @ that person, 1) I refuse to get involved so I’m not answering that ask 2) those aren’t even particularly dramatic fandom crimes? That’s pretty normal? That’s just…Caring Too Much About Ships And Disagreeing With Me.
Do I also feel those opinions are kinda bad? Yeah. But I disagree with everyone about something. Chill.
337 notes · View notes
tkemeaway · 4 years
Text
Operation We-Would-Make-a-Great-Mocha
Summary: Bucky and you spend your work days pairing your costumers up. Modern AU.
Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Reader 
Word Count: 3.3k
A/N: For @buckyofthemyscira, Merry late Christmas and Happy New Year! May 2020 be all you want it to be✨, I hope you enjoy this lil gift😋.
Thanks to @bucky-smiles​ for organizing this Secret Santa thingy and for being patient, you’re awesome💕.
The gif’s a lil sexy but there’s no sexy times in this fic!
Warnings: Fluff? Pining? A lot of clichés and bad pick up lines. Bickering and stuff. Maybe a couple newbie mistakes because this is my first time writing. Bear with me pls!
Tumblr media
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mornings were boring, but what else could you expect from a wrong placed Starbucks? The investors overestimated the interest of locals in overpriced coffee. Something about urbanizing the area, attracting more people and eventually creating a central, more commercial zone. That happened a year ago and the reason the shop was still up and functioning was mainly the horde of teenagers coming in the afternoons after school to have a taste of the “city life”. The mornings however, the mornings were a complete different story. There were two regulars, a large black coffee with a muffin at seven thirty and a hot chocolate at nine, and from time to time some clueless visitant who had gotten lost in the nameless streets of the maze-like town and came across the isolated, kind of hidden, coffee shop.
That Monday morning in particular there was a surprising amount of five people in the shop, three being costumers. Black Large had arrived half an hour later than her usual time and Hot Chocolate had apparently decided to start his day earlier than he was accustomed to, both of them taking quite a while to finish their orders. An occurrence that has turned into an usual one after the first time Black Large seemingly slept through her alarms and entered the coffee shop in a hurry to fetch her order and throw some cash on the counter at the same time Hot Chocolate was enjoying some polite small talk with the barista while waiting for his order to be made. An amazing moment happened then when, just like in the romcoms, they glanced at each other casually but their eyes glued to the other’s and for a moment it was just the two of them, until his order was placed in the counter and the world began to turn again. It was fun for the two baristas to watch how, since that day, they started coming to the shop with a bounce to their step, their gaze more alert and the tables they chose to sit in more close to the other’s each day. Fun. Yeah. At least at first.
“Oh my god, this is ridiculous, that was the fifth time in 20 minutes that they smiled at each other!” She told him as she put her hands in the air, making him chuckle. “This is not funny Buck, we gotta help this poor souls!”.
“Remember what happened the last time you helped some poor souls get together?” Bucky crossed his arms and she huffed.
“That’s not fair, how was I supposed to know? They seemed so in love!”
“He took her money and ran away!”
“Okay, okay, not my best work, but I introduced Steve to Peggy and they’re doing amazing. Besides, we know these two, doesn’t she work with your mom? And I’m sure I saw him in that big Christmas party last year. There’s no way either of them is that bad.” She argued and gave him puppy eyes. “Prithee help me help them?”
She knew the answer way before he made up his mind. That’s how it would always go between them. If he was being difficult, she would tell him that nothing happened in that goddamned town and that he was denying her the tiniest amount of fun she could gather from her boring life, that she could be doing drugs and riding motorcycles but she just wanted to be her selfless self and help someone to find love, and he would then comply to whatever she was asking of him. She would think it was because her amazing persuasion skills and excellent arguments, for she was blind to the loving look and affectionate smile she would receive from her coworker.
“Wow there, doll, no need to go shakespearean on me. I’ll do it, but the beers are on you tonight, I’mma need some alcohol after helping you chase away the only two regulars of this fucking place with your plotting.” 
She squealed, took his hand in hers and squished it against her heart, “I like you so so much, do you know that?” He gave her a pained smile that she didn’t notice because she was already scheming. “I’m thinking maybe we can put a message in her muffin and say it’s from him?”
He rose an eyebrow playfully. “Do you know how to letter with icing?”
“No, but I do have an amazing, handsome, crafty coworker who does.” 
————
“I’m soy into you.”
“You are just the way I like my coffee. Tall, dark and strong.”
“Bean thinking about you a latte.” 
“Affogato? Afforgeto where I am when I look at you.”
“Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, so caramel me maybe?”
“That wouldn’t even fit in there! And it has a sexual innuendo that I’m not sure she would appreciate much.” He said with an amused smile.
“But it’s genius!” She punched his arm as he laughed. “You’re awful at brainstorming.”
“I just don’t know why you’re putting so much effort into this, you don’t even know these people!” He questioned jokingly, and it was just for the sake of it, because he loved how stubborn she could be when she wanted something, and he knew he would do anything he could to help her get whatever she ever wanted.
“I’m projecting onto them the kind of corny as fuck romance my life is lacking.” She deadpanned and then chuckled. “Look, if I can’t have a love story with my guy then I’m gonna help them have theirs.”
Bucky’s heart clenched at her statement but he still joked. “You mean all it would take to win you over would be to throw a lame pick up line at you?” That earned him a glare from her. “You know, someday you’ll have to tell me who this guy you’re always mentioning is,” and he actually, desperately wanted to know who the fuck was this man that had everything he wanted and didn’t do anything about it. Y/N had casually mentioned him a couple times but when Bucky asked about it, she just said that the guy was way out of her league and that she wouldn’t do anything about it anyways so there was no reason to reveal his identity. 
It was Tuesday morning and that meant matchmaking time for Bucky and Y/N. It was six thirty and there weren’t any clients to serve as it was expected. She was sitting on the counter with a notebook in her lap while she chewed on a pen pensively, unaware to the effect this little action had on Bucky, who was leaning on his elbows by her side. They were using a notebook to draw a representation of the chocolate muffin that was destined to get the missive across, and trying to find the perfect line to catch the attention of Black Large without it being creepy. It needed to be precise, flirty but appropriate and the correct amount of funny. Bucky seriously doubted that a cheesy pick up line would attract the very professional looking woman, but Y/N was certain that she had to have a playful side to her in between all that business attire, and she was sure that the soft personality and cheery attitude of Hot Chocolate was the perfect combination to bring it out. All of this was on Y/N’s mind when it came to her.
“I got it!” She screeched and jumped off of the counter to scribble something on the paper that she then held in front of her for Bucky to see. There it was, in the middle of the wonky lined muffin. He left his position on the counter to fully face her and stared blankly at the words for a couple seconds only to immediately double over with laughter.
“We would make a great mocha together? Really?”
“I don’t know what you laughing at, this is honestly the finest piece of art my brain ever produced.” She rolled her eyes at him. “You just don’t get it, it’s because she orders a coffee and he has th—”
“Oh no, I do get it.” He continued to laugh and she gave him an offended look, so he put his hands up in surrender. “Okay fine, seeing that you’re the Cupid here and I’m merely one of your arrows, I’m gonna trust your oh so ever magnificent wisdom in the love field. But you owe me for this, specially if it fails and they sue us or something.”
“They can try,” she scoffed, “but since you don’t trust my amazing plan at all let’s make this into a bet, shall we?” She looked at him mischievously while crossing her arms. “If it works, and it will, you have to take my morning shift this Friday. If not, then you win.”
“What do I win exactly? When I win.” He leaned on the counter again and smirked at her. “And please define ‘works’ in this context. I’d feel lucky if she doesn’t start screaming at him or walks out immediately but I don’t think that’d be enough to call you a winner, doll.”
“If you win, you can choose whatever you want, and that’s if they don’t at least exchange numbers.” She extended her hand to him. “You in?”
He shook her hand and sighed, “I am.”
“Amazing! Operation Mocha-Love is on! To the cave!”
————
“Explain to me why is it me who has to do the delivery again?” Bucky asked her.
It was eight in the morning already and it wasn’t long before the subjects arrived. The Glorious Cupid’s Arrow (code for the muffin) was sitting on the back counter behind the display racks where the coffee was made. It was your normal chocolate muffin, except it had the words ‘We would make a great mocha together’ written in small cursive.
Y/N stopped sweeping the floor and leaned on the broomstick with her head over her hands. “You have to buy us a little time in case Hot Chocolate decides he doesn’t want to come early today. If he’s not here when we give her the muffin she will smell the distinct smell of bullshit don’t you think?”
“I get that, but why me?” He suddenly stopped wiping the counter and looked at her. “And what did you just call him?”
“Hot Chocolate? Codename for Carl, because he orders a... well, a hot chocolate? You know?” She hesitated but smiled when she saw that Bucky was grinning at her and continued sweeping. “And about her, I don’t think she likes me that much since the first time she came here and I gave her a cold coffee by accident.”
“She as in... Black Coffee?” He guessed.
“Large Black.” She chuckled.
“Nice, and what’s my codename?”
“Right now and for the sake of this mission you're Icing Arrow and I’m obviously Cupid.” He laughed and they went silent for a while as they finished their tasks.
“By the way, I know what my reward’s gonna be once this fails miserably.” She looked up at him from her new place behind the counter and rose her eyebrow inquisitively. “I want you to tell me who the guy you like is.”
She huffed in annoyance but before she could reply to his request, the sound of someone entering the shop broke her focus on him and put the plan in motion. Her eyes went wide and she silently hurried him to take position, as he was sat at the table in front of her. She got excited and Bucky even started to feel a little nervous. Though surprisingly, it wasn’t who they were expecting to arrive. Carl walked to the counter where Bucky was waiting for him already and ordered his usual, then sat in the table at the center of the place when Y/N handed him his chocolate, just beside Large Black’s table. 
Before Bucky had the time to comment on how this was perfect timing, the second subject came in through the doors and started walking towards an awaiting Bucky. Y/N could barely contain her enthusiasm while Bucky told the woman, Amanda, Large Black, that he had a special muffin for her as requested by the only other person present in the shop. Her resolution faltered when Amanda furrowed her brow but it came back stronger when a goofy grin slowly made its appearance in her face as she read the inscription in the sweet treat. She subtly did a victory dance when Amanda went to sit with Carl at his table.
————
Bucky showed up for Y/N’s shift on Friday with a defeated look on his face and dragging his feet. This was his sleeping in day. He worked Fridays in the evening, when no one came by, not even the teens, seeing they were getting ready to go out since it was Friday’s night after all. The cherry on top, he couldn’t even see Y/N like every other day working the early hours because he was covering her shift. With the silence that the morning and the solitude allowed, he indulged in the comfort of daydreaming about her. His coworker. His friend. His everything-but-what-he-wanted-her-to-be. 
He kind of disliked her at first. She was clumsy, loud, and didn’t have any boundaries whatsoever. She treated him as a friend since she started working there, a month after him, and his shy reserved self didn’t trust that kind of behaviour coming from a stranger. She would punch him in the arm when laughing at something, call him all sorts of nicknames and rely information on him that he wasn’t sure what to do with (why in hell would he want to know that she could recite all the words to the Kanye West classic Gold Digger or that she could tie her shoelaces in 3 seconds?). 
But she slowly grew on him. Her weird impressions and the way she quoted The Simpsons on a daily basis, how she started working in a coffee shop despite the fact that she hated the smell of it just to prove a point still incomprehensible to him, her temporary fixations on stupid things like pairing two strangers together or the Star Wars franchise (which she made Bucky watch with her in one sitting).
He fell for her in between days of playing Alphabet Categories and nights of drunken karaoke. 
They were friends. She was in love with someone else. There wasn’t much to it and Bucky didn’t like to sulk in it, so he just thought about what it would be like to kiss her. To be the reason she had a dreamy look on her face. To wake up with her and to hug her whenever he wanted and kiss her when she was funny like he always wanted to. He thought about this often, and that was what he was doing when Amanda entered the shop followed by, much to his surprise, Carl himself.
“Hi buddy,” he greeted Bucky once they reached the counter, “where’s your partner in crime today? Tricking some other pair of fools maybe?”
Bucky’s eyes went wide and he started apologizing, “I’m sorry sir, we meant no harm and...” but he trailed off when he noticed how Amanda was containing her laughter while intertwining her arm with Carl’s. “Wait, you two are— it worked?”
“Let’s say it did.” The woman smiled at Bucky knowingly and took out her wallet to put some cash on the counter. “Charge me our usuals, add a muffin to his and let me return the favour, please tell her you like her.”
Bucky just stared at her dumbfounded and she chuckled, but Carl was the one to continue. “You think you’re the only ones with eyes?” Bucky kept silence now worried about Y/N not being as oblivious as he thought. The man in front of him caught that. “She doesn’t know. A two way street apparently... I think we’ll leave you to it and you can bring us our food when you’re ready.”
And with that, they walked to their table.
————
It was Saturday. Y/N walked into the shop to see a nervous Bucky fidgeting in his seat at one of the tables. 
“Sup dork.” He jumped from his seat and stood in front of her. “Wow there, everything alright? You seem a little off.”
“All good, doll. Want some breakfast?” He was already walking behind the counter while she took her backpack and jacket off. “I put extra work into this one, you’re gonna love it, made it myself.”
She scowled but didn’t say anything. She came out of the employees closet with the apron on and leaned on the counter with her elbows supporting her. “Well hit me with it then.”
Y/N saw Bucky falter a little, but he still placed the dessert in front of her and watched her closely while she examined the piece of food.
