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wubwubnparmaham · 10 months ago

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could i ask your pronouns? i talk about you all the time to my friends who i'm advertising love endless to, but i just feel weird if i'm doing it wrong.

It's no secret that i've gotten a barrage of asks like this over the years, and I always shied away from answering them, but I got one after this that detailed out they'd read "Only You Can Be My Alpha" and had picked up on some stuff I was saying there, and then got confused about why my author pseudonym was Marigold Winters, that I decided now was the time to talk about this.

This is as deeply personal as I'll ever get on here.

Answer below:

Only a small amount of people will see this, but I expect that some of the people that routinely ask about it will naturally be included in that group, so I'll speak to you guys directly.

I'm AFAB, I'll start with that. From the years of 2012 to 2015, I was severely sexually abused, day-in-day-out. Truly just, as bad as it gets, and I was a minor, and he was an older man, that somehow had the ability to steal me away from my family and live with him alone in an apartment before I'd even graduated high school. It's irrevocably tied up in the drug abuse I went through in that time period because he was a dealer on top of being an addict, so everything bad was all connected to the same abuser.

When I finally came out of that situation, without fully realizing what I was doing at the time, I wanted to separate myself from every single part of what I was when I was under his oppressive clutches. I didn't ever want to be seen as a girl again, or an object of sexual objectification to the male species. The very thought made me sick. I wanted to be untouchable. My name almost immediately became a dead name, never to be spoken again, because that was the name of the person who had been abused. I cut my hair off, I trashed my clothes, and I got rid of anything that that "other me" was connected to. I quite literally metaphorically killed myself.

Pre-trauma processing, this progression made sense to me because in middle school I was completely androgynous, and I wore boy clothes, and people I wasn't super close friends with used to think I was a boy because I had an androgynous name on top of that, and it used to make me feel good. Correct. I had a girlfriend, and we used to pretend I was her "boyfriend" in private, and I played the male role with her, and there were just so many other tiny details of my masculinity to look back on that I highlighted in my younger years as being "signs"; honestly, some of that was always coming from a very real place, but to say the timing of Jackson had nothing to do with trauma is a gross oversight. To me, though, at that time, it seemed to me that I'd always been heading in the direction of being a masculine-presenting person, even if I had this "big feminine phase" in high school, the timing of which my abuser was around for. Post-high school, when Jackson emerged, it started to feel like I'd been living some sort of lie in all that feminine-presenting "nonsense"; that my true self had always been the boy I was in or thought I was in middle school.

To speak on the name, my absent father had long since made the choice that were I born a boy, my name would have been James, so I went with that at first, but I'd always been distinctly connected to the name Jackson, and it was also the name of my hometown, so I changed it to that super early into being masculine-presenting, using he/him pronouns exclusively and FEELING like I was being entirely true to myself.

I lived this way for a long time, refusing to acknowledge any of the trauma I experienced and what kind of role it had played in me destroying the girl I had been. On top of that, at the same time, I was experiencing a barrage of health complications that came after such heavy cocaine use and the malnourishment that comes from that and concurrent anorexia. Some of you might remember the kidney issues I'd speak of in my author's notes and the surgeries that I underwent, even if I didn't speak on the rest of it. I used writing as a newly-discovered coping mechanism to get me through that tenuous time where I quite literally thought I was going to die (I was close to getting sepsis, and it was just a huge mess), and I had nothing but free time to try to get some of this shit in my heart out. Only You became an allegory for the gender confusion and dysphoria, and Love Endless became an allegory for the drugs.

In 2019, I started going to therapy and doing heavy trauma work, trying to find myself in the aftermath of everything that happened. I started to realize that Jackson was more or less a convenient escape of sexual abuse trauma rather than a truly lifelong truth about me (someone I wanted to be for the rest of my life), and it was incredibly hard to detach from that, but I knew I needed to. I went through this embarrassing "nevermind" period where I deleted nearly every picture of Jackson from my social media accounts, switched all my pronouns back, deleted posts that talked about anything having to do with him, and I never explained a fucking thing. I just didn't have the words. It was, and will forever be, TOO personal to give out the depths of all of that to people that still have to see me in real life from time to time, pft. The questions stopped coming after a few years, and now it's like it never happened, which is wild, but there you have it.

That being said, here in this ao3/tumblr writer world, the very world that I initially (semi-secretly) poured my trauma into and single-handedly used to get me through the aftermath of that trauma in itself, it was like I got land-locked. I was known strictly as Jackson here, because that's who I was when I stepped into this world, and after such a long time of associating me with that name and referring to me as that, I didn't feel the need to "correct" anyone, even when it wasn't the most modernly relevant thing out in the "real world". I still felt a deep connection to the man I had been, and it still felt genuine to remain as that person to an audience who weren't privy to any of these complex nuances behind everything to begin with, and Jackson IS the author of my stories, point-blank-period. I may have edited them non-stop since then, but he wrote the bitches originally, so it just....yeah.

