#but it felt miraculous because of how slay everyone was there I can’t believe that was real

[cartoon-skeleton]

It’s been almost exactly one year since i got a fucking miraculous scholarship to go to Ireland for one semester and I got to live fake life for 3 months in a house with 15 gay art students who all became my very close friends. Two of them texted me today and the group chat still pops off every day but I’m emo cuz idk. Phones aint real….. why are u inside my phone…. come out. I think they should all move to my state and become neighbors with me. anyway… (continues solemnly packing up my belongings in preparation to go back to my evil not fun school where everyone is evil and not fun)

[silverfickle]

Nova dnd logs

Writing some plot from my oneshot dnd campaign! It'll be a string of moments my char experienced.

-----

In front of me, is the following: a talking chicken wearing a knight helmet who just defeated an animated statue monster 20 times his own size with a greatsword that is 3 times his size, a dwarven rogue with a serious face and long flowy river-like beard who idolizes my friend Robin Hood, and a gangly half-orc wizard who’s hand is covered in blood. Well, the wizard is behind me since he’s usually frightful of most things, and only did the blood ritual on the stone altar because of sheer boredom of nothing happening.

“Are you cursed now?” I look behind me to cheekily taunt Greecle. Disgust and cowardice washes over his face and he pleads for me to stop.

After looking around more, it would seem that the only way to proceed forward the subterranean temple was to draw blood on the altar. All that arguing about what to do was futile.

The environment rumbles and the gates lower, motioning us to continue on our adventure. Nobody dares to say a word as Chase takes the lead. The irony isn’t lost on me, we’re following a 40cm chicken because he’s the strongest of us all and the hardiest. That fact will never not tickle me.

Excitement and anxiety stirs in my stomach, this is my first real adventure after all!! All the mystery and treasure awaits with every splashy, watery step I take. I’m doing it, mom!

---

Maybe that bad feeling buried in the last section of my spine shouldn’t have been ignored. I mean, it’s called a bad feeling for a reason, right?

I didn't speak up but deep down, I super hated that we glanced over the ominous prophetic plaque of words before we descended into this damp and rocky abyss. I have no idea why everyone ganged up on Rina about money and didn’t get enough information before jumping head first into the well entrance. It’s as if we raced down for the treasure without putting on our shoes first. (Well, this is kinda true for Greecle… Why doesn’t he have shoes? I can’t imagine sleeping somewhere so cold without covering up my feetsies.)

Everyone else is sound asleep on the first night of our real adventure. But I… ... ! I, Nova, am really sad !!!! Mixed feelings keep piling up inside of me. But putting down skeleton creatures with my bare hands shouldn’t upset me this much right? I’ve seen lots of things in my home forest after all.

I look around and admire the temple, crystals of red and blue softly glint in the dark, faintly illuminating the vast tunnels and spaces around us. The water reflects the hues and bounce the glow around as far as it can reach before stretching itself thin into the darkness. I hold up one of the skelly heads that wasn’t crushed with both my hands and wished for it to talk. “Why wasn’t I charming enough to convey my feelings of wanting to be friends? I could’ve saved all your skelly friends too y’know?” I frown.

Thinking about their cute heads and little swords that they swung against my neck, I wrote in my journal with mom in mind, and a poem before sleepytime.

I hope we get along tomorrow.

Whispers of my regret can’t reach you anymore

Please pass on safely without much sore

Floating in the abyss, the ripples, the splashes

Find salvation or peace after scintillating ashes

---

I have to crane my head up to look at Greecle every time he relays knowledge to us. Despite being a huge troublemaker, he's still a wizard who knows a lot more things about our world than I do. He studied the round plinth and ran around the hall to detect traces of magic to identify and to uncover. He’s super useful but it all goes unnoticed because our team members spend most of our interactions scolding him for his misdeeds. He tells us that the moss covered carvings on the stone plinth that may have lasted centuries make up some sort of calendar.

---

I pout as my sweet sentences get twisted up and interpreted in an offensive manner. There goes my chance to be friends with this fire creature. All I said was that they’re hot as hell, but maybe they’re from the realm of Tartarus and not Asphodel; I shouldn’t be too judgemental.

I try to think of more ways to befriend the creature but I’m instantly distracted as I spot an unconscious body under some singed rags.

Oh no, I have to help.

That was my main objective, my only thought. We didn’t initially agree to a rescue mission but what cycles my thoughts is one word: Survival. The rest seem preoccupied with battle, so it has to be me.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me to the body. It’s sweltering in here, I’m glad I’m wearing shoes. My feet would’ve scorched if I touched this tiled floor, my fire resistance would not have negated the pain. My eyes dart around to examine the person, hoping for signs of life. Chocolate scales faintly rise and fall, carrying a golden undertone, revealing their mighty ancestry and potential.