It was a muffin. A big as fuck muffin, clearly homemade to make the long phrase written on top of it fit, apparently by Bucky, and Y/N’s breath got caught in her throat when she read the words of a beautiful pink color. She thought it was either a joke or maybe another Cupid’s Arrow to light the way of some other lost idiots to love. Though when she looked up at Bucky, the look of utter adoration and hope on his stupidly, impossibly blue eyes left no doubt in her mind. However, she kept her expression as blank as possible. He was desperate already, wondering if he should have said something instead, if he should talk now, but she interrupted his thoughts by saying “You know, it doesn’t work if you already have my number and we’ve known each other for almost a year. I guess it’s fair to tell you who I fancy.”  And, before she could actually see his heart breaking, she brought him closer to her by his shirt and kissed him with the counter between them.
————
“You know, you didn’t actually say anything.” She told him while keeping her eyes in the frapuccino she was occupying her hands with.
It was funny, like watching Large Black and Hot Chocolate pining after the other for weeks, how the largest amount of clients in months decided to come to the wrong placed Starbucks just when Bucky was finally able to taste the lips of the woman he wanted for so long. Even before he had time to properly react, the door opened and a procession of seemingly still drunk gals and pals walked in the shop. This happened from time to time, when hungover people would walk in after a busy night to the only coffee shop open so early on a Saturday.
Bucky smiled and turned her around by her hips to face him. “I like you.”
“How much?” And even if he didn’t expect her to ask him to marry her, he wasn’t expecting that answer either. But then she saw the cheeky grin on her face and cackled. “Are you really going to make me say it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She bit her lip to keep her smile from showing.
He laughed and kissed her cheek. “I like you a latte.”
She kissed him again, conveying her answer with the fervency of her lips and the desperation of her hands in his hair. Bucky brought her even closer to him by her waist and slightly bit her lower lip to gain more access to her and— someone clearing their throat from behind the counter. “Do you mind not making out over my cup?” Said the man with an annoyed tone.
They went back to finishing the last orders with big smiles and hearts aching to embrace the other. “Can you pass the coffee and sugar?” She asked from behind him and Bucky dropped the cup he was working on when she walked to him and stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Because you just made me cream in my pants with that kiss.”
101 notes · View notes
thedankfaerie · 4 years
Text
i am posting this here because i am tired of burdening my boyfriend with my feelings. this is a little nsfw. and this is my call for help. i dont know who to talk to anymore about this.
i need someone to hear what i feel
or at least, a free space to say what i feel 
im in a low place. i feel so awful about myself and my body and i hate this feeling. i hate that this time last year, i was so happy about the way i looked. i was working this awful job that had me so overworked and overtired and poorly treated that i skipped meals and slept through meals regularly... i lost so much weight from stress in just a year and was the skinniest i had ever been. mentally, i was not in a good place being exploited by my managers... but my self esteem re: my body was at a new level i never knew could exist for me.
last year, i felt powerful and confident about my body, and i expressed that through sexuality. i was fucking my ex that i still liked (i grew out of wanting him back, but he never did, and it was nice to have the upper hand). i was also fucking an old fwb that i stayed friends with, that was also recently single, so we reunited again at the perfect time. i was also seeing this one guy (now my boyfriend) so if ever i got tired of the sex i at least was able to calm down and settle down with someone who genuinely wanted to know me. of course, i ended up catching feelings for this guy, and cut off the other two to pursue something more serious (we are now dating and are moving in together next month!) anyways, it was so nice to be wanted. to feel... i guess sexy? sex is empowering. and it shouldn’t be taboo to say that as a woman, or anyone really. i dont want to give off the message that a woman’s validation is fueled by men’s desire - but hey, don’t you feel flattered when someone thinks you’re attractive? desire and lust aren’t everything... but they matter. and they have an impact on how you feel about yourself, whether or not you believe me when i say that is up to you. 
 and i hate that i would gladly put myself through the stress that i did just to feel happy about my body. before the summer ended, i finally had enough and i quit my shitty job. i was jobless for a month, but was able to enjoy the rest of the summer with my new ‘skinny’ body - last year i took my first bikini picture ... a 2 piece! i have never done that. i still think about how happy i was that summer to look and feel good about myself. 
i have struggled with self esteem issues since highschool. i always felt like i was too big. i used to follow all these blogs of pretty people and try to copy their poses to feel pretty and i used to spend hours after school trying on short dresses and clothes to stare at my body in the mirror. i used to starve myself to the point of literally wanting to faint on the daily, until finally i admitted it to one of my teachers. she respectfully asked if i wanted to speak with the school guidance counsellor, and i declined. but she encouraged me to speak up to at least a friend, so i did, and it helped, and for a long time, i was okay. after i graduated that teacher still checked up on me for a few years every now and again.
4th year university was when i realized how much i had let myself go. i was the heaviest i had ever been, it was my graduating year, i was looking for a job and was always worried about my grades. every time i was stressed or every time i needed to study i bought pad thai and bubble tea. a ritual. i didnt realize how much that had caught up to me until i saw old pictures of myself. at this point, i started my (shitty) job, straight out of graduation.
i actively avoided scales, i didn’t like looking at the number because it just made me upset. and i already felt upset looking in the mirror, i didn’t need something else to make me upset. but i did. and i was 20 pounds heavier than i was in highschool - the heaviest i had ever been.
i cried.
i didnt do much about it. i was too busy. my first job out of uni was a brand new daycare and i was head teacher of a toddler class - also i was the only staff on floor since there were not as many kids. there was nobody to train me, at all. i had to teach myself everything. i had no time. 
a little while before starting the job, i met this guy. he was so hot, but such a dick - we had a “thing” but it was so toxic. he started off interested in me, but i turned him down. his attitude changed and he started being a douche, but we became friends because we were seeing each other so often. i didn’t have a car yet. he was driving me everywhere. he lived 5 minutes away. he was the type of friend that would text me “im outside, lets go out”. we hung out as friends at first, we would have “study dates”, until we started hooking up. we acted like a thing but he denied we were ever one - but got mad at me whenever i tried to look elsewhere. but i guess in that time, it was nice to be wanted, especially by someone so attractive. 
but again, a year in that shithole job went by fast. i would stay late after work. i would come in on weekends. i was expected to not only help new kids transition, but train new partners. and given that my supers refused to support me, i watched a lot of people quit due to pressure. i had to keep retraining. and kids kept coming. that never stopped. i can honestly say my class wasn’t settled until december, and i started in september. everyday it was ‘its fine, it will get better’. 
a year in that shithole, with 0 support, and i lost all the weight i gained - and more. i was the skinniest i had ever been. even in highschool. i looked at old pictures of myself from when i started the job at my heaviest. i couldnt believe that was me. and i was so happy looking at myself in the mirror. for once! 
after i quit that job, i started another job that i hoped would be a happy ending.
and it wasn’t. it stressed me out just as much. i also moved out by this point, a month after i started this job. my hours are whack. 7-9, 11:30-6. i woke up early and got home late. i never had free time. my last shift at my old job was 7-3:30 and i had the whole day to myself. im someone that needs social interaction and alone time, and by the time i got home i was so tired, i would just cook, clean, shower, and go to bed. and that was my life. sometimes i would get so tired that i couldn’t cook, i just went and ate out. i tried to make personal time with my friends after work but by the time i reached their house, it was late, and places were closed. and id have to leave early anyways because i had work early the next day... so fast food was the only way to make this work. on top of this, this was the most difficult class that i had ever had. the kids behaviours’ were so difficult and i couldn’t handle it. i would cry in my car 3x a week. i would cry 4 minutes before my shift starts in the washroom and walk out and pretend i was okay. i would have my boyfriend come over as much as i could just so i could cry in his arms. i couldnt leave this job because i had just moved out and having a consistent rent payment was a huge responsibility for me. as well, if you know anything about ECEs in canada, just know we make shit pay. but this job pays me better than most ECE jobs... by a landslide. AND gives me benefits, which is so hard to find. i am still at this job - i was at my breaking point at the time covid started, so i was rejoicing when we closed for covid. i havent worked since march, but i needed that time off so desperately. 
with that being said, i gained the weight back.
not everything, but i definitely could tell i was packing on some pounds.
cue covid.
i havent worked since march. i fell back into a lazy routine of ordering fast food. lying in bed. resting. just enjoying NOT dealing with my difficult class. 
but i gained it all back. and i think im back at my heaviest weight. i picked up all my summer clothes from last year from my moms... half of them dont fit me. my favourite pair of shorts won’t close. i just sat and cried in a mess of clothes on my floor in front of the mirror. this was last week.
im trying to tell myself, ‘you’re in the middle of a global pandemic, go easy on yourself’... but do you know what it’s like to finally get what you’re chasing, and have it be taken away from you? i finally had a taste of what it was like to look AND feel good about myself. something ive wanted since i was a teenager...and it’s gone. it’s my fault and i accept that, so please don’t tell me i did this to myself. i know i did. but i can still be upset about it. i look in the mirror and i try to suck my stomach in and pretend nothing changed but its not the same. i see old pictures of myself, especially that bikini pic. ironically, i captioned it “i will never have the confidence to take a bikini pic again”... and here we are. i look at the clothes i wore last year and remember how fucking good i felt wearing them. i try putting them back on and seeing my stomach bulging and my arms looking fat and my love handles, something i didn’t see last year. and i just take them off and opt to wear something frumpier that doesnt hug my figure.
i try to tell people about how i feel but i cant take those ‘love yourself and all your flaws’ campaigns seriously. i dont think i can listen to another ‘you have to just keep faking it until you make it and if u just tell urself ur beautiful u will feel beautiful!’
because if you’re me, you know you cant kid yourself. if you’re me you can’t ‘love every flaw’. you fixate on them. and you let them define you. and if youre me, flaws are all you see.
i hate myself for getting back to this point. 
i have a very supportive boyfriend that knows about all this, who is trying to actively get me to go on runs with him. we are trying to go for walks more and be out and about. he reminds me of little things, like if we are getting bubbletea he will suggest i go with less sugar. he is trying, we are trying. and i appreciate him so much.
today i complained in my car about this to my boyfriend, again. for the millionth time. and he still was supportive. but i just feel like i cant keep doing this to him. he said something today, which i think was him trying to give me a reality check to show me that i cant just wish i could starve myself and overwork myself to lose weight and call it a day... but it stung. he said “i don’t want to be with someone that’s not healthy. i have standards too” and i realized then he deserves so much better than to fucking babysit my complaining ass. i am 24. and i shouldnt be putting this on him. he is an adult with problems just as real as mine and i shouldnt be burdening him with this anymore. 
im scared to talk to him about how that comment made me feel, because he’s so right, and he has every right to leave me. i would honestly. the amount that i worry and fixate on all my flaws and complain and have crying breakdowns about this is not fucking normal. and it shouldnt be his problem. i just want him to be with someone that doesnt give him this baggage. he met me in my ‘prime’ days when i just started getting my skinny body last year. when we finally started dating, we were super sexually active. and i mean, having sex like 15 times a week. im not kidding. now we havent had sex in almost an entire month. i dont feel sexy anymore and its impacting my sex drive.. he tries to start it with me and i just can’t because i feel like he is probably repulsed by my body. this is a huge huge huge problem, seeing as sex was a huge part of our relationship (we are very emotionally in tune with one another, but sex was a great addon because we both love it so much). i hate the way i look without clothes on. i cant bring myself to do it because it makes me feel like shit about myself.
but we are moving in together next month. and that is a huge step. and i am worried that i will never change, and he’s going to feel like he’s stuck with me because he’s moving 40 minutes away from his hometown to live with me. i almost want us to break up so he can be with someone with less baggage but i also love him and i want to be better for him and for us. 
someone please help me. 
3 notes · View notes
cybernightwanderer · 4 years
Text
“ My Reiki and Yoga New Free Soul Brother - Once an abuser manipulative thieve , money driven leach “
Well thats a big tittle to describe one person entirely. So my ( midle ) brother across my kid years and then teenager developing to adult, my brother was an interesting person. For example, in school my brother would pretend he didnt know me , and if i even dared to aproach him he would shame me in front of everyone, even thought they already knew i was his sister, i was bullied a lot in school so at the start i tried a few times reaching out to him , specially because i didnt have any friends and id always be alone. This motherfucker who was already a teenager completly dismissed me , BUT would actually seek me out or talk to me when he needed lunch money because he already “ spent his”, funny enough hed get mine to eat coz he didnt wanna use his, and if i didnt gave him even though i hadnt eaten , he would guilty me badly , and being the kid that i was , my brother was everything to me , even tho he didnt gave a shit about me.
So in consequence i started drawing a distance line between me and him, at home id start to distance myself and ignore him. And he started getting like a really attention whore, hed always annoye me , and force me to hangout, and i didnt he would threaten me or do some shit at the house and blame me for it , because my mother at the tinniest shit at home would beat the crap out of me , so me being the little kid that i was tired of getting beatings for no random reason , id play along. My brother would literally antagonzie me and scare the shit out of me while so. Everytime my family went anywhere , for example the beach, id try to go to the water alone for some peace this motherfucker would sneak behind me and try to drown me as a joke , like every 5 minutes, id yell in panic and my mom wouldnt do shit, eventually id end up actually chocking on water and  hit my head on the sand and cry the rest of the time. So yeah FUN ! Did my mom do anything ? ofc no , “ hes just playing around “. I had BD collections that id buy with my lunch money that sometimes id save up, disney movie cassettes and so on. Sometimes id have snacks in my room to eat when studying or something. My brother, being a full grown ass teenager that he was , would steal everything without me even catching a glimpse of it. My brother would “ borrow “ things without asking then hide them because he wanted. I had two final fantasy collectible caracters that i spent my leftover bday money on, and my brother would take it as his own. Yes because whatever birthday money i got wether it be 50 euros or even 20 from my grandma or aunt, my mom would take it “ borrowed” for herself with no justification, shed always say “ Ah lend me i need it  / or / I always buy you clothes and everythings, i buy you food , you owe me this , thats the minimum you could do / “ or / she would just take it without me knowing , she would inspect my bday gifts and take it before hand , the problem is that my grandma or aunt would always after if i was gonna save it up and id ask what and they would question what i did with the money and i would ask what money and blah blah , you get where this is going.