To set the timeline, I detransitioned in late 2019 when I entered university, and I've been feminine-presenting ever since. Many of the friends I have now never even knew Jackson. It's all very surreal to me, honestly. I feel a certain level of "guilt" for not reporting this for all these years, but it's truly just so fucking personal and insane that I didn't know how to broach the subject. My deadname is still dead to me (still working on that trauma-processing aspect of getting my fucking name back), but I go by my middle name now, and it's been that way for the last four or so years, and she/her pronouns are the general standard in my "real" life.

I invite anyone to still refer to me as Jackson if it feels right because there's a part of me that still doesn't want to let him go; that still feels him somewhere in there, always valid and relevant to who I am in my weird ass history, and close to my heart.

But if you really want to know my name (if anyone ever asks—and not my deadname, mind you, but my middle name) I'll tell you.

That said, there IS a part of Jackson that IS still hard to contend with, because there's just unspeakable pain wrapped up in his desperate survival-mode creation, but I lived that way in my life for so long, through multiple relationships, being the boyfriend I thought I was in middle school but in a truly genuine way, that he's still like...idk, real to me? Jackson is inseparable from me, though technically part of my "past".

IT'S COMPLICATED.

I will always go by any pronouns you want to throw around in this universe of tumblr, because so god-damn much of me (every version imaginable) is wrapped up in this account. It's truly a free-for-all. Little known fact, but if you were to scroll down far enough in my page, you'd start to see nothing but drugs and painful shit from before I found one direction. So many versions of myself have been on this account, it's not even funny.

I'm sorry in a way for continuing this double life of sorts, and I didn't have to confess to any of this, but I felt it was time. I'm sorry that I ignored so many thoughtful asks of what my pronouns are, but I just wasn't ready to talk about any of this because of how entwined it was with the darkest of the darkest pain.

I really hope anyone doesn't feel upset by this. I love you all.

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jurinova · 1 year ago

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Hi! I wanted to get in contact with you for a couple reasons. You can feel free to answer this publicly or privately, whichever you're comfortable with, and your welcome to DM me if you need to have me clarify or explain more about the situation.

1, sorry for the spam, and 2, I'm really glad I have finally found your blog, Because I've been looking for a minute now. For starters thank you for unaware and subtle influence to my art style and my own outfit designs, I've really become super into outfit design wayyyy more than I was years ago when I first saw your outfit meme, and better at it two and secondly, one of your outfits was the first set of clothes i ever drew when I was redesigning my first OC from being a fandom and animal character to being more stand alone and human, years ago, and that means personally a lot to me, especially since I'm hoping to make something like a webcomic or animation outta my own characters and story eventually.

Although, to be fully honest and transparent, the reason it took so long to find your blog is because I didn't find your meme through Tumblr, I found it on Google images on Pinterest and lost the image and etc when I moved phones (where I do my art on), and full transparency, I do suffer from some mental health issues and one of those unfortunately means I have a really bad memory, and admittedly, I must of at some point just forgot that I had drawn the outfit from your meme originally and have continued using it? Im actually embarrassed to admit that and I feel awful about using your design for so long before I actually remembered that it wasn't mine or just something I saw someone wear once irl or etc, and I wanted to let you know that now that I am fully 110% aware now, and are older/wiser enough to know better than to use even others outfit designs like it's no big deal and that I wanna do what I can to fix things?

I'm planning on redesigning my main OC, who rn you can see clearly in the outfit on my icon/blog to have a different default outfit, and trying to go back to everything that has the old outfit and give proper credit, but I wanted to ask if there was anything else I can do or etc to help mend myself forgetting the outfit wasn't mine and using it so long without permission/credit. Because as someone who ended up making my own outfit memes, and has had designs and art basically stolen or having others take credit for, I feel awful that I somehow got myself to this point where I was absent mindedly using your design this whole time. Your art and designs are really fantastic and I don't wanna contribute to you not getting that attention/credit as I have been doing, and I feel bad I even forgot that kinda thing in the first place. I'm just glad I woke up and realized that I had basically gaslit myself into forgetting it was your design/one from a meme and not mine, because the last thing I'd want is to continue being a design thief now that I'm aware, and I'm glad at least I caught it before I started making my own comic or etc and had continued doing it.