Ah, great! They’re breathing!

I took out the only healing potion I have to help the dragonborn. I guess we have to defeat this creature if it won’t listen to reason and have already injured this being. I whine mentally.

But a huge smile spreads across my face as the person in front of me springs back up, brimming with life, as if their life force is reignited and flickers equally as bright as the melty lava creature behind us. Their fists clench and their eyes are filled with panic.

A new friend!

---

This is one of those times where my darkvision would burn things into my sclera and instill fear in my soles, bringing forth the imagery of the roiling mass that is a ceiling sea of bats.

I don’t know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.

I can NOT harm these animals, even if we wanted to we are easily outnumbered. But the more time we spend in this room, we will eventually be drowned in this vast sea. The bats won’t listen to us, they’ll continue to chip away at our constitution with relentless determination.

Damn it! Why is this lock so sturdy! My legs are chilled with fear, I hesitate and shiver as I mess up my aim.

The bats, they swoop down and claw us into shreds. Our skin but mere cloth for them to cut up into ribbons and string. All we can do is try to break open this chest and make a run for it. There’s no way we can face this many. We’ll get swallowed up and ground into bones if we don't hurry!

Hurry!

The acid misses.

Hurry!

The arrow misses.

Hurry!

The fists and greatsword connects.

Run!

---

In the magical darkness enshrouding us, a blue flame floats toward me, revealing itself while crackling the air softly with electricity. It reminds me of a quiet forest night watched over by the full moon. Spirits and spectres would come out and wander; some want satisfaction, some want salvation, some yearn for affection from forgotten loved ones or fallen comrades. In those quiet nights, every living being proclaims their existence, they take up space in our shared world with heartbeats or willpower. It's wonderful to be able to leave traces in the soil or the sky. Being alive is truly miraculous!

In this magical darkness, I don't see anything but a living creature that still blazes with life. It might have a past filled with joy, sorrow, frustration; it might still want to take steps out of this black void and write history. I wonder who imprisoned the servants that dwell in these desolate halls, which heartless soul would rob them of their freedom and force them to pointless bloodshed? Who is it that beckoned sturdy adventurers to plunge themselves down here and destined them to reemerge as carcasses to be cut down again? Whatever malevolent being that built this temple, whatever goal they serve, I want to get out of here without bowing down to their insolence on life.

I think about my mom who befriends the earth. Surrounded by warmth and love, she's nothing but being of kindness and nurture. Sometimes I believe she’s secretly an otherworldly guardian that looks after those around her. She wouldn’t let earnest creatures be trampled ruthlessly, she appreciates every little living being and would do anything for the needy. Ah, I miss spending time with her.

I pull out Harper and start playing a soft melody to declare my feelings.

Please let us continue with a bright future. Hear my plea and take in my wish for camaraderie.

Sharp notes from Her Sh’i’s bagpipes intertwine with my light tones. The willowy blues grow fainter and calmer.

I stumble on my words but I try my best to convey to the being that we mean no harm. I smile and sigh out of relief as the appeased creature gently places a token on my hand.

---

Somehow we have managed to take down the god and return it into pieces of bone and dirt. We ended the cycle. Rinah will remain in the temple with the community of reanimated skeletons and figure out a way to turn them back into living humans.

It should have been a triumphant win and we emerge with golden sun rays congratulating us when we climb our way back out to the surface. But it wasn’t. It was windy and gray. Various feelings mix in my belly leaving me feeling uneasy, the feelings I’ve not been able to shake away and will stay with me for a while.

I can’t help but feel swindled by fate, cruel and cunning. If I had known it was the humans who dared to anger Xibalba in the first place, I would’ve tried to appease them. Instead I felt the need to break a curse to save the ‘humans’. How foolish of me.

What’s done is done. I have unwillingly helped to slay a god that once lived to grant blessings for the people. In the same breath, I also freed some trapped souls and no more will unnecessary blood be shed.

I look to my shoulder where Shadow leisurely sits and I smile softly at him when he gazes back up to meet my eyes . At least I have you now, so it’s not a bad ending to this adventure.

Shadow gently boops my cheek, causing some numbness for a second.

I can’t wait to introduce you to mom!

[vestedbeauty]

Guilty of People Pleasing? How to Stop (Even if This Is How You've Survived Until Now)

New Post has been published on https://vestedbeauty.com/guilty-of-people-pleasing-how-to-stop-even-if-this-is-how-youve-survived-until-now/

Guilty of People Pleasing? How to Stop (Even if This Is How You've Survived Until Now)

OK, so, it’s possible that my people pleasing way of life was just coded into me based on the stars and planets. I’m not personally really into astrology but a lot of people I love are. So, I’ve learned that I may be the Libra-est Libra who ever Libra’d. And apparently people pleasing is a thing for us. 