OH and if i didnt give my money the money she would beat me up ! wich is funny asf. My brother literally sold all my things behind my back, my original BDS, MY FUCKING POISON IVY STORYLINE BD, my disney cassetes , my collectibles, and my snacks he would steal and eat. If i had saved up money hidden, first he would try to borrow it and guilty me with the “ im such a good brother to you , you cant even lend me money ? i will pay you back, trust me “ ... ofc he never payed me back , but every two weeks he woul do this shit. And if i by any chance didnt gave him , hed just steal, or sell my things, wich regardless of me lending him , he would do it anyway. Fast forward to my early teenage years, i had to start working , i quit school because we entered that internet deth with my moms company, wich my brother also contributed to but let the blame to me ofc, i was already the punch bag of the family what is one more thing. My brothers were always my moms “ babies “ even tho one was already a full grown ass man and the other was already on his way. My brother did nothing at home , didnt take the dog outside, didnt take out the trash, didnt make food, didnt wash the dishes, didnt clean the house, basicly sit on his ass all day playing video games and eating, and selling my shit for money. My brother was unemployed for 3/4 years in between those i studied and worked at the same time , and did all the house chores, even if i had to walk the dog as 2/3 am after work i would have to, even tho my brother was in bed all day. My mom would literally yell at me and make my life a living hell and threaten to hit me if i didnt do it or even dared to complain. I would get home trying to study , trying to recorver at school ,and she would yell non stop until i didn every house chore, wich i would only manage to finish at midnight or later, and then id be too tired and unmotivated to do anything so id just sleep, and id always get late to class thanks to that. When my brothers started working, it was at my dads wearehouse, where i was forced to work too. Id work 8 to 10 hours , sometimes more, because we got payed by publicity stock packs, each pack was worth 1 euro, wich also 1 pack took 1 hour and 15/20 minutes to make. So if i wanted to make the day worth anything i had to rush , no eating breaks or pee breakes. My hands at the end of the day would literally be filled with newspaper and printed paper ink and dirk, and tons of cuts and sores , that would be leeched in paper ink, wich make it hurt even more at the end of the day, and was really hard to take it out. My brother would take breaks every 30 minutes to smoke , be on his phone or even go to bathroom or eat randomly, i wouldnt stop the 8 hours straight, and when i actually had to go to the bathroom or eat something because id get sick, my brother literally stole packs from me, or try to “ negociate my help for X “, the thing about my brother is that hed always try to negociate something , ofc it was always entangled for his own benefit and not both.
So it was like this my brother came up to me all excited and say “ oh if you do this to help me , ill split the profit that way we will make more and will be less exausting “ stupid like i was id always give in, specially because if i didnt  hed steal anyway.... Hed always change his methods and works, and guilty me if i didnt do it, so id always have to do so. If i didnt hed just change the pack registration list either way, without me even seeing it, and fake my signature, i only found out we had to sign an official paper a few months later when my dad asked, before that my brother would always tell me to note them on my phone then send the numbers by the end of the week, and since he was the bosses son , every one backed up that story ofc.  Eventually when i started to get older , i cut ties with my brothers and dad. And my ( midle ) brother was constantly trying to reach out and play nice and shit , also he was still working at the wearhouse . Anyway , fast forward when i got unemployed after the 5 star hotel due to rape attent and shit like that, i was unemplyoyed for 4 moths?! My brother tried to reach out , and even came home before my mother to try and persuade me to enter one of his schemes, i explained to my brother that i didnt have any money and that i wouldnt believe anymore of his stupid schemes and blah blah. He swore he was only trying to make up to me , and the plan was , i would pretend to work at my dads  wearehouse, but i would just be there 2 times a week and he would give me a cut of the protfit, coz if he didnt want my dad to hire some random slow guy, so he set up to do a two persons work, and give me 30 % of the monthy rate and all i had to do is show up a few times for my dad to see i was there, and then go home. That motherfucker insisted for 3 days straight promissing it wasnt a scheme and that he was serious this time. OBVIOUSLY THAT DIDNT HAPPEN OBVIOUSLY- with the last 10 euros i had, i bought train tickers to the wearhouse, the first week he actually stick to his word, a few days later the shit started, he actualy forced me to deliver shit and stuff. Wich for me was really difficult because its when i started to develop hernias, and the pain was too overwhealming, and that fucker didnt care and still forced me to, eventually i told him i was out , and found out he still used my name in his shit plan  and pretended i was still working there to my dad for two whole months , and then begged me to lie to my dad on the phone, hed literally call me before my dad trying to get me to lie, and promissing the money, and hed ask my mom to pressure my to help him. What could i do??!! what happend after you may ask? did my brother gave me the money? OFC NO ! NO! He gave me 115 euros of the cut , and he made 996 euros to himself. And told me it was only for the days “ i actually worked “  NEVER IN MY LIFE  I VERBALLY EVER SAID TO ANYONE , FAMILY OR NOT  “ I hope you die, you are shit , you are nothing to me , seriously i hope you die “ and acually meant it and wished it. For the first time in my life i actually wished so hard for my brother to just die. I was done, i was officialy done , i had never been so done with someone. I was officialy done with my family. I blocked my dad on everything, i told my dad to fuck off. I told my older brother to fuck off. I told my middle brother to go die. And the last person was my dying grandma who was a snob ass piece of shit who only gave a shit about me when i was a little girl ( because its only cute when they r kids  ), to stop trying to call me and told her to just go and die. She literally sent me a voice message of 5 minutes crying beggin me to see her, and i just told her to go and die, its not because she is dying that is gonna erase the fact that she didnt gave a shit about me after i actually grown. And the fact that i did this apparently scared the shit out my dad and brothes, specially because i did it so naturally. AND TO THIS DAY I DONT REGRET WHAT I SAID AND I STILL DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT HER. OH AND PLOT TWIST SHES NOT DEAD NOR WAS SHE DYING, LAST YEAR SHE TRIED TO SCHEME MONEY OUT OF MY MOM, AND BEFORE THAT SHE WOULD ALWAYS TREAT MY MOM LIKE SHIT AN CALL HER NAMES, FUNNY ! Now they try to sneak into my life really AGAIN ... ffs Since the end of last year, apparently my brother turned into reiki and yoga and shit and is now driving a motivational fuck page for people who wanna “ grow spiritually and open the third eye “ and is trying to reconnect with me again, obviously i cut him off before he could even talk to me. So he spent 3 months or so , coming here and trying, and since he didnt get anything since january and february hes trying to manipulate me behind my mother, my mother is venting to my brother about me being closed off to them , and my brother is DIAGNOSING ME AS A PROBLEM, BECAUSE HE IS SO WISE AND ENLIGHTED... WTF??? diagnosing me??? ur not a fucking therapist you asshole ! The other day i heard him tell my mother in the living room , that “ SHE CANT LIVE LIKE THIS ITS VERY TOXIC FOR HER, SHE HAS TO TALK TO YOU AND BE A BETTER SISTER AND DAUGHTER SHE NEEDS TO BLAH BLAH YOU NEED TO KICK HER OUT IF SHE IS LIVING OFF YOU  “ WHAT THE FUCK?? im living off my mother?? the woman that forced me to give her more than half of my paycheck, thats doesnt give me privacy or respect and that literally threatned me if i ever tried to leave that she would chase me down???????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OR SEND ME TO A MENTAL HOSPITAL????!!!! ... My older brother is doing the same, keeps trying to get me to go visit his kid, and to meet his kid, keeps trying to get my mother to see pictures of the kid or to call them. They keep trying to guilty me “ oh you cant take it out on the kid, its not the kids fault , he needs to know his aunt, you are his family “ BITCH FAMILY?????? FAMILY??? family doesnt mean shit. Yesterday even sent photos of his kid trought a new number LOL. I actually did went to the kids birthday, first time a few months ago, and guess what , my brother still the NO ONE ASKED- OPINIONATED asshole he was about my whole life, he literally takes one glimpse of me and judges my whole life and starts yelling shit at me ...ofc thats not gonna happend again. People dont change. People. dont. change. PEOPLE DONT CHANGE ! BITCH ?? WHAT? WHO THE FCK?? HOW THE FUCK??? In conclusion my brother is still the same piece of shit he was , and now even more narcisistic, and manipulative, he cant get what he wants from me , so now hes resourting to my mother again. I NEED TO LEAVE THIS HOUSE, I NEED TO LEAVE THIS FAMILY OMFG. Funny enough he does this shit then tries to get me to go to his house to celebrate his birthday because he “ MISSES ME AND THE OLD DAYS” ???? OLD DAYS OF YOU MENTALY ABUSING ME ? NOT TO MENTION THAT YOU ALMOST BROKE MY ARM BECAUSE I WOULDNT LEND YOU MY COMPUTER 3 YEARS AGO????? my mom literally told him we were gonna go there without even asking me if i wanted or even if i was gonna go. LOL, shes trying to emotionally manipulate me with older pictures of me and him , and games we would play together LOL. OMFG PLEASE SOME ONE, I DONT EVEN KNOW I NEED TO DIE OMFG... I CANT TAKE THIS FAMILY ANYMORE.
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
missmentelle · 5 years
Note
What is BPD and how does it manifest? What are your personal experiences with it and what are the misconceptions?
Borderline Personality Disorder is a mental health condition that severely disrupts your ability to form stable and healthy attachments to others, and to form a stable and healthy sense of yourself. It usually develops for the first time in your late teens or early 20s, and it can last for the rest of your life, although many people with BPD are able to successfully control their symptoms or even achieve full remission if they seek mental health treatment. BPD can be a brutal disorder to live with, and the symptoms can seriously impact your day-to-day functioning. People with BPD may find it incredibly difficult to achieve their goals or lead a “normal” life. Unlike people with other personality disorders that affect relationships, people with BPD desperately want to have healthy relationships with other people, but their symptoms make this incredibly difficult to achieve, which is a constant source of frustration and shame for many people who have this disorder. Symptoms of BPD include:
Intense and near-irrational fear of abandonment. They live with constant fear that the people in their lives will abandon them, even if there are absolutely no signs that this is the case. They will go to extreme lengths to avoid being abandoned, even if the risk of abandonment is entirely imaginary. 
Relationships that are very intense, and very unstable. They tend to engage in a pattern called “splitting”, where they see someone as wonderful and flawless and perfect in one moment, and then see them as worthless, unreliable and untrustworthy the next. They either have you on a pedestal or they are convinced that you hate them, with very little time spent between those two extremes. 
Frequent mood swings. This is more than just the usual “up and down” of something like bipolar disorder - they swing between a wide range of emotions like shame, disgust, euphoria, despair, rage and everything in between. 
Disproportionate emotional reactions. People with BPD have more or less the “correct” emotional reaction to events in their lives, but the intensity of their emotional reaction is completely blown out of proportion. A neurotypical person might be mildly annoyed if their partner forgot to text them when they promised to. A person with BPD may lapse into full-blown rage and despair, and these intense feelings could last for hours or days. Anger is the most common emotion that they experience with added intensity, and it can even cause harmless interactions to quickly escalate. 
Reckless behaviour. People with BPD often partake in high-risk behaviour, like drug use, unprotected sex, gambling, spending sprees, or unsafe and reckless driving. They also have a tendency to self-sabotage - sometimes when things are going well in their lives, they will suddenly quit their jobs, drop out of school and break up with their partners with absolutely no warning. 
An unstable sense of their own identity. This is hard to explain to someone who doesn’t experience it, but most people have a pretty stable sense of who they are, what they value, what they want, what their goals are, etc. People who BPD do not have any stable answers for any of those things. Their sense of “self” shifts rapidly and often. They may completely change their entire image of themselves from day to day, or go through periods where they even doubt if they exist. 
Self-harm and suicidal behaviour. People with BPD frequently self-harm, and they have one of the highest suicide rates of any disorder. Their self-harm is usually triggered by a real or imagined abandonment or rejection, and it can be extremely difficult to manage. 
A general sense of emptiness. People with BPD often feel that their lives are meaningless, or that they will never be happy. They might feel like nothing matters, or that they are bad, worthless people who do not deserve to be happy. 
BPD is a very tricky disorder to cope with, especially when it comes to relationships. It is important to remember that people with BPD are not bad people, and it is not their fault that they have this disorder. Many of the behaviours they exhibit are the result of all the pain and distress that they are feeling, not because they have any malicious intent. Many of them are simply desperate to be loved, and their extreme emotions are what prevent them from achieving this in a healthy way. At the same time, though, it’s important to acknowledge that people with BPD can cause serious harm to people they form relationships with, and the pain that their friends, family members and partners feel is just as real and just as valid. People with BPD are sometimes the perpetrators of abuse (as well as the victims), and it’s naive to think that a potential partner can overcome these issues through love and patience alone. The symptoms are aggravating to deal with as a person with BPD actually experiencing them, and they can be exhausting or terrifying to deal with as the partner of a person who has BPD. A diagnosis of BPD is not an excuse to treat others badly, and people with this disorder are still responsible for recognizing when they need to seek help, or when they might need to take a break from relationships as a whole. 