TL;DR I've been accidentally using one of your outfits designs as a default on a main character of mine for a few years now, unaware I was even doing it because of certain memory issues I have, and now that I am fully aware, I want to deeply apologize and try to fix things and tell you that I plan to stop and change their default attire completely and go back and credit you wherever I can wherever I have used it, and ask if there is anything more I could do to fix this mess I've made?

Hi! First of all: Absolutely no need to apologize for spamming me with likes! That was great, and really made me smile. Thank you for that!

Secondly, thank you for having the courage to message me about a matter like this. Of course, I feel sad to know that my outfits memes are floating in Pinterest and who knows where but that is something many artists these days have to face. The internet culture currently is about sharing and many people don't stop to think about the consequences, and that sharing images might cause problems for artists. Without sources people can't find the right artist or they may not know that the content was not for taking. Obviously I don't want people to intentionally take my designs or art, but I am aware that it can happen completely unintentionally: which I'm sure was the case with you.

So, please don't feel bad about the situation anymore! We all make mistakes, that's just life. The fact that you're choosing not to use the outfit in the future is enough for me. It actually feels great to be an inspiration and to know that my outfits are well liked, so if I can offer any further advice it's this: go forth and design more cool outfits! Be inspired by others but always create something that is yours. When you look at the old outfit on your character, think about what was it that made it seem so perfect for that character. Then take those parts and transform it into something new, something better, something more you. That's really the cool thing about designing, you really get to express yourself and your characters through outfits. It's why I love doing it so much.

I wish you all the best and good luck with your webcomic project! ✨

#asks #askstrangeweird #long post

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i-love-an-alcoholic · 1 year ago

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Devil's lettuce

I used to smoke weed almost daily. I never saw anything wrong with it: it's not considered a hard drug and it has legitimate medical uses. I used to love weed: after all, it causes mild to moderate euphoria and who doesn't like that? However, excessive weed smoking has negative side effects, to which I was completely oblivious until I got sober and gained some perspective.

Weed is addictive.

Not in the same way as cocaine or opioids, but it's definitely habit-forming. After a while you develop a tolerance and will need bigger doses to get the desired effect. Eventually you don't even get high from it: you just feel normal or slightly hazy.

My old pal Shitty Boyfriend was a bona fide weed addict. When he had some he would smoke constantly, he wasn't above theft if he happened to know where your stash was and he absolutely refused to do anything without it. I once tried to get him to go to a buffet restaurant with me, but he refused because, you guessed it, he had no weed ("It goes to waste without munchies!"). When he was out of it he would complain loudly, scrape his bong and smoke that disgusting shit (I don't know the english term for it). He was obese, had the attention span of a goldfish and had no real interests besides weed, video games and junk food. He was also in deep denial about all the negative things in his life: as long as he had benzodiazepines and means to get high everything was fine.

Weed worsens depression and other mental conditions.

I've been on a smorgasbord of antidepressants in an attempt to treat my mental issues. At one point I stopped taking them and tried to treat myself with weed. It didn't go well at all: it didn't make me any happier and didn't treat the underlying cause which was borderline personality disorder. It made my mood swings worse: I'd get irrationally angry and would throw things, slam doors, snap at people etc. I would wake up in the morning sort of hung over, with seething rage at everything under the sun (I once told a coworker to fuck off when she said good morning to me… wonder why I got in trouble at work). Not exactly a herb of peace.

Weed disrupts your sleep cycle.

After quitting all drugs I had insomnia for weeks. I believe this was caused by weed, because I had used it as a sleeping aid for a very long time (to be fair it doesn't help much with amphetamine downs). I found out the hard way why that was a bad idea: only after getting my medications in order could I sleep again. Other thing I've noticed is that weed affects dreaming: I used to have vivid dreams but weed took them away, and they haven't completely returned.

The effects last longer than you'd think.

The stoner stereotype is very much true, and the stoner isn't even high all the time. As I stated in the previous paragraph, I smoked before bedtime. In the morning, after 8-10 hours of sleep I was still hazy, slow and absent-minded, almost like I hadn't slept too well. At work I was forgetful and would make mistakes all the time, despite not being intoxicated. This became my "normal" state, which wasn't good at all. From time to time I would spend a week or two without smoking and would revert back to my old self, but I was so aversive of being sober that I went back to being a stoner as soon as I got the chance.

I cringe at myself when I think about what I did to my brain.

Weed is very much illegal where I live and I don't expect it to be decriminalized or legalized anytime soon. I do support medicinal use and decriminalisation, but I wouldn't go as far as legalizing it. In my opinion it is a drug and should be treated as such, legal or not, and it certainly isn't the health product some people make it out to be. I don't judge people for smoking. Hell, I probably won't say no if I'm being offered some even though I probably should, but I think it's important to talk about the negative side as well, just to help people make an informed decision.

