100 Words On….. Social Media Validation http://dlvr.it/RqnLfr
I’ll go first:
I’ve been able to get my quiz done and study for a while!
That’s not necessarily the part I feel good about, but I feel good about myself for feeling interest in things again. I feel really good about being able to do something not only because I have to, but because I genuinely want to 😊
Do you think you could tell me what’s making you feel good today?
Alternatively, what would make you feel good about yourself if you’re not feeling good already?
Sometimes you haven’t written anything in TWO SOLID YEARS and you can still wake up to this, and that’s such a good feeling! Thank you to every single person who bothers to give a kudos - to me and every other author. You have no idea what a lovely, validating, rewarding thing it is to wake up to.
James Baldwin is one of my favorites. He was a storyteller who got to the heart of a matter, and shared it all with you. Long before I was born he was thinking of how his work, intentions, and actions would affect my generation. He is one of the reasons I love words and people who’s voices sound like melted chocolate. In one of the last things Baldwin wrote he spoke about his duty as a writer to be a witness￼ . As I think about his role as a witness, I think about the necessary trust given to him by those he witnessed. They trusted he would validate and affirm their stories. He, in turn, protected them from the evil fate of the single story. Folks he witnessed for had him to stand on when the world tried to erased them and their experiences.
We all deserve a Baldwin in our lives. We are entitled to having someone bare witness for us, to love us. The way we make room for them is to master vulnerability, and emotionalism. Although unfair sometimes we have to keep our emotions close to the vest in order for our witness to sit closest to the “stage”. Our Baldwin’s have to be able to hear a clear and vulnerable story. That validation feeds us, strengthens our bones, ￼￼and illuminates what sometimes is lost within us.
January 16th 2021
“ I deserve a witness and I’ll be a witness. I will protect myself and those within my reach from being a victim of the single story.” ￼
Y'all I have a genuine question on my quest to self respect and confidence. If approval comes from within and we shouldn’t seek validation, then why do compliments feel so good? Why do we sometimes crave that? Is there a way to evolve beyond ever wanting that (just like with unnecessary criticism and negativity).
i’m so tired of convincing myself that I don’t thrive over other people’s praises and opinions
Qu’est-ce qu’une lettre de validation de dette et en avez-vous besoin?
Cette scène vous semble-t-elle familière? Après une dure journée de travail, vous vous arrêtez chez vous et vérifiez le courrier. C’est une tâche que vous redoutez déjà car il n’y a jamais rien dans la boîte aux lettres mais de mauvaises nouvelles – vieilles factures, nouvelles factures, menaces limites de la part des agents de recouvrement. Il suffit de vous faire remonter dans la voiture,…
Cutting toxic people from your life before they push you to breaking point is a real and valid option.
#toxicpeople #toxicrelationships #toxicfriends #selfcare #valid
Everyone needs a reminder from time to time.
guys it’s okay even if the fic is 5 years old just leave comments if you liked it YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH IT HELPS
I posted a meme about being asexual in a Discord server that I’m in with the guy I’m dating rn (it’s important to note that he’s allo) and he responded by saying that if he could, he would buy 13 packs of cards and give me all the aces so that I could have a full deck of ace cards and I don’t know why but that’s the most accepting thing I’ve ever heard from anyone about me being ace and coming from an allo partner that makes it even better. I’m literally crying, I love him so much.
Someone has left a comment on La Bohème, which was so wholesome and… listen, a comment can/will make a writer cry.
That’s me. I’m the writer. I’m crying.
like this post if and only if you think epigraphs at the beginning of every chapter of a novel are cool
something i need to tell myself everyday.
Do you still have what I sent you?
Do you still look at them?
Do you still stroke that cock til you come while looking at them?
Do you still get hard at the idea of me?
Do you you miss me yet?
I want to start a only fans not for the money but for the validation of people finding me sexy.
And thats on
I’m not really sure where to start with this or how because it’s quite painful to talk about but I need to write it somewhere.
An overview is that I had someone I used to talk to about how I was feeling in life, someone I trusted and looked up to like a father figure. Unfortunately I found out a couple of years ago that person wasn’t who I thought they were and it hurt me more than I can find the words to say.
Growing up my Dad wasn’t really a talker or a listener. He’d avoid the deep or emotional chat as much as he could. I understand now that it was hard for him but unfortunately it caused me to feel like he didn’t care or love me enough, which of course I now know wasn’t true, but it was hard. I just wanted to be able to talk to him about how I felt as it was hard for me being a teenager. After going through the grief of losing my Mum and Granny it left me with so many feelings I didn’t understand, feelings I needed to talk about and be heard. I thought maybe my Dad resented me because I reminded him of my Mum which made me feel ashamed and guilty too.