But while I weigh that a bit (sorry, Libra joke), I’m going to go share my thoughts on this… trait? Flaw? Coping mechanism? Well, whatever category people pleasing falls into, let’s take a look.

It’s a Good Thing Puppies Are Cute

She’s nearly four now but Pickle has settled down a whole lot. (I’m currently working through a dog training course with her and the rest of the pack to see if we can end the jumping up on people nonsense.) When she was tiny, she did a pretty good impression of The Very Caterpillar. She ate through our slippers. She ate through our blankets. She even ate through the drywall in a couple of places.

“Pickle, it’s a good thing you’re cute,” we said, about a million times. And it’s true.

It’s the same with tiny humans. They smell bad. They cry and cry and cry. And they leave their parents exhausted to the point they can barely remember their own names. But on the deepest level there is, we bond with them to the point we’d give our lives to save them.

Still, it’s a good thing they’re cute.

In part, a baby’s cuteness is a way of people pleasing. We cannot function or even survive on our own. Our survival depends on our parents being willing to take care of us, even though we offer nothing in return. 

Last One In Is a Rotten Egg!

Fast-forward a few years, and our world expands from our parents and immediate family outward to include friends, teachers, and a whole lot of people we’ve never met. Humans being humans, we start forming smaller groups. 

Like it was programmed into us, we can get pretty ruthless as we sort through the crowd of humanity. Yes to this one, no to that one. We find best friends and second-best friends (remember that?), and we learn how to fit in. 

But we also get some brutal lessons about living in kid society. We discover the pecking order, watching some kids rise to the top of the social order and others fall into a perilous place where they are practically untouchable. 

The permanent rotten egg, the kid nobody seems to like – even enough to defend when human decency demands it. (I still think about some of the kids I grew up with who were socially brutalized, bullied, cast out. I hope they survived and healed, and while I’m glad I didn’t actively hurt them, I shamefully lacked the courage to befriend them.)

In this Lord of the Flies world, kids learn quickly how important it is to gather allies. Perhaps for the first time ever, they grasp the reality that if they piss people off, they will be shunned and thrust out into the cruel world on their own. 

People pleasing becomes a survival mechanism. I believe that’s where it starts for many of us. We learn to walk, talk, and behave in ways that please our cohort enough to keep us safe.

Keep Your Hands and Feet Inside the Ride at All Times

It doesn’t take a genius to realize it’s crucial to fit into the box kid society draws for its members. Fit or face destruction. 

So, we contort ourselves to fit. If some odd bit refuses to fold neatly into the box, we cut it off. Survival demands ruthlessness.

… Got a weird hobby? Not anymore.

… Have a weird freckle on the bottom of your foot? Shoes, forever.

… Freaky smart at some subject or another? No. Get a ‘B’ and live.

… Set your sights on a career that seems a little “extra”? Probably don’t talk about that anymore.

It’s not like that for everyone, of course. And there are pockets of welcoming hearts who’ll accept people as they are, thank goodness.

But I suspect this is when many people pleasers develop their modus operandi. People pleasing can look like:

Having a hard time saying no (or even wanting to)

Feeling gutted if someone’s displeased with you

Agreeing with what others decide because you know you can make anything work

Feeling like you’re responsible for other people’s emotions or experiences

Apologies… so many apologies… for everything

Conflict avoidance at any cost

A persistent craving for praise from others

Inability to admit or express “negative” emotions

Struggling to make decisions that impact other people

This nasty list makes sense when you understand that a people pleaser weighs the safety of every word, step, and choice. It makes even more sense when you realize they may have zero experience moving through the world in any other way.  

When Enough Is Enough

As a young woman, I took all of this to the next level by choosing a very public life as a pastor’s wife for a couple of decades. Pairing my childhood fascination with Emily Post’s etiquette book with the deep desire to be a good example, I had that box’s contents under control. The stakes seemed to be of eternal significance, after all. 

But I learned something huge, courtesy of one of many youth group outings that ended with dinner. It took decades for this lesson to register, but now I can’t unsee it.

“Kids don’t know diddly-squat about what’s good and what’s not good.”

Given the choice between filet mignon and a burger from McDonalds, pretty much every kid in every youth group we ran would choose the golden arches. I could rattle off a bunch of similar examples, but you get it. Discernment comes with age. 