#i love an alcoholic #cannabis #bpd

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sopebubbles · 3 years ago

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Chapter 1

At twenty-two weeks, your baby is the size of bell pepper

<- Master list ->

Chapter summary: BTS return from tour and learn some shocking news about you.

A/n: here's the first real chapter of Serendipity and there's a several month time jump from the intro! I'm very excited about this au, but it's been a while since I've written, so feedback is appreciated! My asks are always open and I'd love to hear from you!! Thank you so much for reading!

WC: 3.6k

Warnings: unplanned pregnancy, talk of being a single parent, family troubles, hospitals and health issues, angst

Following four months of tour the boys were given one week of rest to reacclimate to their regular lives in Korea. For Namjoon and Seokjin that meant spending lots of time with family, with the other guys coming over to see their nieces and nephews, too. For Yoongi it meant mostly sleeping with a little bit of work on new tracks and pending collaborations as well. For Taehyung and Hoseok it was a visit to their respective families and being spoiled by their parents. For Jeongguk it was working out by day and partying by night. And for Jimin it has meant tending to everyone else with a side of deep hibernation.

Jimin was the one to visit Jin and Namjoon's children and shower them with gifts he picked up while traveling the world. He was the one to call Tae and Hobi and pay respects to their parents who have so often treated him like another son. He was the one to make sure Yoongi didn't become too lost in his own little world and to pick Jeongguk up at 2 am before he could get himself into too much trouble. Jimin was always the one to keep the whole family connected. It gave his stressful and hectic days meaning. It kept him grounded.

Their first day back had been one full of meetings at HYBE. With the tour just ending it isn't quite time for a comeback yet, but that never means rest for the world's biggest boy band. There were producers and creative teams to meet with. Schedules to go over and plans to make in preparation for the coming Muster in a few months. It isn't anything new to them, but the day has Jimin feeling like he's on information overload as he walks to his car in the garage. He's ready to go back to the dorm for a stiff drink and a good meal. He isn't at all expecting to see you, even though it is the end of the work day. He'd thought you were conspicuously absent in the Run BTS meeting they'd had just a few hours earlier, but you're only an assistant producer. He's thoroughly shocked to see you moving slowly with your baby bump, and a bit worried to see the look of pain on your face.

"Y/N?" He questions, calling to you across the parking garage, as if he isn't sure it's you. You weren't pregnant last time he saw you, but he'd been gone for several months now. Your head snaps up at the sound of your name and his heart aches when he sees the pain and fear filling your irises.

"H-hi, Park Jimin," you greet him with a wavering voice and slight bow of your head.

Jimin jogs over to you and stands a few feet away. "How many times have we told you to call us by our names?" He laughs lightly.

You force a smile on your face, but it looks more like a grimace. "Sorry, Jimin-ssi," you respond, pressing your hands to your belly and willing the pain in your side to stop.

"You don't look so well," Jimin notes softly. "Are you feeling okay?"

You suck in air and try to straighten up, try to relax your face and push away the pain. "I-I'm okay," you lie. You know you're not okay. You've been in pain a lot today and that's why you're on your way to the hospital right now. You know you probably shouldn't have waited all day but your position in the company has been so precarious since your pregnancy became public, since you couldn't hide your bump anymore. It wouldn't be so bad if everyone didn't know you were single and if you didn't stubbornly refuse to acknowledge who the father of your child is. Your weak facade breaks and you wince as the pain in your side intensifies.

"No you're not. You should probably see a doctor!" Jimin tells you. Truth be told, Jimin doesn't know anything about pregnancy other than what he knows from Jin and Namjoon's wives. But he's pretty sure it's a delicate condition that one should consult a doctor for when in as much distress as you clearly find yourself.

"I'm going now. I'm sure it's nothing though," you sigh. You're not sure at all, actually, but you don't want to admit how terrified you feel. You feel terrified all the time as every day of your pregnancy has presented new challenges you never knew you'd have to face, least of all alone. You turn to continue to your car and leave him, but it's clear you're struggling even to walk.

"Let me take you," Jimin offers, reaching out a hand to gently touch your arm. "I don't think you should drive in your condition."

You scoff. I've been managing to do everything just fine by myself for months, you grumble internally, besides- "You're Park Jimin. You can't drive a pregnant single woman anywhere. Think what people would say."

Jimin merely shrugs. "Whatever they say, we'll tell them the truth. That I helped a friend-" you shoot him a sharp, incredulous look, "a colleague in need. That's all."