I’ve had numerous experiences with BPD in my lifetime. I’ve worked with it as a mental health professional; many of the homeless kids I worked with met the criteria for BPD, and for many of them, BPD was at least contributing to their ongoing homelessness. Some had burned bridges with family members or professional organizations that could help them, due to their erratic or intense behaviour. Many had experimented broadly with drug use, reckless behaviour or casual sex, and had faced life-altering consequences - like drug dependency, criminal records or unwanted pregnancies - as a result. Many of them were caught up in very intense and very unhealthy romantic relationships, and they were unable to work on other aspects of their life (finishing school, finding housing, finding employment, etc) because all of their time and energy was devoted to their high-needs relationships. It’s hard to get someone to sit down and work on their math homework when they feel an intense need to comb through their partner’s instagram for any signs of cheating. It can be a very tricky disorder to deal with as a professional, because you are no exception to the person’s fear of abandonment or their intense relationship style - it can be more difficult to form consistent trust and rapport with BPD clients than it is with other clients, which makes treatment difficult. 
I also have a lot of hands-on experience with BPD in my personal life. I lived with a partner who had BPD for two years, although he only received his official diagnosis after we had already ceased living together. We got together as teenagers, and as far as I can tell, he developed BPD in his early 20s, around two years after we met. My ex refused all forms of mental health treatment, and living with a person who had untreated Borderline Personality Disorder was one of the most exhausting and difficult experiences of my life. He had the classic “splitting” pattern; much of the time, he had me up on a pedestal, and he would boldly tell me and other people that I was the most perfect person who ever lived, that I was the answer to all of his problems, and that he never needed anything or anyone else in the world as long as he had me. Other days, he would tell me that I never cared about him, that he would never be good enough for me, and that I secretly wanted to leave him. We had some happy days, hanging out and just being best friends who were madly in love with each other, but as his disorder really took hold, the extremes became much more common. His behaviour became reckless and erratic, and he started leaving our apartment at night to break into nearby abandoned buildings and construction site. He never developed any anger problems, but he became despondent, and started spending entire days sobbing on the couch and contemplating suicide. His goals and view of himself changed weekly - some weeks he saw himself as smart and studious, and some weeks he saw himself as being doomed to homelessness. I cared about him very, very much, but I could not live like that anymore. He was not a bad person and his situation was not his fault - although it was his responsibility to accept help, which he failed to do - but he was not good for my own mental health. No one is obligated to stay in such a tumultuous and unstable relationship, and unfortunately it reached a point where I could not do it anymore. 
Unfortunately, my current partner and I are also dealing with a situation with BPD at the moment. In this case, however, he has an ex-partner with BPD who cannot accept that their relationship is over. Every couple of weeks she calls him in the middle of the night, sometimes to declare that he is the most wonderful person she ever met and insist that they were meant to be together. Other times, she calls to tell him that he is a terrible person who never cared about her or respected her, and she informs him that she is in the middle of self-harming because of him. We both acknowledge that she is a deeply troubled individual, and neither of us have any ill will toward her. He informs her family every time she calls, and I have no issues with him picking up the phone to talk to her in the middle of the night if it means that someone can be made aware of her in-progress self-harm. Again, she is not a bad person and her issues are not of her own making. Her case happens to be particularly extreme - most people with BPD do not even approach this level of inappropriate behaviour - but I cannot deny that it is a source of distress in my life. 
There are two big misconceptions about BPD that I think should be dispelled. The first is the notion that BPD is a “female” problem. While it is true that female diagnoses of BPD outnumber male diagnoses considerably, there are probably a lot of social biases at play. A man who has intense relationships in his early 20s and copes by doing drugs, sleeping around and driving fast is seen as “normal”, or “just blowing off steam”. A woman who behaves the same way is considered mentally ill. Men who present with characteristic symptoms of BPD may instead receive a diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder, depression or anxiety, due to the notion that BPD is only a female problem. Women who have symptoms of Bipolar Disorder, depression or anxiety may be diagnosed with BPD. People tend to see what they expect to see, and many clinicians expect to see lots of women with BPD. 
The other misconception I want to dispel is that idea that BPD never gets better. It is the most treatable of the personality disorders, and most people with the condition see at least some improvement after their mid- to late twenties. Therapy and medication can help treat the symptoms to make life and relationships more manageable, and people with BPD who receive proper treatment can even achieve full remission of their disorder. This is a difficult disorder, but it is not a life sentence, and it should never be assumed that people who have this disorder are going to be this way forever. Hope and treatment are out there. 
Hope this answers your question! 
87 notes · View notes
agameoftragedy · 5 years
Text
Writing (and being) people with mental difficulties
I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I don’t know how well I’m going to be able to express it, given that that’s part of the whole problem. I myself have developed what seems to be increasing mental difficulties, which makes it harder to explain what you experience to people who don’t know or see.
One of the first things to qualify is that naturally everyone’s experiences will be slightly different anyway; the brain is even more complex than the body and there’s still aspects to it that we don’t understand, but you can certainly read about examples of people who have obviously sustained brain damage to a specific area of the brain and the repercussions of that depending on the area. But, when it’s not so apparent what area is struggling or affected, or if it seems to be somewhat all-encompassing...!
The other thing is, I myself don’t know how you would write somebody who has had severe learning difficulties from birth (Lollys Stokeworth from ASOIAF for example) in the first person. Again, part of why this can be so difficult is because if (some parts of) the brain are that bad it can render you incapable of explaining your experiences to other people in a way they can understand. And if they can’t tell us, it’s left to everyone else to imagine (and make mistakes).
So, bit of background on me, I used to be shy but pretty cogent even face-to-face, and was generally good at expressing myself. I was top of my class in several subjects as a kid (and then went to a school for ‘smarter’ kids as a teenager so I wasn’t so special), went to uni, etc. It’s not 100% clear what’s gone wrong with my body since my early 20s, but it’s certainly neurological as well as physical, and honestly the neurological problems I have are way more troublesome than the pain and physical fatigue. They can’t seem to pin down the problem, but when I had MRI/CT of my head a couple years ago there was apparently nothing evident (though those don’t show everything...).
So, down to business:
- My brain is crap. Now, I know this, because I have also experienced my brain working how it used to, and now it is complete trash in comparison. If you are or are writing somebody who has had trouble from birth, they may not have any such feelings because they don’t know how it feels to have a brain that works differently anyway, except perhaps observing that other people can do things they couldn’t.
- How bad a problem this is varies massively. I was very cerebral and that was used a lot in my hobbies, so it prevents me doing things I love(d). If your character wasn’t like that anyway, it may not bother them as much. If your character has always been this way, everything they do probably already fits with their abilities. It can also literally vary from day to day, one day you’re kinda forgetful and the next you can barely string a sentence together, good days and bad days.
- You still have a personality. In fact, this is probably part of what is interesting, the way personality filters through these problems. Sometimes it can actually make you differentiate yourself more - I was quite shy and reserved, keep my thoughts to myself, but my emotional regulation is faultier now and I’m more likely to just say the thing and/or show how I’m feeling. I like to think I’m nice, and it means I get cuddlier and compliment people, but if your character was an asshole under wraps they could now be more overt about it (or contrast with another character who’s just as bad but covers it up).
- It can mess with your moods. I used to be prone to anxiety, constantly caught up in my thoughts, but that’s often way too much work for my brain now and I find myself more able to just like look at some pretty flowers like ‘ooooh’ with nothing more going on underneath, so I can be kind of happier. On the other hand though...
- It depends on your environment and how you’re treated. Because I’m struggling enough as it is, I’m prone to frustration of anything making my life any harder. I can be happy as a clam in my own little environment I’ve developed, but when you go out into a generally unaccommodating and judgemental world, it makes everything harder. It would be presumptuous to say that it’s worse, but I know I especially suffer as somebody who knows how things could be, because I remember that I used to be able to do these things and I also know how some able people talk and think about (mentally) disabled people when they’re not around.
- If you haven’t always been like this, adjusting is hard, especially if you can remember before (and have a questionable short term memory). To start with it’s hard to remember that you might struggle to do something (because you used to be able to), and then it’s hard to deal with the emotional pain of realising how bad you are in comparison (especially if you have little to no hope of regaining that ability).
- People can be shit and it’s hard to help that. This can often include doctors. In my experience it’s a little like being a child again; I know my judgement can be iffy at times now and I kind of need somebody keeping an eye on me, but it’s trying to get a balance between that and people ignoring and dismissing what you want and say entirely (assuming you can even express it adequately). You can keep your autonomy if you don’t admit you have this problem, but that leaves you in potential danger (from yourself) and gets you no help at all. For me I luckily have a couple of very understanding and supportive people in my life, but without those... I have deep concerns for people, as with neurodivergent kids whose parents don’t take their issues seriously.
- Trouble ‘thinking’ may well not be your only issue. I get a lot of headaches, and ‘episodes’ (there is a lot of discourse over whether they count as seizures) where basically I collapse and can’t move but am still conscious, ocular migraines, tinnitus... You can sprinkle various neurological symptoms really, depending on how a character acquired their difficulties.
- Comparing adult people with difficulties to children is controversial, though I can see some similarities at times in cases like mine. I’d certainly say that if somebody acquired their difficulties as an adult, I’d avoid this - if they were a sexual person before there’s probably still some level of that, they probably don’t insta-child, and there’ll probably be times where they still feel like they’re basically the person they were (until reminded of what’s changed when they try too much).
~~~~~~~~~~~~
This post is unfinished but I’m honestly not certain if I’ll be able to do so. I seizured at this point and have no idea what else I was going to say when I was writing it. If anyone else has input or questions, I’ll receive them happily.
3 notes · View notes
tzigone · 5 years
Text
Favorite characterization of Dick Grayson
What's your favorite era or writer for Dick Grayson?  What characterizations do you like or dislike?
Here are my opinions.  I may ramble a bit. Sorry about that. 
You can skip this paragraph if you don't care how I ended up here and which comics I’ve read  - it's not particularly important, I just wanted to share.  First, while previously having seen on-screen versions of Dick Grayson, and read a bit of DickBabs fanfic (Batman: TAS sold me on them before the show went directions I loathe), I never actually read any issues of DC until 2015ish.  Had been a Marvel girl because they didn't do reboots, but then they destroyed Peter Parker's marriage and rebooted the universe, so I abandoned comics for a while.  But then I saw some reruns of Young Justice cartoon.  So I read some fic.  Many fics incorporated comic characters.  There I discovered Spoiler, who I really liked the idea of as Spoiler (someone who works against Batman's wishes and doesn't obey his orders and refused to back down, but isn’t a killer).  So I read the Robin series for the first 100+ issues (quitting when I knew War Games was near because the storyline sounded bad).  But that made me decide to read the Nightwing comic that stared in that era.  Really liked that, and really liked Dick Grayson (on-screen portrayals had already lead me to favor him).  Then Birds of Prey, Dixon-era, too.  Then, because I liked Dick, the Original and New Teen Titans. Original was too Silver Age for me, but really enjoyed 1980-1986ish New Teen Titans (thought it went downhill after that, and abandoned when I reached 1990 issues).  Also read assorted Golden, Silver, and Bronze Age comics.  So I have relatively broad, but very shallow knowledge of most Bat-eras, with more in-depth knowledge of the '90s and much less of post-2000 (mostly fic, which isn't always representative of the comic).
While I have opinions on various Bat and non-Bat characters and storylines, I'm starting with Dick here. He was my favorite. It's so dependent on writing (as is ever character), and right now he’s Ric, and that is something I’m not interested in. 
While I absolutely like aspects from other eras, and I dislike some aspects from these eras, my favorite time periods for Dick are probably 1980-1986ish and 1996-2000.  There’s some good 70s stuff and I like certain dynamics of him as guardian/mentor to Damian (and some stuff with other family), but as whole, these two eras in his titles (Teen Titans and Nightwing) are my favorites.  For his characterization as stand-alone (rather than his relationships with other characters).
Golden and silver age Dick merit a bit less discussion. Characters weren’t as distinct from each other back then.  Nor, really, as consistent.  But Dick was sometimes regarded as quite a mature young man in the golden age.  Responsible, good grades, intelligent, etc.  But so was Speedy - like I said, not much distinction.  Despite some impressions, in the stories I read I did not notice Robin to make lots of puns or be unusually cheery and smiley.
Come to the mid-60s and Dick was so much a teenager. I mean the original Teen Titans fairly scream with it early on (so much slang, really folks). One writer I didn’t like had him behave like an idiot (I’m not the only one who thought so, judging by the letters pages, though opinions were split).  Really, though, in the early original Teen Titans it felt like writer(s) were trying to push the “teen” thing too much, and they sometimes came off like caricatures.  But it was a time in comics when stories and characterizations were shifting and there were, IMO, both failures and successes in trying to embrace new and different.
The ‘70s were okay. Some bits I liked, and some I didn‘t. Dick is usually responsible in Detective Comics stories. He did a little bit of playing the play-boy (with Silver), which isn’t my speed, since I like the idea that Dick, unlike Bruce, doesn’t put on a facade in day-to-day life.  Had a few girlfriends - very normal and not either stunningly celibate or shockingly promiscuous. Though the entire 70s was one year of college for Dick.
