dearlydarlingdahlia

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

Astarion is an Asshole

It's funny because my two friends who have read a substantive amount of my work haven't actually played bg3. (Side Note: I do have a friend who played it and loves Astarion who read a one shot of mine and she liked it, which was flattering). My husband told me that if my two friends actually played the game, they would be confused because Astarion in reality is an asshole. One of my other friends (who has played the game) reminded me of that yesterday and she seemed relieved I'm on an indefinite hiatus from writing about Astarion.

It's no denying it. Astarion does say many selfish, manipulative things in the game. His trauma doesn't justify it either.

It is true that I started writing Astarion fic to cope with how the Astarion in game would trigger me. I wanted to rewrite him as softer and more ready to heal. I wanted to give more depth and meaning to his emotional journey.

I'm proud of the many things I've written, but I can't help but wonder if it was problematic that I was fawning over Astarion possibly as a trauma response. Well, I suppose, there's no need to blame myself for having these feelings. They just are what they are.

Regardless of why I began writing, it was healing for me to reimagine what I wish I could have had instead of the manipulative, emotionally unavailable, and entitled partners that I've had before. I reimagined what I deserved.

I think I also liked writing about Astarion because I could see myself in him minus being an asshole. I saw myself in his trauma and how he needed a break from sex. That aspect of his story made me feel seen because I haven't seen that in media before. I could relate to his trauma driven need for control.

Still, it's odd how I'm drawn to the manipulative men of the game like Astarion and Enver Gortash. They're bad boys for sure. I think I just wanted to save them or fix them and make them good to me. Something about the manipulation and games just makes me feel at home because it's so familiar.

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

I don’t know if I’m just chaotic, but I think I’m done writing fan fic for a while. I think I’m done with even reading it. I think I’m done with Astarion. I feel like a little girl who had a crush and it’s so yesterday.

Going on vacation, it’s like my reality was expanded when so much of my world was just in my imagination. I returned feeling depressed after getting COVID, and I kept thinking to myself “What am I doing with my life?”

There’s nothing wrong with pouring so much of my energy and time into writing Astarion fics. In fact, I’m proud of everything I was able to create.

Somehow, returning from my trip, I just felt apathetic or uninterested. Even as I’m crawling out of this depression, I can’t see writing about Astarion in my future. It was a very sudden and abrupt change. It’s like I woke up from a dream.

During vacation, I was reading Taste of Magic. I was trying to read it and I just don’t even know how I created something so long. I don’t know how I wrote so many healing and smutty things. Part of me wonders who even is the girl who made all of this. It’s like I can’t even recognize my own writing.

I don’t think this is burnout. I don’t feel tired. I just feel uninterested.

Playing the game right now, I just see a bunch of pixels on the screen. I think I just want something that is real. Seeing so many couples on our vacation made me want to write about something that feels more real.

I also want to make something that is fully mine. The Astarions I write are so much softer than the source material that I might as well write something original.

NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) is coming up and I want to write my first story that isn’t a fan fic. Maybe it won’t be perfect but that’s okay.

I have a basic concept for a romance story about finding love again after domestic violence. The girl will be coping with her toxic previous relationship. The guy will want to help her but he’s dealing with his own savior complex issues. They’ll end up going to therapy together (same time different therapist) as they heal.

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

Dear higher power,

I need guidance on what to do with my addiction to praise and attention on ao3. What started out as a healing experience writing for myself and sharing for others, has now become an obsession.

When I don’t get the positive feedback I’m looking for, it takes a huge hit to my self esteem even if that’s pathetic. I doubt myself and even shame myself. I feel worthless and not good enough.

I feel like that awkward teenage girl I was freshman year of high school with glasses, braces, and clothes that didn’t fit because I was way too skinny. I feel like the one no one wanted to talk to or be friends with. The loser. The outcast. Someone to be abandoned and left behind.

I just want to be free of my suffering. I want to feel enough regardless of how people respond to my work. I still want to check my stats, but do so less, and when it doesn’t turn out the way I hope… I want to be gentle with myself and be okay with it. I want to know that I matter even when I don’t feel that way.

<3

Dahlia

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

Depressed

I was pretty excited about my Twilight fic, but I'm struggling to write a snappy summary to entice readers. I got a few kudos, but one was my husband.