"Jimin-ssi, really, I'm-aahhh," you groan and bend forward slightly. Jimin reaches out to steady you and now he won't take no for an answer.

"You're not fine. You need help. Let's not waste any more time arguing. For your baby," he insists and when he puts it like that your resistance crumbles. You follow him without another word as he leads you slowly to his car, an arm wrapped around your back until he ushers you into the passenger seat.

You try to take deep breaths to calm your pain, which is a little better now that you're sitting, and it's nice not to have to focus on anything like driving.

"Is there someone you should call? Someone to meet you at the hospital?" he asks after several minutes of silence between you. The last thing you said to him was which hospital to go to.

"There's no one," you grit out.

"The baby's father?" he asks innocently. He doesn't mean it with any ill intent, but a tense silence is your only answer. You fix your eyes on the city passing by outside. You refuse to see the judgement you assume is in his eyes. Jimin let's the silence continue until you arrive at the hospital. You unbuckle as soon as the car stops, opening the door the second he shifts into park.

"Thanks for your help. I've got it from here," you say firmly before he can unbuckle his own seat belt. "I'm feeling better already, really. I'll see you around, Jimin-ssi." You close the door before he can utter a word of protest, but at least he can see that you are walking more steadily now - not knowing the effort you're putting in. Still, he can't bring himself to drive away, so he parks in view of the entrance and waits, thinking he'll offer you a ride home instead of you having to get an Uber.

You've been inside for well over an hour now and Jimin doesn't think you've come out. He couldn't have missed you. He wanted to text you to see if you're okay, but he didn't have your number and the boys weren't any help. This couldn't wait until tomorrow. Jimin decides to go inside and look for you, so he slips on a mask before sliding out of his car.

You're not anywhere in the waiting room, so you must be back in an exam room, but he asks the nurse anyway. He tells her he's your friend and she tells him that you're being held for observation but he can go see you. Observation doesn't sound not serious, so he hurries through the doors she indicates and down the hall in search of your room. The door is open and you're sitting in bed in a hospital gown scrolling through your phone with a bored expression, propped up on some pillows. You jump a little when you see him.

"Jimin-ssi," you hiss at him. "What are you doing here?"

Jimin invites himself to sit in the chair beside your bed, moving it a bit closer than it had originally been placed. "I was waiting for you, but a lot of time passed and I got worried. I don't have your number to text you."

You stare at him blankly for a moment. You've always known Jimin is a kind, caring person. With his fellow members he's always the first to see when somethings wrong, when they need help. Even with staff he's always been quite attentive but this seems a bit much. The fact that one of the world biggest pop stars is worried about you seems wrong, especially when no one else is.

"Jimin-ssi why were you waiting for me? You should be at home. What if someone saw you?"

Jimin shrugs just as he did before. "I told you it doesn't matter. I'm helping a friend. I couldn't leave you alone." His eyes glance down at your belly. "Is it serious?" he asks before his gaze returns to your face and he sees the uncertainly and worry in your features.

You breathe out slowly. Your instinct is to tell him to go away, to mind his own business. But it's been so long since anyone seem to genuinely care this much about your well-being, and that hits a soft spot in you because for months now you've had no one to share your burdens with. And although up until now you've done a great job of acting tough as nails in front of every suspicious glare from your colleagues, something about the soft worry in Jimin's eyes disarms you and your eyes begin to well with tears.

"I'm not sure. They're keeping us for observation and running some tests. Something called pre-eclampsia, which seems like it's just high blood pressure, but I don't know how bad that is or what I'm supposed to do about it. They said I have to stay at least four hours," you ramble, clutching your phone to try to keep your hands from shaking.

Jimin gives you a sweet smile. "Don't worry. I'll stay with you," he declares and settles into his uncomfortable chair.

"You don't-" you begin but his sensitive brown eyes stop you. "Thank you," you finish quietly.

Jimin's eyes appraise you for a moment, satisfied by how you seem to settle a bit when you realize he genuinely wants to stay to make sure you're alright. Your shoulders relax a little and you sink into your pillows. How has he managed to put you at ease?

"How far along are you? If you dont mind me asking."

You leave your phone down on the sheet and rub your hands over your growing belly. A small smile pulls your lips. In spite of how awful and scary so much of your pregnancy has been, even though your parents have essentially disowned you and your coworkers spurned you and you have no friends or father to rely on, you want this baby. You love your baby already. If you didn't, you could have solved the problem easily. But in the moment before the fear and panic set it, while you still held the pregnancy test in your hand, you felt such a sense of happiness. You'd always wanted to be a mother and whatever the circumstances you would be. However alone you felt, you never would be again.