I am not at all fond of the "goofy" Dick that seems to have popped up fairly often in the past 20 years.  They often seemed to have seriously dampened his brainpower and detective skills (because Tim is the smart one and the detective and for some reason they can’t both be that).  I’m not a fan of separate out all Batman’s skills and assigning one to each Robin. It makes the Robins all less than Batman and inferior to him and sets that they will never be his equals and that I do not agree with. Now this is by no means a *consistent* thing, but it does happen, and it does irritate me.  I don’t like seeing characters diminished.
I really love old-school Dick.  Back when he was young (late '70s to mid '80s), they showed us how mature he was (probably to contrast his youth and make him a viable peer to older heroes).  Both Wally and Roy commented on it. Roy said how he always felt so much younger (issue where he got custody of Lian).  Wally though Dick was always on top of things (Kory and Donna knew better).  Heck, Terry's (Donna's ex) bachelor party was another fine example how much more of an adult he was than some men twice his age.  He was pretty cerebral, a fantastic detective, a good fighter, etc.  He could hang out and have fun, too, of course. He wasn't a stick-in-the-mud.  He was too closed off and unwilling to talk sometimes (moreso with his team, and perhaps because he thought he needed to project confidence as a leader?).  He was, in a reverse, quite willing to talk about other people's emotional issues.   Sometimes as a friend, and sometimes as a leader.  He behaved most immaturely when dealing with Batman, particularly as their relationship became more difficult - there were times when they brought out the worst in each other. Though it wasn't steady, of course.
We really got to see Dick as a leader in this era. Someone people respected and looked up to.  Not that his team always agreed with him or that he was always right, but that but that he was a person that people did have trust in. And that he usually did a good job of deserving it.  It’s not just other teenagers, though, but the older heroes respect him as well.  It’s also the first time we a real, substantive romance - with Kory.  Saw where he floundered and how he loved, and such.  Which I thought worked well until it reached a point where I thought it needed to end, and it didn’t (or rather it did end, but didn’t stay ended).  Readers who like the ship, though, will likely have a different perspective, if they are like me (I just blame the writing when this sort of thing happens with ships I prefer).
Batman: Year Three - not the best story.  I don't remember most of it, to be honest.  But one thing I really liked was the highlighted difference between Bruce and Dick.  It hits that Dick is more emotionally healthy than Bruce. That Dick had the emotional support Bruce lacked as a child (I don't think continuity had yet settled on the idea of Alfred as a father-figure to Bruce).  That could segue me into changes in Bruce's backstory and characterization, but I'll refrain.  I will say that I preferred Dick with the nice-nuns orphanage to Dick-in-juvenile-facility (though I really, really like Dixon's run on Nightwing).  It makes Bruce less of a "rescuer" of Dick, which I prefer. I do not like the idea that Dick was doomed to end up dead on street (or a criminal) if not for Bruce.  Though I admit to preferring old-school Dick-goes-directly-to-Bruce's-home, no matter how unrealistic.  I dislike the entire Talon thing even more. I hate the back-projecting of more angst and more terrible things, like his parents being murdered wasn't bad enough.
Now we come to Nightwing series. I  really liked Dixon's run.  I'm a DickBabs fan, so seeing them get together was great.  I did read he wanted Dick/Donna, and I'm glad that didn't happen.  Partially because I'm a DickBabs fan, but also because I really, really liked the platonic friendship between Dick and Donna during the New Titans.  And I liked that it was platonic and that a friendship - rather than romance - could be so very important.  I don't think friendships get near the credit they should as important relationships in fiction, and so often fans want them to be romantic.  And the older I get, the more I value good fictional friendships and sibling relationships and so on.  For the record, I also really liked the Vic/Gar friendship. And I still tend to think of Donna, rather than Wally as Dick's BFF. Though he has many friends.
Anyway, I really liked seeing Dick working on his own and having his own city.   He was finding his own path and his rogues were being developed. I liked the idea of him as a cop, and I enjoyed Amy. I liked a lot of his banter with Barbara. But not just the banter, the serious stuff. Dick was looking for a real, long-term, serious relationship.  And Barbara was the hesitant one - for understandable reasons.   It's an everyday reminder of the things they used to do together.  Things he can do that she no longer can.  And she really wants to.
Of course, in this era, he was totally a big brother to Tim, a relationship he never really had with Jason (post-crisis).  Now, Bruce's character was becoming worse and worse in this era, so that provided some conflict for Dick.  Early in the series, Bruce wasn't that bad yet, and he and Dick had some nice bonding/reconciling moments.  And so some of the issues were just on Dick's side.  He has, since at least the Titans days, had a persistent need to prove himself Batman's equal.  To others and to Batman. I was kinda peeved with Donna when she said he'd never be as good. He thinks Bruce thinks less of him on occasions when Bruce doesn't. But Bruce still treats him like an underling a good portion of the time.  He expects Dick to take orders with no questions and doesn't give him full details of plans and doesn't listen to his opinions or consider Dick's needs.  Way too often, Bruce just puts his goal ahead of everyone else.  That's an issue with Bruce.  But Dick feels like it's Bruce not seeing him as equal.  Which it is, IMO, but mostly in the sense that Bruce tends to put himself/his goal above all others in terms of importance (a problem that has only gotten worse with time).
I wasn't real fond back-projection/retconning of the Dick/Babs relationship over the years. Or her de-aging.  I like her at least 4 years older than Dick.  With no involvement when he was in highschool.  Flirtation when he was in college (1970s Batman family issues), sure, but nothing really happening until he's in Bludhaven and in his mid 20s and the 5-7 year age gap doesn't matter because they're both adults.  I much prefer her pre-crisis background with Batman to the post-crisis one, but that's a topic for my post on her.
Then the Devin Grayson era - I don't agree with all the positions of the author, but I do agree about Devin Grayson: http://theflyingwonder.tumblr.com/post/107703923021/you-made-me-curious-and-i-couldnt-resist-it-tell and I think way too many of her aspects stuck with the character.  Which I guess makes her a success, but doesn't work for me at all, because I don't like the character she describes at all and he is not Dick to me. I've read her interview on Dick Grayson and her perception of the character was just nothing like mine. She acts like he's not a thinker (even though got called too cerebral in the old days).  She acts like Dick either "fights or fucks" everyone he meets, and totally disregards so many other types of relationships. Now, the Mirage-rape had already happened (and was horribly handled), plus the Raven-mind-controllish thing (also didn't work for me), but Grayson made Dick the sleeps-around type.  That was specifically contradictory to earlier characterizations where Dick was the committed-relationship type - something he actually discussed with Roy at one point.  I liked Dick being a relationship-only guy, it was a big contrast with Bruce (particularly post-Crisis Bruce).  I don't like Dick being Batman-lite at all.  
Not Devin Grayson, but Nightwing Annual #2 - ghastly. So incredibly out of character for who Dick was back then.   Another not-my-review at http://theflyingwonder.tumblr.com/post/93534635531/can-you-explain-the-nightwing-annual-2-thing. Though I would go further in that it's  reason I don't like post-Kory’s-political-wedding Dick/Kory.  It felt like a lot of build up to "love isn't enough" and then he basically chunked his beliefs to stay with her, which makes the relationship a bad thing to me. Here's my less-well-worded thoughts when I read the wedding. http://tzigone.tumblr.com/post/170389768364/nightwing-and-starfire
So, Dick's life in Bludhaven was destroyed.  His life as independent hero was destroyed.  I enjoyed Dick with the Titans, but him in Gotham is a no-go to me.  Because he goes back to being an appendage of Bruce.  He's working in someone else's city, he's a subordinate (at least with Bruce is actually there).
I haven't read as much of the Dick/Damian relationship as I maybe should have.  While interested in their dynamic, I'm not keen on Dick's wider characterization.  I do not like lothario-Dick.  And I do not like Batman-lite Dick.  So I deeply disliked him taking Robin from Tim and giving it away without discussing it, just like Bruce did to him.   Yeah.  To top that off, I unlike many, did not like the first 12 issues of Red Robin, so there wasn't even pay-off.  And then later we'd get Dick faking his death and hurting his family for the sake of the mission (Batman's mission).  Too Batman-like. I do get incredibly frustrated with that no matter how badly he treats them, Bruce's "kids" keep coming back and following his orders.  I didn't like his non-masked storyline, in N52, either. Sadly, at least Barbara (who I don’t like being a student of Bruce’s), Dick, and Tim have all adopted some of Bruce’s worse traits in regards to secrets and manipulation at one point or another.
But my biggest thing is that Dick all to often (not always, but even once is too often) gets treated like a joke. He's the lovable brother, and that part is okay. But he's all cuddles and cartoons and Disney and most of his maturity is just gone.  This is heavy in fic, but it's present in the comics, too.  At 19 he was man, and now he's a man-child. Not when he's working, I mean, but in personal life.  Lex Luthor says he's not a big thinker and some people agree. And that is just totally wrong to me.  For me Dick, while far from perfect, is a person that has earned and has respect not only from his peers, but from the first-generation heroes.  And it just gets worse later.  Late Pre-Crisis they de-age him and he's 21 in N52 (when it starts anyway). And I hated his de-aging, and Barbara's.  It feels like they're being drug backwards and not allowed to grow up. Even though Barbara *started* grown up and Dick had pretty much been a man even during his endless year at Hudson.  I don't like the idea of Dick as someone people don't take seriously. Bart or Booster, maybe is someone villains don't take seriously, but should. But Dick, at least as he reaches his adult years, should be someone that people (villains and colleagues) do take seriously and respect.  Thought without the intimidation Batman has, at least with criminals.  I will say I do think it was done partially to keep Batman from getting too old to do the job, but I still don’t care for it.
Don’t get me started on Dick and what he thought was Bruce’s body and the Lazarus pit.
I thought the entire issue with Dick and Bruce after Bruce’s failed wedding was bad.  Dick tries to be the goofball. They try to redeem it at the end, but it falls flat because he was stupid enough to think it would help in the first place.
Some people seem to think it's the sweetest thing ever if Dick moves back to Gotham and lives in the manor and Bruce takes care of him, and that's just a no-go to me.  It's infantilizing. He's grown up and should be allowed to grow up.  I see a lot of infantilizing of Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian.  I get why it's done (to see Bruce the dad), but dislike it intensely.  It's demeaning to me. I like Bruce the dad, too. But he can be a dad to adult children and treat them like adults (well, the grown ones). And yes, like equals, but that it what I think the relationship between adult parents and children should be.  Though it’ll be a long time before Bruce gets to a point where he’ll consistently do that.
Side note: the comments on Dick's body get a little old.  I totally get that he's stunning.  I'm cool with Kory or Barbara or his current girlfriend enjoying his body or complimenting him on it.  But sometimes it seems like various characters (usually female) are discussing him like a piece of meat. Particularly frustrating when his hero colleagues do so.  I know a good bit of this comes with me binge-reading, making it seem more often than when issues are read a month apart.
11 notes · View notes
Oh boy one of these again
“Even though both of these characters are awesome, fans can’t help but argue among themselves, so the question is simple: Who makes the better Spider-Man? Is it the new kid on the block who is winning new fans over left and right, or is it the classic Spidey that basically started it all?”
 It’s Peter.
 This isn’t even a debate.
 One character is literally trying to be a replication of the other but throwing in some zigs where they zagged, whilst the other is the thing being replicated that also revolutionized comic books forever.
 “As always, the answer to this question is: “it depends.” ”
 Yes. It depends if you are a moronic clickbait author or not.
 Do most Miles Morales fans even honestly argue that Miles is the best Spider-Man as opposed to just...great in his own way?
 Like I’m pretty sure most Ben Reilly and Sam Wilson fans don’t try to honestly assert those guys are better than Peter or Steve.
 “How do you even begin to measure something like this? ”
 Who has had the biggest impact on the medium.
 Who was most original.
  Who has the most acclaimed stories.
  Who has had the most comparatively unconvoluted narrative.
 Who’s stories stick closest to the fundamental guiding ideas behind the core concept of Spider-Man and execute that the best.
 Mystery solved.
     20. MILES: BETTER ORIGIN
  “The Peter Parker Spider-Man has an origin story that is downright iconic. There’s no denying that. However, if we’re being honest, then Miles Morales has a much better origin story. And it’s one that modern audiences will find a much easier time relating to.”
Hmm, a scientifically gifted teenager gets bitten by a super science spider and gains spider powers that he doesn’t commit to using altruistically for the wider community. Because of this he fails to intervene in a crime the results of which ultimately wind up killing a noble person he admired. From this he learned that his great powers should be used responsibily to help others and carried a burden of guilt around with him. o this end he dressed up in webbed spandex and became a crime fighter called Spider-Man.
 Yeah...I can see how that is so much better and modern than Peter Parker’s origin...
  This doesn’t even explain how or why the origin is better, it just says Peter’s origin is iconic but Miles is better and leaves it at that.
 Surely if something is better than the iconic thing you’d have more to say about it.
  “Miles, meanwhile, had to deal with his powers being stolen by an uncle (whom we saw briefly in Spider-Man: Homecoming) before Miles’ early exploits with Venom led to the loss of his mother.”
 This isn’t part of his origin and therefore doesn’t belong in this section.
Moreover it’s asinine because it omits Peter’s early adventures to give the false impression Miles is better.
 Let’s say Miles’ uncle stole his powers. Why is this somehow better than ‘My uncle is dead, I need to step up and replace him as the man of the house, also my aunt is chronically ill, I am cash strapped and I constantly get shit in both my identities’.
 Call me crazy but wasn’t Spider-Man supposed to be ABOUT those normal life problems as opposed to the inherently fantastical problem of your magic science spider powers getting jacked?