I think I'm feeling discouraged by the overall lack of engagement. I'm tired of having to 'sell' my work, but that's just how the game works. I think I'm getting really tired of ao3 and posting things.

I originally had a goal of writing a book, but my fanfic doesn't always take off so I don't know if I can really do it.

I'm depressed and lacking confidence and motivation to write. Just finishing my current fic feels like such a grind right now. I just feel like I don't care about it and I just want it to be over.

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

Reflecting on Attraction

I'll be honest and say that I wasn't really able to find white men attractive for a long while. I couldn't even find celebrities like Zac Efron, Robert Pattinson, or Justin Bieber appealing. Growing up as the only Asian American in my class/grade, I felt othered and like an outlier. I couldn't see myself mixing with the white boys around me and I assumed they felt the same way. When I had a tiny number of Asian classmates, I flocked to them and dated them. I wanted to be with someone I felt like I could belong with.

However, bg3 is my white boi awakening. (In my mind, 'white' is said like how Bob Ross would). Astarion is SUPER white. His questline is literally called "The Pale Elf." I honestly didn't see Astarion as attractive at first. I actually thought he was quite annoying because he kept disapproving of every good thing we would do. Regardless, I was drawn to him after he asked for a break from sex, and I was mindblown from seeing that representation. It meant a lot because my husband and I weren't having sex for years because of my trauma. I felt so seen.

I'm ashamed that my second white boi crush is Enver Gortash because he's so ugly in the game. He should be sexy though and he has a sexy voice. I'm pulled to him for all the wrong reasons. He's clearly a manipulating and gaslighting narcissist, but sometimes people are drawn to what they know. I feel the same pull that I felt to my toxic exes. I feel a mix of wanting to put him in his place and submitting to his every whim.

I told my husband that I'm into white men now. He laughed and said that the videogame characters are different. This is probably true, but it's messed up of me that I've only been compelled to write about the white men in the game. Astarion is everyone's favorite white boy, and the only black main character Wyll is tossed to the side. I'm guilty of perpetuating this dynamic in my writing. It just sucks because Wyll is boring in the game. I'll have to write something about him though. And I'm going to make it fucking sexy.

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

Superfan?!

I think I have a superfan and it's quite flattering.

This person liked Taste of Home (my most popular work) over the summer and then three of my emotional one shots. A little over a week ago, they liked Taste of Magic (my most favorite work). Yesterday, they liked Taste of Joy (one of my earlier works).

My works are long and don't always get much traction, so it's really touching. <3

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

My Ranking of bg3 Characters

In order of my eagerness to sleep with them:

Astarion

Enver Gortash (reimagined as hot)

Orin the Red

Minthara

Lae'zel

Shadowheart

Halsin

Nym (one of the drow twins)

Dalyria/Dal (one of Astarion's siblings)

Dammon

There is clearly a pattern here. LOL

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

I’ve been feeling better about writing lately! It might be temporary only, but I’m savoring the good.

I wonder if my super sadness earlier was mainly hormonal since I got the hormonal IUD. 🤦🏻‍♀️ but now when I put up a chapter and get zero kudos I feel indifferent. Like, Taste of Fate only has one kudos (from my husband who read the whole thing), and I’m ok with that for some reason. I might move it to an unrevealed collection though so that I can recycle the sonnets for Taste of Twilight. Damn, those sonnets were good!

Yeah, I just feel good! In spite of my wisdom tooth extraction, I just feel like I’m chillin. In fact, I feel bored. But I’m happy that I started watching TV again. I love watching funny sitcoms that have at least slightly a bit of a wholesome vibe. Yeah, watching TV, I’m like, why would I write when I can watch TV.

I have been getting bored though because I can’t exercise. I have been doing chores but I feel like I don’t know how to pass the time. This week has gone by so slowly.

I wish the grocery store opened sooner so I could buy some snacks.

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

Deciding if I should put up my one-shot...

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

worthless

Sharing fic online and getting little engagement has been bringing out feelings of worthlessness for me. I'm grateful for any engagement I can get, but somehow it never feels enough. It's possible it's because deep down inside, I don't feel enough.

I've been trying to honor my pain lately but it's difficult. I closed my eyes as I lay on my stomach on the floor. I thought to myself, "I am worthless," and I saw myself walking through a dark cave.