I realised I couldn’t open up to my Dad about these feelings and struggles and in the end I found someone who I could, a teacher. Someone I could trust and confide in. He supported me in the ways my Dad couldn’t - just by listening and not judging me. He’d offer advice when he could but it was so unfamiliar to me to feel heard and like my emotions were valid. My Dad knew I started talking to a teacher and I actually think he was grateful for this because it meant he didn’t have to have conversations that were painful for him.
I’d grown up telling myself I was weak for feeling so much and needing to cry so often so I did my best to bury and supress the feelings I had, of course that made it worse but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I grew up around family that didn’t show their emotions and just got on with life. After my Mum died I don’t really ever remember her being mentioned much or talked about, especially not in a postive way so I felt like I wasn’t meant to think about her either. Opening up to my teacher about this helped me so much because I realised that it was okay to feel the things I did and that being upset didn’t make me weak.
It may sound strange that I spoke to a teacher so much because I had great friends around me but I never wanted to be a burden to them and because I felt so unhappy I didn’t want to bring others down. I also felt I needed support from an adult too, someone who could offer advice and someone more my parents age I suppose because the things I needed to talk about a lot, I struggled at times to with people my own age. I did have some counselling for a few months too when I was 16 and this was also very helpful. It was good to speak about issues to a stranger who didn’t know me.
During this time I actually pushed people away a lot or tried to, thankfully my close friends didn’t let me and struck around and were there for me still despite me needing to be alone a lot with my own thoughts or needing to talk to adults instead.
I talked to my teacher mostly about grief and how it affected me not remembering or really knowing my mum. I talked about feelings of guilt I’d felt for most of my life regarding my mum and that I felt I should have been able to help her more (obviously I know now that I was too young to know what was going on let alone help her). I talked about anxieties I had. I opened up about something I was extremely ashamed of and even though I no longer struggle with it I still don’t like to talk about it for fear of judgement; Self-Harm (I’d like to write about my struggles with this sometime but I find it hard because I guess I’m still a bit ashamed and scared of the judgement). I talked about how low I felt in who I was as a person. I talked about my relationship with my Dad. I talked about friendships and school work. I talked about how I always felt different and like I didn’t really belong. It actually makes me sad to remember how I felt all those years ago because I’ve grown up a lot since then and overcome so much but I’ll never forget those times and I know so many children and young people struggle with similar issues, life is tough for so many. My counselling sessions covered similar topics too and helped me to understand my emotions more.
Like I said, during this time I needed a lot of time to myself when it was break and lunchtimes at school. If I wasn’t talking to my teacher I’d either be walking very fast around the school listening to music, which looked very strange to all who saw me but it was a method I used to manage my anxiety, or I’d be sat alone somewhere trying to find some peace. This was harder because friends and peers would always come up to me with good intentions to talk and be nice and I’d be rude and either tell them I needed to be alone or just walk off. I feel guilty for this now but I desperately needed quiet and space because there was too much going on in my mind.
I’ll write more about all this another time because it’s actually quite hard to write about because it was such a difficult time for me and my mental health. It’s also difficult remembering the support I had and knowing what I do now makes me feel sad.
After I left school following my A Levels I kept in contact with the teacher who supported me so much. This was only via email but it meant a lot to me. The year after I left school turned out to be the toughest yet. University didn’t work out and I was incredibly unhappy and then in the following April my Dad died. Being able to still email the person who’d supported me through so much helped more than I can say. He was a great support after my Dad died, I visited my old school to talk to him and also other past teachers too during this time, it was a great comfort to go back to the place that felt safe and secure during this time, maybe that’s weird but it was what I needed. Being able to talk to someone who already knew my struggles and understood me helped so much in the years after losing my Dad. I only spoke to him via email or at school but it helped so much. I felt guilty because I hate needing people in life and like I’m a burden always needing support if that makes sense.
Anyway, I’ll write about some of these things in more detail another time. All I know is that I always found it hard to trust people in life and being able to talk to my teacher changed things for me. Just knowing someone would listen and cared meant everything to me. Unfortunately I found out a couple of years ago that the person I trusted and looked to like a parent figure actually wasn’t who I thought he was.
I won’t go into details because firstly it’s actually nothing to do with me so not really my place to but also it’s too hard to really say what I found out. It was something that happened years before I even knew him but it changed everything and I’m still trying to come to terms with it I think.
Trust is hard in life no matter who you find to open up to but when it’s broken it makes you question so many things. I know for some it might seem weird that the person I turned to was a teacher but as a teenager I didn’t feel like I could talk to anyone else, I knew it needed to be an adult because I needed advice that could only be found from someone older and I was too scared to open up to my Dad or Step-Mum.
I’ll never forget the support he gave me over the years and I do believe he cared but it hurt me so much to find out what I did. Honestly it broke me for a time, someone I looked to as a father figure, someone who listened to me without judgement, someone I trusted and looked up to. It’s just hard I guess when you lose people in life for whatever reasons.