"22 weeks, er five months," you tell him, since you know thinking in terms of weeks is only something people who are growing babies do. It seemed weird to you at first as well, but you came to realize every week - every day really - was a change, really mattered.

"That's before we went on tour," Jimin mumbles, and you can see wheels spinning in his head that you're quick to stop.

"How was tour? Can you tell me about it?" You ask anxiously. His eyes snap back to yours, filled with curiosity. "I could use the distraction."

Jimin's features soften and he smiles. "We had a blast." Jimin's wide grin is back as he launches into an explanation of his favorite places they visited and how incredible army was every step of the way. He's pleased you've accepted his presence and you let him talk until a nurse comes back to take your blood pressure again.

Hours pass and Jimin just keeps talking with you. He even manages to get you to laugh, which it feels like you haven't done in a long time, at least not with another person. He even tries to get info on the new season of Run out of you, but they've always done that and you keep your lips sealed. It's nice to have someone treat you like a person again.

Finally, the doctor comes back and your blood pressure is taken once again. The doctor frowns as he looks at the lab results in your file. "I'm afraid it looks like we were right. Pre-eclampsia. But it should be manageable if we keep a close eye on it. You need to watch your diet, no salt, stay well hydrated. You'll need lots of rest and avoid stress."

"Does she need bedrest?" Jimin asks and your eyes widen at his boldness in asking your doctor about your health.

"It's not that drastic, not yet. Just don't over work yourself. If things worsen that could be a possibility though," the doctor admits as he adjusts his glasses. "You should monitor your blood pressure regularly and rest if it gets too high. If the pain returns, call us." You nod. "Any other questions?" The doctor looks between you and Jimin. You shake your head. "You're free to go home then I'll have the nurse get your discharge papers."

Jimin waits while you change and helps you slowly to his car. He insists on stopping to pick up some food on the way to your apartment and on helping you all the way to your door. You refuse to let him in, but you almost give in at the scowl on his face from the third floor walk up and how you're clearly panting. You really can't understand why he cares so much.

But Jimin has already sussed out your dark secrets, and aside from being a genuinely sweet human being, he'd always do anything for the Bangtan family.

If his behavior the night before had been a mystery to you, you have no idea what to make of him when he knocks on your office door the next day. You stare at him with wide eyes when he gives you a big grin and a simple, cheerful "Hi!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" you hiss, poking your head out to look up and down the hallway to see if anyone can see him at your door. Luckily the coast is clear.

"I brought you lunch!" he chirps. Your brows knit together before you grab him by the arm and pull him inside, closing the door firmly behind you.

"You can't do things like this!" You tell him in a firm, quiet voice.

"Why not? I heard what the doctor said about needing to change your diet, and I'd bet that you're just like everyone else at this company who overworks and doesn't eat right. So I thought I'd help and I ordered us a healthy lunch." He raises the takeout bag in his hands to eye level. "I thought we could eat together."

Your mouth waters at the smell of whatever is in that bag, your eyes fix on it for a moment, but then you shake your head. "Jimin-ssi, I really appreciate the thought, but we can't do this. You can't come here like this." You look down at your feet. You can barely see your toes under your bump now in spite of the fact that your feet seem to have grown. "People will talk."

Jimin sighs. "How many times do I have to say it-"

"This isn't about the fans or the press, Jimin-ssi." Yow swallow. "I'm hanging onto my reputation by a thread. I'm only still here because I'm good at my job. Then you come back from tour and immediately start," you can't help choking on the next words, "taking care of me. People are going to think…"

Jimin leans his head to catch your downcast eyes. "That I'm the father?" You nod shamefully. "But I'm not."

"Yeah but people care less about the truth than the rumors they can make up."

"Well maybe they wouldn't if you told them the truth. Why won't you say who your baby's father is?" He wonders.

Finally you look up at him only to glare and he swears he can feel actual heat coming off you. "My baby doesn't need it's father. They only need me. And besides it's no one's business," you snap.

"Yeah, you're right. It's your business. But coming clean might be the only way to stop the rumors," he observes. "Besides, we would be able to protect you," he continues when you say nothing.

"We?" You repeat through narrowed eyes.

Jimin swallows. "You know what, let's leave it for now." Jimin walks over to your desk and begins to pull out take out containers. "For today, please just eat with me, so I'll know you're taken care of."

You want to refuse again, but actually you've been putting off lunch for an hour as you're bogged down in work and your stomach betrays you when it lets out a long growl. Jimin smirks and you trudge over to your desk chair to plop down in your seat.