 Or your mother dying due to an ooze monster before she was literally resurrected like two years later negating all drama?
 Even if his mother had remained dead, how does this make him better than Peter? His mother died. Wow. I’ve NEVER seen a superhero with a dead parent before. I’ve NEVER seen a female supporting character die in a superhero story before. Certainly not a Spider-man story. Certainly not a Spider-Man story that changed comic books forever before shallow repetitions like murdering the characters mother turned it into a mess of a cliché. A mess of a cliché that the same guy who did it reversed 2 years later.
  “In this way, he feels a much keener guilt over the passing away of a family member than Peter Parker does”
  **** please!
 His mother came BACk to life two years later and it wasn’t like his ENTIRE motivation after she died was BUILT around his grief over her death.
 Like Peter brings up Uncle Ben’s death so much that we needed to do a movie that SPECIFICALLY DOESN’T BRING IT UP!
 And this isn’t even getting into how despite being a family member the best analogy for Rio within Peter’s story is Gwen NOT Uncle Ben.
 And you cannot with a straight face tell any Spider-Man fan Gwen’s death was not AS keenly felt by Peter as Rio’s was for Miles.
 Miles quit after Rio died and then an arc or two later after a time skip he was back in the saddle. Meanwhile literally 2 years worth of issues were devoted to depicting Peter’s grieiving of Gwen and then we also wouldn’t shut up about it for another 40 years!
 “making him not only more motivated, but more sympathetic in the eyes of the readers.”
 If Rio’s death made Miles more motivated than Peter...why did he literally quit being Spider-Man after she died?
 This gets even dumber when you consider this article is drawing an analogy between Rio’s death and Uncle Ben.
 RIO’s death motivated Miles to quit for  A WHOLE YEAR!
 Uncle Ben’s death motivated Peter to BE a superhero for *checks watch) 56 years and counting!
 And what is this the tragedy Olympics? Miles deserves more sympathy because his mother died when he was fighting a villain than Peter does for when his father figure died due to someone he failed to stop?
 At best BOTH things are equally tragic and worthy of sympathy.
 At worst if you truly contextualize this, fuck no Miles doesn’t deserve more sympathy.
 I’m not saying ‘screw him he deserved it’. I’m just saying of course Peter had it worse.
 When Rio died that was the third major death in Miles’ life. His mother, his uncle and Ult Peter Parker.
 Yeah, that’s 2 dead family members to Peter’s 1 circa Gwen’s death right?
  Wrong. Peter lost his parents, his uncle which was his fault, George Stacy who was another father figure which he also felt guilty over and then also his girlfriend/practically his fiancé...which he also felt guilty over.
 Then you’ve got the fact that Miles, whilst feeling guilty over Ult Peter’s death, didn’t actually know him personally. Peter knew all those people personally sans his parents, but they were still his parents.
 And then he had to be the provider for May whilst having exactly zero emotional support from anyone other than her. Miles had Ganke through everything. Peter had jackshit and was also getting bullied and was also getting hated on by Jameson.
 You can’t even say “Well Miles had it worse because he saw his mother die violently right in front of him.” Peter saw and CAUSED Gwen to die violently in front of him, he saw George Stacy die violently in front of him, he at least KNEW Uncle Ben died violenty and in his own home to boot.
 And unlike Miles’ uncle or mother none of THOSE people came back to life!
 19. PETER: CREATIVE USE OF POWERS
 “Have you ever thought about how limited Peter Parker’s powers really are? No, seriously — he has spider-sense and super-strength, and he made himself some webs and that’s it”
 -and, spider agility, and spider speed and you know wall-crawling the one thing his namesake, a spider, FAMOUSLY does!
 “Seemingly every issue has him doing something new with his powers,”
 Says someone who’s clearly not read much Spider-Man.
 How the hell do you even begin to try and have him do something new in every issue across multiple monthly titles across 57 years my god!
 18. MILES: COOLER COSTUME
 “If you were trying to figure out what the most iconic comic book costume was, it may very well be Peter Parker’s Spider-Man costume. Those red and blue tights have inspired literally decades of comics fans, young and old. But we hate to break it to you: Miles Morales has the cooler costume.”
 “The red and blue may be iconic, but it’s also difficult to translate into the real world, such as live action films.”
 This is fucking moronic on four levels.
 Level 1: It was a costume designed for a comic book which isn’t set in the real world or even in a live action medium so the point is fucking moot because the measure of a COMIC BOOK character’s costume is how well it works in a COMIC BOOK.
 By this logic Batman’s costume sucks shit because it’s rarely translated well into live action and usually needed to be made all black.
 By this logic ALL MANGA isn’t that great because none of it translates t the real world.
 Level 2: If the thing is ICONIC then obviously is does effing work!
 Level 3: Solid black with red patterning on top of it. Yes. I can see how this is very original and inherently better.
 Level 4: The red and blue costume has literally been translated into film FOUR TIMES!
 “Meanwhile, Miles’ black and red costume looks sleek and modern.”
 Looking sleek and modern doesn’t counter ‘is difficult to translate to film’. Those are two separate things.
 Moreover, it’s ‘modernity’ is afforded it by being again, mostly unoriginal.
 Shit Spider-Man’s SECOND most iconic costume, which is also more iconic than Miles’, is even MORE sleek so does that make it more ‘modern’ too?
  It’s the same nonsense as before, ‘it’s just better’. How and why!
  “ It’s a perfect compromise between comic book sensibilities and real world aesthetics”
 Which means it’s not as good in the medium it was designed for as another costume that was!
 “and you can’t help but grin whenever you see it.”
 That isn’t even a point, that’s barely even an individual opinion!
 17. PETER: BETTER LOVE INTERESTS
“Sometimes, comparing Peter Parker and Miles Morales feels like comparing apples and oranges. ”
 And reading this article comparing them feels like throwing up.
 “That’s because there are some cool things that one hero has that the other doesn’t, meaning there’s no real comparison. ”
 Okay like...first of all if the author actually believes that then what the fuck is the point of this list!
 Second of all, the fact that they are comparing them means obviously they can be compared.
 Thirdly the fact that they are literally both characters called Spider-Man, with spider powers, based in New York, who got their powers the same way, fight ostensibly the same villains and (allegedly) touch upon the same types of sub-genres and are both made by Marvel comics OBVIOUSLY MEANS THEY ARE COMPARABLE!
 Like fuck dude, this isn’t like you are trying to compare Spider-Man to the Power Rangers!
  “Peter Parker has had an epic romance with Mary Jane Watson, as well as dalliances with Felicia Hardy and Carlie Cooper.”
  Really? You are going to list off a quick romantic history of Spider-Man and you mention MJ and Felicia and...Carlie Cooper.
 A character not seen since 2014. A character who dated Spider-Man for like one year publishing time.
 You will mention her but not, I dunno, Gwen effing Stacy?
  16. MILES: MORE INFLUENTIAL
 I’m face palming from just the title of this one.
 “One reason that we think Miles Morales might be the better Spider-Man is because of how influential he is. And we’re not just talking about more and more fans discovering the character each year. A major bit of evidence is that his character highly influenced the insanely successful Spider-Man: Homecoming.”
  Well I’m happy somebody is acknowledging Homecoming was basically a whitewashed Miles movie.
 “An example of this is Peter’s friend in the movie, Ned Leeds. Longtime Spidey fans were surprised that he looked nothing like the Ned of the comics. That’s because his design and characterization was based on Miles’ friend, Ganke Lee. On top of that, we even see Miles’ uncle, Aaron Davis, played by Donald Glover. This gave many fans hope we’d see Miles Morales in the MCU!”
  Just to be crystal clear here, this ‘article’ is asserting that Miles Morales, a character invented by Bendis and Pichelli less than 10 years ago, is more influential than the character that....literally every teenage super hero after 1962 was inspired by (including Miles himself)...who was created by one of the art Gods of all comics and the single most famous writer of comic books of all time.
 And their ‘evidence’ for this was...one movie from last year...that he wasn’t even in...
 15. PETER: FANTASTIC…FIVE?
There is nothing objectionable in this sans the fact that he joined the Future Foundation not the F4.
14. MILES: STEALTHY SPIDER
 “We love Peter Parker’s abilities but if we’re being honest, they don’t always make a lot of sense. Detecting future danger and being super-strong is really neat, but it never exactly screamed “spider” to us.”
 Spiders are very strong for their size. Hence ‘proportional strength of a spider’ as a commonly used phrase associated with the character.
 The Spider Sense is more defencible as being ‘not a spider thing’, but there are still ways to explain it.
 “It felt a bit like the writers were just making stuff up.”
 ...making stuff up is literally the definition of writing fiction...
 “And if you’re going to make up some weird powers, we say “go big or go home.””
 None of Peter’s powers sans his spider sense were even remotely weird if he was intended as a human spider.
  “And that’s why we like Miles Morales’ cool stealth ability. His ability to blend into his surroundings creates some really fun stories, and adds a fun dose of Batman to the Spidey stories that we love.”
 Not only is this dumb because being like another character is not a good thing (doesn’t it make you less unique), but worse it pretends like having stealth is something that’s even MORE insane for a spider than spider sense.
 It’s not.
 Spiders can camouflage into their surroundings like you know....shittons of animals people commonly know about.
 13. PETER: AVENGERS MEMBER
 Nothing that wrong here.
 12. MILES: GALACTUS FIGHTER
  “When fans argue about which characters are the best, there are plenty of different metrics. One of the biggest, though, is who the character has managed to fight. And if a hero is able to take on a villain well above their weight, it establishes just how serious they are.
So, how can you tell that Miles Morales is the best? He managed to take on Galactus. No, seriously — when Galactus threatened the universe, Miles Morales teamed up with resident big brain Reed Richards in order to get information and allies. While it was definitely a team effort, Miles should get credit for tackling a bigger foe than Peter Parker ever did.”
 This is so fucked up it’s not even funny.
 By this logic ANY TIME Peter contributed even a little to a team effort that ultimately led to beating someone it should count on his win record.
 Okay then. In AvX he contributed to fighting the Phoenix, which is canonically MORE powerful than Galactus. He’s also contributed to fighting Galactus in Secret Wars. He contributed to fighting Onslaught who was approaching a Galactus level threat. He contributed towards defeating Scarlet Witch in House of M and restoring the 616 universe, Scarlet Witch also being even more powerful than Galactus in that story.
 If you DIDN’T use this type of bullshit then Peter has taken on supremely more powerful foes than Miles.
 Juggernaut, Hulk, Tri-Sentinel, Rhino. The entire X-Men.
 Even the stuff that doesn’t make sense for either character put Peter ahead. Peter beat Firelord a Herald of Galactus, whilst Miles beat Blackheart, the son of Mephisto.
 Let me remind you that Silver Surfer, also a Herald of Galactus, has beaten Mephisto himself.
 Therefore Firelord is most likely put of Blackheart’s weight class.
 11. PETER: CIA PARENTS
 There is nothing incorrect in this but why is this a point in Peter’s favour? Spider-Man is supposed to be down to Earth so the more James Bond super spy craziness involved the more reductive it is.
 Hell it doesn’t even make sense against Miles since Miles dad worked for SHIELD.
  “We shouldn’t be surprised Peter is who he is when he had parents like this!”
 Yeah or you know it could’ve been because of Uncle Ben as literally every version of Spider-Man spells out for us.
  10. MILES: S.H.I.E.L.D. AGENT
 “Just as you can judge a hero by who they fight, you can also judge them by who they fight alongside. When a character joins a team with a proud history and powerful members, it goes to show just how amazing that hero is. And this is why we love that Miles Morales is a member of S.H.I.E.L.D.
He was hand-picked as a hero with great potential and trained by the greatest secret agents on the planet and this is all the more impressive because he already has more training and experience at his young age than Peter had way back when.”
See what I said about about James Bond stuff in Spider-Man being a bad thing.
 Also, if Miles is better because he fought alongside SHIELD, then by this logic Peter would be better because he was a member of the Avengers and FF...at the same time.
 Moreover, whilst it’s true Miles has had more training than peter had, he hasn’t necessarily had as much experience.
 And the point is moot if training and experience doesn’t translate into you being a better fighter, and at a comparable age, Peter definitely could’ve beaten Miles provided the writers didn’t cop out and have his Spider Sense not work so he can avoid Miles’ cheat code Venom blast.
 9. PETER: CHEATING HIS DEMISE
“One time, Kraven filled Spider-Man with tranquilizer darts and left him to pass away, going so far as to bury him. Peter emerged alive, but he later “passed away” after fighting Morlun, only to be reborn with weird new spider-powers. It turns out you just can’t keep him down!”
 Okay, but he also died in Secret Wars, Infinity Gauntlet and Infinity War (the comic, not the movie, or it might’ve been Infinity Crusade).
 8. MILES: BETTER SUPPORTING CAST
 Oooooooooooooooooooooh boy can’t wait for this!
 “Sure, given enough time, you may be able to rattle off a few additional names when it comes to Peter Parker’s supporting cats.”
 This is such BS because Felicia alone is a more memorable supporting cat than any of the felines in Miles’ series.
 LEARN TO SPELL CHECK ON THE ARTICLE YOU’VE BEEN PAID FOR!
 “But when pressed, most people will simply say “Aunt May and Mary Jane.””
 No, most people would say Aunt May, Mary Jane, Harry Osborn, J. Jonah Jameson, Gwen Stacy and possibly now Ned Leeds due to Homecoming.
 And that’s just for Joe Average on the street. Actual comic book fans would say all those people and also probably Black Cat, Betty Brant, Joe Robertson, Liz Allan, Flash Thompson and possibly Norman Osborn and Eddie Brock (the latter being a mistake due to adaptations but still, they’d mention him).