Deep inside, I found myself in an open cavern. There was a large, dark, purple cloud whirling on the ground. It was like a menacing storm. I stepped inside of it, and I saw my inner child on her knees cowering in fear.

I rushed over to her, and I saw she was covered in cuts and blood. She cried, "I'm hurting! I'm hurting so much!"

I could feel her helplessness in my heart. I told her, "I'm here."

As I held her, I saw myself absorbing her pain and I became covered in wounds too. My vision became just cuts and blood everywhere. It was terrifying.

Although I felt overwhelmed, I didn't want to run away. I wanted to stay with my inner little girl. I told her again, "I'm here."

Her helpless screams broke my soul. As she cowered, I had a flashback to when my dad spanked me when I was really young. I recalled how powerless I felt in that moment. I couldn't do anything to defend myself as I was repeatedly hit from behind. My cries of pain didn't lead to mercy because I needed to be taught a lesson. I felt wrong. Bad child.

Reexperiencing this moment, I teared up in real life. It's no wonder I'm so desperate to please now. Displeasing the powers above me led to helplessness, humiliation, shame, and pain.

The little girl in me is still hurting. I realize it's going to take a lot of time, love, and patience to ease her suffering.

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

Letting Go

I lost a user subscriber today. :(

Yesterday, I had four user subscriptions and now I only have three. A year ago, I wasn't expecting to have any user subscriptions at all because they're kind of like mini fans who are willing to hear about all of your work. I write A LOT and a upload in mass because I have so many chapters, so my few user subscribers are spammed.

I got my first two user subscriptions when I put up Taste of Home, which is my most popular work. I oddly got two more when I put up Taste of V, which got literally zero subs, kudos, bookmarks, or comments. I took that shit down because I was absolutely mortified... Taste of V was a love triangle with Gortash and Astarion, and I thought maybe people just didn't like wholesome good guy Gortash. However, it's possible the user subscriber that left might have liked it and wanted more? I have no idea and it's impossible to tell. My good guy Gortash fics just weren't getting any traction.

I've been expecting to lose my user subscriptions actually because I'm so spammy. I'm surprised I haven't lost them sooner. I wish I knew who they were and why they're subscribed to me. It's hard for me to tell who they are.

When I lost the subscriber today though, my heart sank because I was already feeling insecure about my most recent work. I closed my eyes and imagined lighting a bunch of candles on a raft and sending it out to sea. It's like I need to grieve even if that was irrational. As I sat at the edge of the water in my mind, I pleaded for them to return in vain.

I write because the process is fun, but I share hoping to make connections across the void even if they're silent. If my stories touch readers in some way, that's a huge success to me. The only way I have to be able to tell if I'm touching people are the stats, and it's not the most fulfilling or accurate means of measuring success.

Sometimes sharing my writing feels so lonely. Ironically, I don't feel lonely in the process of writing because I feel like I can connect with my characters in my imagination. Posting my fics online, I think deep down inside I just want to receive a hug and to be told I matter. But when I worry so much about the stats, I often end up feeling worthless.

I allowed my imagination to wander on this, and I saw myself swimming deep into the ocean. I saw a purple shroud at the bottom and I pulled a rusty metal bar sticking out of it. The more I pulled the more garbage and muck came out and it was all connected together. It was kind of like the moment in Spirited Away where Chihiro and the other spa workers pulled out all the trash from No Face. When I saw all the trash, I thought, "I'm worthless." I threw all of it out of the water and it disappeared into the sky like Team Rocket blasting off again in Pokemon. I felt a weight lifted after, but more recently the weight has returned.

"I'm worthless." I just really feel that in my heart and it feels so heavy. I just want to matter and feel important. I just want to feel loved.

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

oh, my porn is unrealistic?

it's not supposed to be realistic. it's supposed to be fun.

call it suspension of dickbelief.

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

I just updated the summary for Taste of Redemption and I think it illustrates the emotional depth of the story much better now. I was proofreading it and tearing up yesterday and I was like wtf.

Also, I think the Gale/Astarion/Andie love triangle is going to be Taste of Sweetness. hehehe I'm eager to write that, but idk if it will be obvious that I have a strong Astarion bias. Also, idk how I'm supposed to put smut into it. After Astarion gets the girl and constantly fucks her, am I just supposed to throw Gale away?