Several minutes pass with you eating together in relative silence. You can't help giggling happily to yourself when your baby starts to kick up inside of you.

"What?" Jimin wonders when he notices your serene smile and the way you're rubbing your belly.

You shake your head, eyes watering just a little, but not enough to make tears fall. "Mochi's been active today."

"Mochi?" Jimin cocks his head and wears a smile you can only describe as smug.

You scoff and roll your eyes. "It's got nothing to do with you, alright? They were the size of a mochi when I found out so I just started to call them that. The pregnancy app says they're the size of a bell pepper now, but it doesn't have the same ring to it. Anyway, Mochi just started to move a couple weeks ago and yesterday they were so quiet. It's a relief to feel them kick again."

"Can I feel?" he asks, reaching his hand toward your belly before he's even finished his question.

You swat him away, but the way his face falls pulls at your heartstrings. Truthfully no one but some of the stylists had ever asked to touch your bump, and you were wary of them. No matter how pushy Jimin's actions might be or how intrusive his questions, you know that he's safe, so you grab his wrist and place his hand on the spot where he's most likely to feel movement. His eyes are blown wide when he feels the kick immediately and he can't help but give a giggle of his own. You watch him for a moment as his eyes remain locked on his hand over your tummy in rapt astonishment.

"Jimin-ssi, why do you want to help me so much?" You can't stop yourself from asking. No one has wanted to help you since the day you found out you were pregnant, except your doctors and nurses, of course. Sure, you've been around Jimin for almost three years now, but you weren't even really friends. So why was he acting like had a reason to be involved in your pregnancy and your life? You half expect him to say he'd do it for anyone, because he is just that kind of guy, or even because you seem like you need the help, both of which are probably true. But he surprises you.

"Hm?" Jimin has to pull his attention away from the little life playing around inside of you. He'd forgotten where he was for a moment, but he sits back in his chair and pulls his hand away as he straightens up. "Listen, Y/N. I think I know who your child's father is," he begins, and you're immediately defensive.

"How could you know?" You scoff.

"Because I know who you slept with 22 weeks ago. And you don't strike me as someone who sleeps around a lot."

Your jaw sets at that. How dare he make assumptions about you. "You don't know me, Park Jimin. You don't know my life. Stay out of my business." You turn your chair so your bump faces away from him now, arms proactively shielding you and your child.

Jimin swallows. "You're right. I don't know you, or what you're going through. But I think I'm right. And I think you need to tell him."

"What's it to you, anyway?" You snap.

"For one thing, he should be held accountable for his actions for once, especially for something like this. For another, if I'm right, that baby of yours is my family now. And I care a lot about my family." Jimin stares at the side of your face for a long moment, waiting for your reaction, but you stubbornly stare at your computer screen in silence.

"I want you to leave," you finally say. Jimin nods and wipes his mouth with a napkin. He knows he's pushed too far. You must have your reasons for not wanting the truth to come out, and he doesn't have to convince you today. He packs up what's left of his lunch to take with him.

"Make sure you finish your lunch. Little mochi is hungry," he grins before letting himself out of your office.

@halesandy @burningupp-replies @lilacdreams-00 @minclangyyy @yoongiofmine @yonkimint @wholockian1 @cbgdoll @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @armytwist @hwayne2294 @aurel1ia @n4mina @juju-227592 @mickmoon @yoongicenterofmyuniverse @likeshatteredrainbowglass @softforpj @chimchimsauce @arikimtanapon @outro-kook @ellesalazar @somewhereinthestarss @cscam @svgahigh @bbl32 @tea4sykes

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artemis-fowl-incident-report · 3 years ago

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Parenting of the Fowl siblings

Inspired by @orangerosebush's dissection of Artemis and Butler's strange child/parent relationship, I started reflecting on the relationship between Artemis, Myles, and Beckett to their own parents and... I've been angry every since. This is basically my rant about how they failed their children.

Artemis

It's made pretty clear at the beginning of the series that Artemis doesn't have... the best relationship with his parents. His father is described in rather distant and cold terms (rather befitting, given he was missing in the arctic), and his mother is dealing with severe mental health issues, which means Artemis has to take on a more care based role in their relationship. As the series progresses, however, we start to uncover aspects of their dynamic before the events of the books, back when Artemis had to make appointments to see his father.