 “And while we’re calling them a “supporting cast,” they often don’t play a major role in the story.”
 Almost like they exist to...SUPPORT the main story isn’t it? Wheras being a MAJOR character would be different.
 This is also a BS metric to use for Spider-Man. Spider-Man’s core concept involves him being a normal guy in his civilian life who is also a super hero, with those two sides impacting upon one another.
 Since most stories are mostly about the hero stuff it means that to get the supporting cast involved in major stories would make them involved in the super hero stuff and therefore make Peter’s civilian life NOT normal.
 “With Miles, he gets to have his spider-cake and eat it, too. He has a major supporting friend in the form of Ganke Lee, who provides insight into both the personal and the superhero life of Miles. And Miles has an extended supporting cast as part of all those team-ups: Avengers, Ultimates — if Miles needs help, some A-listers are just a dial away!”
 First off, by this logic Mary Jane from like 1984 and Aunt May from 2001 would count as equally as Ganke.
 Second of all Ganke is literally the ONLY supporting cast the folks with the most cursory knowledge of Miles could name. Even under CBR’s nonsensical logic of Aunt May and Mj being the ONLY people anyone would know from Peter’s cast, that’s still two vs. one. The author brought up a point against Peter and then failed to demonstrate how Miles is better in comparison, probably because he wasn’t.
 Thirdly the Avengers and the Ultimates are NOT supporting cast members, they are team mates!
 Fourthly, by that logic Peter again has the advantage since the Avengers, F4, the (Netflix) Defenders, the X-Men and literally everyone he ever teamed up with in Marvel Team up count as his supporting cast!
  7. PETER: DEALING WITH THE DEVIL
 Forget what I said earlier. Now THIS really should be good!
  “We���re going to keep saying this over and over again, but the best way to judge a hero is to look at the villains they have gone up against. And in the case of Peter Parker, he’s actually survived the greatest villain in all of history in the devil himself or, as they call him in Marvel Comics, Mephisto.”
 That is such insane broken and desperate logic I almost want to love this article for trying.
 Peter is better than Miles BECAUSE of the worst Spider-man story of all time.
 Wow. That’s beautifully bonkers.
But seriously, this is...just holy shit.
 Peter did survive an encounter with Mephisto...but Mephisto was never trying to kill him. They never exchanged blows at all.
 Saying Peter survived Mephisto is like saying Miles survived God Emperor Doom in Secret Wars, therefore he’s more awesome.
 Then you have the fact that Mephisto really, really, really isn’t even the greatest villain in the marvel universe. I hate to invoke Quesada, but he isn’t even the ACTUAL devil. He’s not even the ACTUAL guy who rebelled against God and was damned to be the ruler of Hell. He’s one of the 4 rulers of Hell alongside Satan, Satannish and Lucifer, who is the ACTUAL Biblical devil. In fact one of them (Satannish) is himself the SON of the Dread Dormammu and supposed to be weaker than his old man IIRC.
 DAFQ are you the greatest villain when the DAD of one of your peers is a bigger deal than you are?
 And if we ignore morality for a moment and look at raw power, shittons of antagonists are much more powerful and dangerous than Mephisto or else have been capable at times of owning his red ass.
 Thanos. Firelord. Hela. Galactus. Annihilus. Dark Phoenix. Arguably Apocalypse and Onslaught.
 “Longtime fans don’t like to remember this because it is a highly controversial story. ”
 Longtime fans? It was only 10 years ago!
 And the sequel was only 8 years ago!
 And it got referenced explicitely THIS YEAR!
  “Spider-Man basically gets Mephisto to save Aunt May’s life, but Mephisto’s price is that he will rewrite reality so that Peter and Mary Jane never loved each other. ”
 Holy shit that isn’t even an accurate summation of the most infamous story ever.
 Mephisto rewrites their marriage, not their love. And Spidey gets him to do nothing, it was an offer Peter accepted.
 “Is it the clumsiest reset button ever? Sure. But Peter still survived encountering the ultimate evil.”
 He survived in so far as he didn’t die. He objectively lost though.
  6. MILES: PLAYING WELL WITH OTHERS
  “One of the weirder qualities of Peter Parker is how much he likes to keep to himself. ”
 No one in the real world does that. And it isn’t like he has a rich friendship group or anything.
 “Sure, he’s been on many teams (and that many more team-ups), but at the end of the day, he prefers to work alone.”
 Except when he’s in Marvel Team up or with Black Cat.
 “This isn’t the case for Miles Morales, which is why the young man has better allies than Peter does.”
 Preferring to be a loner vs a team player doesn’t make you better or worse it’s just different. But even if it didn’t Peter has allies too. Most of Miles allies are also Peter’s and Peter has even more.
 “Who are we talking about? Miles is both friends and allies with characters like Ms. Marvel, Nova, Amadeus Cho,”
 And Peter is both friends and allies with characters like Captain Marvel (both female ones), the ORIGINAL more powerful Nova, and Bruce Banner, a.k.a. the original and holy fuck immeasurably stronger Hulk.
 He’s also friends with Thor, Iron Man, Captain America, Wolverine and most of the X-Men and Avengers and F4.
  “He seemed to figure out something early on that eluded Peter Parker for many years: that it’s good to have a support system in place, especially as a superhero!”
 And yet, Peter survivied on his own for years like a bad ass.
  5. PETER: THE MAN, THE MYTH
 “While the comic played coy and never confirmed this, it is strongly hinted that Peter Parker is part of centuries of “spider totems” that are chosen as champions. That means the spider that bit him was not powered by radiation: it had powers it wanted to give Peter, and only later passed away due to radiation. You may or may not believe it, but Peter quite likely has centuries of lineage fueling his powers!”
 Again this isn’t necessarily a good thing.
  4. MILES: BETTER VILLAINS
BWAHAHAHAHAHA...oh they’re serious...
 Do you want to know the secret to nostalgia? Your brain only remembers the good parts of whatever you’re thinking about. Your buddy that loves ’80s music? Trust us when we say that he managed to brain wipe some pretty awful stuff — it’s a lot like that with Peter Parker’s rogues gallery.
Sure, there are some cool villains like Venom, Green Goblin, and Doctor Octopus, but there are also some real lame ones like the Shocker.
 a)   The author can go suck a dick, Shocker is awesome.
b)   Yeah SOME cool villains like those 3 guys...and Carnage...and Kingpin...and Hobgoblin...and Rhino...and Scorpion...and Electro...and Vulture....and basically everyone under the Ditko run
c)   By this logic Miles villains suck ass too because he’s fought many lame ones too
  “Compared to this, Miles Morales has fewer villains, but that means fewer duds as well. ”
 Super hero rogue’s galleries are not marked negatively.
 It’s one thing if you have few good villains and most of the time you fight lame ones.
 It’s entirely different if you have a lot of good villains, and way more disposable rarely seen lame ones. The lame ones don’t make the whole thing suck shit.
 This is particularly asinine since most of Miles villains are either Peter’s villains or else the Ultimate versions of them.
 What is worse is that by this logic BATMAN has a worse rogue’s gallery than Miles Morales!
 “We’ll take cool villains like the resurrected Aaron Davis over Peter Parker’s C-list baddies any day!”
 So would I probably but would you take him over Venom, Doc Ock or any of the Osborns!
  3. PETER: ALIEN FIGHTER
I don’t even understand how this is a point in Peter’s favour
  2. MILES: SPIDER-BITE
“As we said earlier, it often felt weird that Spider-Man wasn’t more like, well, a spider.”
 He is like one the author is just a jackass.
  “Which is one of the reasons we appreciate Miles Morales so much. In addition to having a cooler backstory”
 A near identical backstory made cooler because the author said so...
 “and a more realistic costume, ”
 Which is bad because in a visual medium like comics where you aren’t bound by the constraints of reality (hence spandex looks awesome) ‘realism’ in your costume designs is not a good thing.
 “Miles has more realistic spider-powers as well, including his “bite.””
 ...his what?
  “With a simple touch, Miles Morales is able to incapacitate villains. Now, Spidey being Spidey, he still has to engage in some wild fisticuffs on more than one occasion, but it’s pretty cool to see that he can take down major bad guys with a spider-bite instead of just fists powered by “radioactive blood.””
 Wow.
 Lets unpack this.
 First of all the author is such a dumbass they don’t even realize Miles’ Venom blast (not named because the author is a hack) is not a representation of a spider bite, but of a specific ability some species of spiders possess wherein they can paralyze foes with bio-electricity.
 This is one of THE most well known things about Miles.
  Second of all if this was analogous to a spider bite wouldn’t it i dunno involve his fucking TEETH!
 Third of all this is Miles’ worst power. It sucks the drama out of action sequences because it’s an auto-win button which means he wins too easily or looks like a moron when he doesn’t just bust it out.
 1. PETER: STOPPING THE UNSTOPPABLE
Again, there is nothing wrong in this, but like...how does this prove Peter is better.
 This article made me ill
26 notes · View notes
trbldyouth · 3 years
Text
Rewatching '80's Cinema In An Era Of #metoo & Cancel Culture
The interview was conducted with Samantha from the movie Sixteen Candles (1984).
Interviewer: Hello, Samantha?
Samantha: Hey, how are you?
Interviewer: I am good; you look stunning today must say life is treating you quite well.
(Soft chuckle) Sure I have been up and about since life keeps changing, and we all need to grow.
Interviewer: Mmhh. That is so true, and I relate because last I saw you, you were busy eyeing Jake. (Soft chuckles) So how is the romance? 
Samantha: Well, honestly speaking. We all know those teenage crushes rarely lead to anything serious in the future. However, I am a happy mum of two and cannot complain.
Interviewer: How's Hollywood been treating you? I understand things can be rough at times when family comes into the picture?
Samantha: Honestly, life right now in Hollywood is more friendly compared to our times. Women have become more focused and are ready to step into the roles of leading characters and many significant roles as the need arises. During my heydays, it was simply difficult to get pregnant and keep your acting job. I see all the special effects and other forms of technology being used in the film industry at the moment and recognize how things have changed. A-list actors have become so phenomenal that they will engage in a project and have stunt doubles to play their role in case of mishaps. These simple pleasures really make it quite the era in the industry, and I feel blessed to have witnessed this transition.
Interviewer: I reckon since you were 16, you have seen so much significant change even in social stratification.
Samantha: That is true. People have developed so many eccentricities that were initially taboo. Simple pleasures like women smoking and engaging in frivolous activity were shunned, but people are becoming more liberal with ideas and how they view society. Standards that were set for relationships and marriage seem to have died overnight, and with the increasing drive for the LGBTQ, community change keeps coming. I must admit, I had a difficult time with the realization that I was different and how it kept affecting my life.
Interviewer: What do you mean by different?
Samantha: I have been in a fruitful and fulfilling relationship with my partner Sheila for 20 years. I was castigated for so long by my peers, family, and friends for my life choices. I was so lost in trying to live the fairy tale life I never took a moment to really evaluate my life. However, college life opened my eyes to endless possibilities and leaving home gave me a chance to really morph into the real me. Sheila has been my rock for so long and allowed me to see how there was so much more to life than I initially thought. It took time to convince my family, but with the evolution of the civil rights movement into other global movements, I am grateful that same-sex couples get a chance to live their lives in peace. I have always found it essential to advocate for happiness. That's why I make a point of living a modest life despite the allure of having a flashy life of glamour.  Think with time priorities do change.
Interviewer: Speaking of priorities, what is your view on stereotypes in film associated with women?
Samantha: Well, this really takes me back to a time when women were considered ornamental, and there was not much substance used to quantify them beyond physique. Films in the 80s have glamorized issues that society frowns upon today that would make you cringe. Think about sexual harassment, adversity to the LGBTQ community, body shaming, social slurs, and body shaming. I have been at the receiving of all these, unfortunately, and have lived to tell the tale. I know so many of my friends and family who are mentally unwell or have lost their lives to these behaviors that society considered acceptable back then. Women are the recipients of so much hate and have always been considered as ornamental and as items to be objectified. Jake may have been in a bad relationship, but sadly I realized he had been the problem all along. His demeanor and approach to treating women opened up my eyes and made me realize I was not willing to put up with fake love if I may use the term.
Interviewer: Speaking of Jake and the issues of harassment. What is your take on the #Metoo movement?
Samantha: Tarana Burke, is God-sent and I pray that she understands how this world is a better place because of her decision to give a voice to the voiceless. I wish the #Metoo movement existed in time because so many people would have answered for so many of their heinous crimes. Alyssa Milano is quite the pioneer, and targeting Hollywood, and the film industry has given rise to so many positives. Men and women have actually come forward and shared stories of their suffering. It has been difficult for sexual violence victims to find a platform to share their experiences and have their perpetrators brought to justice.
Interviewer: I understand that. I have been following keenly as well. What do you believe has been the core of these problems?
Samantha: I firmly believe that systemic ills have been the core of the ills plaguing society. Essentially, people were allowed to be bigots, misogynists, and homophobes during my early days. The reason was that everyone was okay with it because the majority said so. However, people felt oppressed and fought back, and now we have so many issues that need correction. Admittedly, bringing attention to an issue does not guarantee justice and reprieve for all victims. However, it is a start, and, in the end, change will be evident. Consider the Black Lives Matter movement that has been championing the rights of African Americans. People are yet to meet them halfway, and with continued incidents of police brutality and discrimination, it is possible they have a long way to go to achieve their vision.