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

I just finished writing Taste of Redemption! My husband really likes it. I think I'm still going to do a slow upload though. I'm quite satisfied with the ending though :)

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

I finally have to write the stripping scene and idk if I can deliver! Too embarrassed to watch videos for inspiration!!!

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

Envy and Mediocrity

I was feeling envious of a friend today because of their recent success in a typical career path. I hated myself for it, but it was hard for me to be happy for them I because I'm not fully happy with my lack of a real job. My feelings felt so icky, and I sought guidance from my wellspring of wisdom deep within.

From the fountain, a motherly figure arose made from the water. Like before, she held me and told me I was enough. She told me that I was important. She also said that it's okay to be mediocre, and she sounded like she meant it. I was surprised at how genuine she was because I've been pushed since a young age to be the best and to pursue traditional success (money, praise, etc.).

I peered into the water at the base of the fountain, and I saw my inner child peering back at me in place of my reflection. I saw the pain in her eyes, and I felt it in my soul. She too, feared not being enough and she learned that she wasn't from life experience. I pulled her out of the water, and I held her. We cried together for a good while.

I realized that my emotions weren't about my friend's success. They were just doing their own thing. Their good news had nothing to do with me. Instead, my feelings were rooted in pain from the past that I needed to honor and own. In my mind, I held the little girl in me. I told her it really was okay to be mediocre and that she was enough.

As I listened to my own pain, I felt my original feeling of envy subside. Then, I was able to congratulate my friend in a way that was genuinely giving, rather than out of obligation.

[dearlydarlingdahlia]

A New Freedom

One of my recurring struggles is my fear of how my work is perceived. My inner critic has been more vocal in the last few months as I work on my recent projects. I'm actually quite grateful for the engagement I've been getting so far, but the pangs of insecurity still hit hard sometimes.

I don't consider myself a spiritual or religious person. However, I've been trying to be open to the idea of a 'higher power' beyond myself as a source of hope and inspiration. Oddly, I think I've let external factors 'play god' in my life because I'm a people pleaser and I fear rejection. For example, as ridiculous as it sounds, it's almost like I defer to my potential readers as my 'god' as I desperately try to cater to their interests. I bow down and mold my work accordingly. I fear my work isn't enough. I fear that it is 'wrong.' I just want love and to be made right again.

I read somewhere that sometimes people's relationship with 'god' is tainted by their abusive relationships with authority figures. With my past, I can only see 'god' as judgmental, capricious, and angry. I fear 'god' because it makes me feel like garbage. As I project this dynamic onto sharing my writing, it's no wonder I often feel anxious and ashamed in the process.

When I first started sharing my work online, I underestimated how much courage it required to put yourself out there. I also underestimated how fragile I would be in response to lack of engagement and negative commentary.

In therapy recently, my therapist recommended I see my higher power as something amorphous that might not even be a god or person. She suggested that for me, it might help to envision it as a wellspring of wisdom that I have access to.

Today, I felt disappointed about my engagement stats in a way that was really eating at me inside. I hated it because it felt unreasonable because I knew I should be grateful. I closed my eyes and imagined accessing my wellspring of wisdom. I asked for guidance, and the water formed the shape of a motherly figure who embraced me and told me that I was enough. In my mind, I cried in her arms. I realized that all I really wanted in that moment was to be seen and loved. I wanted the care I didn't have growing up and that I didn't feel from 'god' before.

In my mind, I dove into the wellspring, and I swam through the clear water. I imagined I was going down a water slide with many twists and turns. As I slid down the thrilling ride, I imagined that some of my readers were on the journey with me and some flew off. When I reached the end, I felt refreshed. It made me think about how the experience of writing is magical for me and a few lucky others and how that might be enough.

What's interesting is that I've actually been pleasantly surprised by the positive feedback I've received so far on my recent work. I think it's just hard to appreciate it when I already don't feel enough. I want engaging with readers to be a source of inspiration rather than desperation. However, getting my heart to see it that way will take time. I hope I can be patient with myself on the journey. Reflecting like this now, my heart feels warm though that a few people were interested enough in my chaotic arrangement of words on a page. They might come and go, and maybe that's okay.