That’s why the nerd gets the girl… later in life. Once we can embrace our greatness, right in the face of a crowd that punishes outliers, we flourish. We can become who we were always meant to be. Not coincidentally, that’s when we also find deep personal fulfillment and a sense of finding and fulfilling our purpose.

Allowing some pre-pubescent ghost from decades gone by to dictate how you show up in the world just seems silly. That whole threat to expel you from society for not fitting in becomes laughable. 

I mean, it’s not even a thing anymore, anyway. 

Who, in the adult world, roams the halls of their home or workplace, shoving people into lockers? What adult taunts someone else about what they brought for lunch – or the fact that person dared to eat when people could see them? And what adult torments another adult for having a passionate interest in an offbeat hobby? 

Ridiculous.

You’re Not the Boss of Me!

I’m half-obsessed with Scotland. Many of my family’s roots start there. I freaking love that place, the music, the terrain, the food, the whisky, the spirit of the people – it’s got my heart. Anderson there is like Smith or Jones in America. The Anderson crest reads “Stand Sure.”

Oh, the irony.

That hit me hard as 2020 came to a close. It was both the best and the worst motto I could imagine. These two words, I’d seen on a crest on the wall for as long as I could remember. But it wasn’t really for me.

Some people, as a new year approaches, choose a word for the new year to embody for them. I chose “Stand Sure.”

It felt dangerous. Like, I knew this was going to impact my whole “tread lightly” philosophy in life. I had absolutely zero ideas about how I’d possibly go about addressing my people pleasing. It was so ingrained in me, like when a surgeon refuses to cut out a brain tumor because the brain has grown around it. Or, like separating conjoined twins. This seemed like something I’d just have to live with forever.

MindFix Did the Impossible

I’ve done some woo-woo stuff along my personal development journey. That includes walking on fire, walking on broken glass, climbing redwood trees and jumping off (harnessed in!) to grab a trapeze, and SO many seminars. They all helped me grow. A lot. But during a long weekend in January, I got to work with the team at MindFix. 

And it changed everything. But only in the areas where I’ve applied it so far (haha – only a few  amazing, miraculous changes!)

Going in, I knew roughly that I wanted to work on this whole people pleasing thing. That’s it. I didn’t know how to even describe it. It felt embarrassing, vague, and permanent. In fact, we never actually discussed it directly. We worked on some other things. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I noticed its absence.

I can’t even begin to explain how Erin and her team do what they do. I won’t even try. 

But I can explain this…

I came to a realization that the SUPREME DIRECTIVE under which I’d lived most of my life… was proclaimed by a little kid. A little kid who’d choose a $.67 mass-produced burger over a delectable filet mignon. 

You Don’t Know Nuthin’ about Nuthin’

That kid did her best to protect me. To her, safety depended on fitting into a box. Anything that didn’t quite fit should be bent or lopped off.

I’d outgrown her in every way. But I was still listening to her, so life apart from people pleasing felt dangerous. I still exhibited most of the symptoms above – and those behaviors were hurting me.

The work we did helped me go after this dragon and slay it. In realizing that kid version of me was just trying to help, but really didn’t know how, it opened a whole new possibility… just being me.

I could see evidence indicating it was safe to shut her down.

I have weird hobbies (drone flying, chicken raising, classic VW ogling, front yard gardening – just for starters). Nobody torments me over that. (I mean, can you imagine how insane that would be?)

My mate and I are flat-out weird (so much ink, in bed by 7, both creatives – and that list goes on). Nobody follows us, taunting us. (I mean, we did get called the perfect insult in the VW restoration world… Billy-Bob shade-tree Chip Foos wannabes – I can’t even tell you how many giggles I’ve had over that pejorative on our YouTube channel.)

Even my work life is strange (I’ve discovered that the way my brain operates is REALLY unusual. Some would see it as a huge plus; others would find it perplexing.) 

And then there’s this one “flaw” that put me in danger of ostracism so much that I shut it down entirely… until I saw it differently and felt safe valuing it.

It’s my capacity to love, like geeking-out, human exclamation point levels of enthusiasm for certain people. (I always gathered that I was too sensitive, too excitable.) That one’s back in play big-time, and it adds incredible joy to my life. Like, one of my favorite things to do is to SEE someone’s greatness and then tell their story in a way that others see it, too.

If This Isn’t Irony…

So, “Stand Sure” is in play. 

Undoubtedly, there’s still a little kid inside, desperately trying to keep me in line by pleasing people. But she sure seems quiet these days.

I did crack up, though, when a colleague mentioned that since the start of the year, I’d really started to own my own value. He continued, “I’m not seeing that people pleasing way you used to show up.” And that… that pleased me greatly.

Who knows what else is possible? The best is yet to come.