Interviewer: On that note, how has the rising Cancel Culture trend impacted you?
Samantha: Haha, I believe I will get crucified for this, but I find it quite refreshing and expedient in remodeling society. Don't get me wrong, the idea of censoring and denying someone their fundamental freedom is abhorrent. Still, people should learn to value morality as a society. Taking in just about anything that is produced as content for TV and film will only diminish the critical values that define society. I don't need to tell you to switch off the TV when content is inappropriate but recognize the value of choice. Cancel culture taken back to my time would be the end of so many films. I personally have TV shows that I would cancel, but we are all free to do as we see fit. I hope I don't get you canceled, too (loud laughter).
Interviewer: I believe we are safe; the evolution of social media uses keeps us visible to all. Moving on swiftly, tell me how is your social life, or rather how has it evolved?
Samantha: I bet you will laugh at me. I am still trying to figure out how to tweet and post on Facebook and seriously miss MySpace. I tend to avoid social media and have stuck to actually interacting with people in person rather than behind a screen. Sheila gets on my nerves because she insists I keep learning, but I am not interested in any of it. Life was really hectic in the 80s and has gotten much easier with technology. However, as I pointed out, content matters a lot, and from the extent, I have seen even presidents get to on social media, I better keep myself offline. I know it sounds sad, but I prefer it compared to the digital noise that is pushing so many to seek unattainable lives.
Interviewer: Well, to me, that sounds like an excuse to get stuck in an era that is already gone!
Samantha: As I said, it sounds crazy, but I am very picky with what I choose to adopt. I have a TV, but my kids know how strict I get with enforcing regulations with viewing. I am from an age where I understand the influence of toxicity, and I am not willing to see my children get engulfed in a superficial perception of reality. I thank God for my partner Sheila because she always supports me. She understands where I am coming from and has grown also to enjoy the liberty of embracing proper moderated content for our kids. If we are in the house, we need to be in the living watching something together without worrying about what might happen.
Interviewer: So, what have you been holding onto from your early days as a teen?
Samantha: I have some old mixtapes I listen to whenever I want to get into the groove. I also keep vinyl records of Luther Vandross because his music speaks to my soul in a unique way. Plus, I still own an iPod since my daughter broke my cd Walkman (giggles).
Interviewer: I must admit this has been quite the journey, and I understand you will be featuring in a short film showcasing societal prejudice?
Samantha: Actually, yes, it's a documentary feature, and it will be releasing in the summer of next year. I have come full circle and find myself in the spotlight, and all I hope is that my story will inspire someone else. I realize the world has so much noise, and it is essential to have some peace and quiet to ensure we remain on the right track.
Interviewer: Your life has been quite the movie of sorts, and I hope you have enjoyed the experiences and you will do more going forward. Any final words before we wind up this interview?
Samantha: Sure, I am looking forward to all life has to offer and what I can offer others. My final thoughts would be to urge those in power to recognize those they serve, let people respect the rights of others, and always consider yourself in a similar situation before engaging in that life-altering act.
Interviewer: Thank you so much for your time, Samantha. I wish you well in your endeavors.
0 notes
shabby-blog · 6 years
Note
Oh my God, Shabby, Shabby, you are KILLING ME!!! You were wanted in marriage, in exchange for goats, in Turkey, and almost kidnapped, and ALL while you were 14?! Gah! Why do so many of your experiences make me want to put them in a story?! Seriously, this one is making me laugh, but I am also slightly terrified for younger-you at the same time! You have put up several posts here that have given me food for SO many stories! I hope you have a really good day today, and thanks for everything you do
Hi!!I'm glad we can laugh at these experiences.Let me tell you more!!So, I was 14 when my parents decided we would go to marmaris for a 2 week holiday.At the time I was naturally blond (I was born almost white-blond and have just progressively gotten darker the older ive gotten) and blue eyed, and I've always looked a little older than I am because my chest developed quite early on.The place was horrid.There was music blasting from the adjoining clubs until 4 in the morning and the other residents were mostly late teens to mid 20 year olds out to party.We were looking around a market when my stepdad was offered goats (or camels. Maaaay have been camels) for me.Mum was looking at some clothes and was asking how much, the man owning the stall said it's cost me, and he'd throw in some goats/camels because I was worth more than the top.Clearly that didn't happen.Another day we were simply walking down the street looking for a restaurant and a man came up and linked his arm in mine.I, being a rather gobby little shit even back then, started, very loudly, telling him to let me go. But he had one arm hooked in mine and his other hand holding mine so I couldn't wiggle free.My mum in her full 5' glory came to the rescue bellowing at him to let me go. He said he would in exchange for a kiss from me. She threatened to punch him.And lastly, we managed to find this amazing g little quiet beach after a few days in Icmeler, just a short bus ride away.We had been lounging on the beaches you do on holiday, and my folks decided to go for a swim. I was too engrossed in my book to join them. I had a young, but not younger than me, lad come and sit at the end of my sun bed and start up a conversation.I wasn't as cynical back then as I am now, so I smiled and chatted back, though I found it a little difficult to understand him.Once again my mum came to the rescue, but with a little more tact this time.When he managed to explain to her he was asking for permission. To marry me, she told him no, and explained I was 14. His face was a picture. He hadn't realised I was so young. He apoligised and that was the last we saw of him.Over all I would probably have a better experience in Turkey as a 30 year old adult than I had as a child, but after trade bargains, attempted kidnappings, marriage proposals, drunken teenagers, very little sleep, and a bout of water poisoning, I've been put off the place.If you ever want to use these experiences as a prompt go right ahead!! Honestly I can laugh at it all now, but I didn't quite realise they would amuse other people too.
3 notes · View notes
Text
Wayward
     I used to spend hours on Tumblr, drinking coffee, writing, and infinitely scrolling down the dash. Coming back here feels like I’m looking at a relic of a time that is no longer, yet there’s a comfort in the familiarity that is still present. Learning about the existence of this place in my early 20’s was life saving. Sometimes, you think you’re all alone in the world, unsure of your feelings, feeling abnormal, only to find there are people who understand, who don’t judge, and allow you to freely express yourself. As life happens, my time on here became less frequent as the years went by. As much as I’ve been open on other social media about my struggles with mental health, I never quite felt as open or comfortable as on here. Something told me to come back.A few log in attempts later and voila! The password was correct. 
 There’s definitely a lot to unpack. Before I continue:
TW: depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, disordered eating, substance abuse, trauma
     I have a collection of journals from the past 16 years in a bag under my bed. If they could all be converged into one book, they’d tell you the story of a severely depressed, suicidal person who couldn’t love themself, and how devastating the effects of bullying could have on someone. Depression introduced itself to me at a young age and never left. There it was lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right opportunity to strike. It found me vulnerable, weak, unable to fend for myself. It came on like a possession-intrusive, insidious, and invasive. It led me down a dark path that seemed to have no end in sight. The lights were dim, only brightened by temporary euphoria. 
   Daenerys Targaryen said, “If I look back, I am lost.” It can be disorienting looking back at the past, trying to pinpoint where things went awry. I’ve gotten tangled in the roots searching for answers. Looking back at everything that’s changed, that is no longer, creates this feeling of being lost. It’s easy to get wrapped up in what was instead of what is currently taking place. I long for the person I used to be, however, that person wasn’t doing much better. It only appears that way because of nostalgia’s tendency to make things seem better than they actually were. I guess it’s because when you compare how I am now to who I’ve been, she seems more alive. I’ve carried this pain with me since adolescence, unable to let go of all the hurt and damage that was afflicted onto me. It didn’t occur to me until I was older that what I’ve been experiencing is a result of trauma. That is a whole other story in and of itself, but this trauma laid the foundation for how I’ve lived my life. Trying to come to terms with it has been a mind numbing, heart wrenching experience for sure.
       As a teenager, there were all these thoughts and feelings that were difficult to put into words. I was angry all the time, yet some would blame that on being a teenager. A lot of things were written off as teenage angst, attention seeking, drama queen behavior. But inside, I was seriously in need of help. I was suicidal, self-medicating by abusing drugs/alcohol, and had such a vehement hatred towards my body. I ended up struggling with disordered eating that ranged from starvation to binge eating to throwing up. I was infuriated at my body and would break down crying every night, begging to a higher power to change it. I didn’t want to be me. My disgustingly low self-esteem and feelings of worthlessness prevented me from living.
         I’ve been through the gamut with mental illness. Between being hospitalized a few years ago, being diagnosed with bipolar disorder(sometimes, I wonder if that’s an accurate diagnosis), being put on all sorts of medication that were mostly ineffective with side effects that made me unbelievably sick,( *Note: This doesn’t mean that psychiatric meds are ineffective. They can work wonders for people) and talking to different therapists, feeling no significant change. It’s not to say they weren’t helpful, but no matter what I did, nothing seemed to actually work long term. I started to feel defective. Yoda said, “Do or do not, there is no try” but damn, I was doing my best to get better and to be better, but the depression was relentless. After a while, the suicidal thoughts started to get worse, reaching dangerous levels. This year, I started making plans.
        I started looking around me as though it were the last time I’d see any of this place. When you lose the ability to feel joy or pleasure, it makes life a living torture. I stopped talking to my friends, interacting with people, and even stopped engaging as much with my own family. Despite posting online, being “active”, I wasn’t interactive. My loved ones know that I isolate when things get rough, yet it was never to this extent, for this long. My physical health has also declined-having my hair fall out, unable to eat without feeling sick, intense pain throughout my body, and more. My body is attacking itself. It got to the point where my family had to convince me to go see a doctor. I don’t have any answers yet, but hopefully, they’ll be able to help resolve a lifetime of unexplained sickness. 
     I don’t know what to do anymore. The other day, as I stood outside, I looked up at the stars, saying to myself, “I just want to get rid of this depression.” And as soon as that thought finished, a bright, flash of light passed by me. At first it looked like lightning or someone taking a picture with the flash on, but there was no one around at 2 something in the morning. No lightning either. I took that as a sign that someone’s watching over me because the thoughts that were going through my head earlier weren’t good ones. I’ve been breaking down on and off over the past few weeks, crying to my Mom. I feel at such a loss. I never imagined that my life would turn out this way or that I’d become reclusive and that my mental health would get exponentially worse. I was going to check myself into the hospital earlier this year, then covid hit and I didn’t know what to do after that. I’ve been suffering for the past 11 months, deteriorating. It’s scary when you start to forget things, when you start to experience major memory loss and dissociation. It makes you feel like nothing is real. I’ve been going over and over things in my head, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on and how to remedy it. Is there something I’m missing? Is there some realization, some epiphany I need to come to in order to be free of this?
      There are many facets, multiple layers to peel back. I’ve never quite felt grounded in reality. My mind always felt like it was off somewhere else, floating around- a rogue balloon wandering about. The person who has hurt me the most will most likely never take accountability for their actions and it’s something that I have to move past. Denial is a sonuvabitch that hits hard when you see what’s underneath. My coping mechanisms have mostly failed me, yet somehow preserved me long enough to get to this point. I often wonder what life would’ve looked like had it not been dysfunctional.
       Seeing yourself go from an outgoing, upbeat, talkative person to being completely isolated is a jarring experience. Once you’re deep in isolation, it’s challenging to get out of. I’ve said this elsewhere- my social skills have taken on the consistency of stale bread. I don’t even know how to keep a conversation flowing anymore without it being painfully dull. You know, the dreaded small talk. I don’t know how to engage or ask questions. All of these things that came naturally to me have dissipated over time. What the hell happened to the person who could talk for hours about anything and everything? What have they been reduced to? HELLO, WHERE ARE YOU?     
   The past two decades of my life have been painful; even with all the happy, precious moments in between. Random memories flash through my mind, yet they don’t feel as if they belong to me. That was someone else’s life. It feels as though someone handed me a script with a brief character synopsis, telling me that I need to be this character. I have to be convincing enough for her loved ones to believe I’m actually her or they’ll get suspicious. 
        I have a lot to weed through as you can see. There’s a lot that needs to be dismantled, unprogrammed, uninstalled. Perhaps the cure hasn’t been created yet or maybe it’s there and only needs to be found. Maybe it needs to be unlocked. I don’t know. What I do know is that somewhere deep down inside, under all the layers of trauma, pain, depression, anxiety, and self-hatred, is someone so capable of making a beautiful life for themselves. 
      Someone once told me that you have to deal with the shit you’re in control of and put everything that’s not in your control on the back burner, off to the side to deal with at another time because you’ll lose your mind. There are situations that I’m unable to fix or change because they’re not in my power to. They inadvertently affect me on a deep, cellular level, however, I have to put up boundaries to prevent myself from losing it. I like to believe that people are capable of change; that they’ll finally realize what they do has a domino effect on everyone else. That too, is a whole other story that is too personal to speak about. 
       I yearn for a different kind of life. One in which I’m happy in my body, feeling at home in my skin. One where I’m deeply in love and sharing this life with someone. One where I’m pursuing writing, and able to have a promising, fulfilling career. One where I’m healthy. One where I’m running around with a bunch of cats, running wildly into the night. I know it’s not too late to start over, or to change direction. There has to be another way.
  My teens and 20’s were a conglomerate of self-destruction. My 30’s are where I’m rebuilding myself, working through all of the crap inside my head. Goddess, it’s exhausting but it’s necessary in order to move forward. Yesterday, as I drank coffee with my Mom on a walk, it made me feel hopeful for the first time in a long time. I’m learning to be more open and honest about my feelings and about who I am as a person. Although my past is messy, that person powered through in order for me to be here today. 
Good looks.
0 notes