The Fowl parents parenting strategy at this time seem to be "All the rules". As the Time Paradox says (chap 1, p14) "His [Artemis's] childhood had been a time of order and discipline". This was a time where his father was shaping Artemis to the be the perfect little heir for their criminal empire, forcing this child into a very ridged mould he was always going to be too small for. And being a child, Artemis thought that was what he wanted to be, because he was given no other direction to follow. Yes, he's good at crime. Yes, he enjoys it. But he wasn't given much of a choice either way. And because his father was mentioned to be absent from the home a lot, even before his disappearance, and all they'd talk about is business matters when he returns, Artemis learns to associate affection and monetary gain.

Artemis is also, in a way, informed that he will never truly be a good person, since crime and criminal acts are the only thing set to define him as a person, and his legacy in the world, and the psychological repercussions of that are evident all the way through the series, from his questioning his own morality and evaluating what that means, to his near constant atonement for things he's done wrong.

Meanwhile Angeline is doing very little to stop this, or at the very least we don't hear any anecdotes where she tries to give Artemis that freedom that he's not receiving from his father. It's sort of evident in the way he addresses her. "Mother". Strict and formal. Something they used as a term of endearment for years, and that Artemis was comfortable with, until it suited Angeline, at which time she more or less goes on a mini campaign to make him feel bad about it.

And so, when his father disappears, Artemis carries out what he's be trained to do. Crime.

Then, when his father comes back The Rules Change. Because Artemis Sr has a change of heart, arbitrarily switching his moral compass, he invalidating everything Artemis has worked so hard for in order to gain his approval, and get him back. He invalidates the years of Artemis training himself to be the perfect son, of hurting himself and others to achieve his goals, of doing exactly what he was told to do by his father!

And instead of communicating about it honestly, reassuring Artemis that this is truly how things are going to be from then on, they simply tell him what to do again without taking his feelings, and his active trauma, into account. When Artemis Sr first wakes up and announces this revelation of wholesomeness, Artemis just thinks its down to his "good mood" at being alive, or the fairy magic in his system, and that he'll "soon return to his usual gruffness" Eternity Code (chap 3, p86)

Indeed the way Artemis describes his father throughout that entire section in the Eternity Code is much like how one would describe a changeling, left by the fairies in someone else's place.

"I could not believe what I was hearing. One of my most persistent memories was of Father repeatedly quoting the family motto, 'aurum potestas est' - 'Gold is power'. And now, here he was, turning his back on the Fowl principles. What had the magic done to him?" - Eternity Code (Chap 3, p87)

And, worst of all, Artemis has no idea if they'll be any consistency in it, because Fowl Sr has never been around Artemis long enough to show him consistency in the past, so he's afraid. And what do scared children do? They act out, or return to previous patterns of behaviour that made more sense to them. Aka Crime.

All the while Angeline repeatedly uses emotional manipulation and black mail with Artemis, in order for him to do what she wants. There are occurrences of it The Eternity Code, The Opal Deception, and The Atlantis Complex.

"Angeline Fowl played her trump card. 'Well, you know, Arty dear, sometimes people are not who they think they are.'

This was a none-too-subtle dig at Artemis for mesmerizing his parents" The Atlantis Complex - (Chap8, p217)

Angeline is actively making Artemis feel bad about traumatic events and his reaction to them, as a child wanting his parents to not be in pain!

Both parents prove more than once that their love is conditional upon obedience no matter how much they say otherwise, or at the very least this is how they make their children feel. We often forget that, through the entire series of books, Artemis is a child. A brilliant child, yes, but a child non the less. With that context, everything else seems all the more heart breaking.

The Twins

Myles and Beckett, on the other hand, were raised pretty much the opposite to Artemis in what I'm deeming "Free Range Child Care". They were allowed to do and be pretty much anything they wanted, something Artemis reflects on in the books:

"The twins charged in here [their parents bedroom] at all hours of the day and night, flinging themselves on the four-poster bed to wrestle with their protesting mother and father. But Artemis had never experienced that" - Time Paradox (Chap 1, p14)

This has its benefits. Children raised in more hands off environments tend to be more independent, and the twins seem to have a better relationship with their parents on an emotional level than Artemis.

However, problems start to show in this parenting style when the events of the Fowl Twins comes about.

Firstly, there is no doubt in my mind that Beckett is somewhere on the neurodivergent spectrum, as he had all the hallmarks of someone with ADHD. But, away from that, it's clear Beckett needs help with certain behavioural elements. He has no sense of danger, he has issues retaining invisible information (aka information that is theoretical, or does not have examples immediately in front of him), he struggles with reading comprehension, memory issues, and a short attention span. This kid would get absolutely destroyed in a typical school environment. And what do his parents do? Learn Mindfulness, not for Beckett, but to "cope with Beckett's behaviour".

What?

They don't try to help Beckett in seemingly any way. They just shrug their shoulders and be all "well that's Beckett for you". Who does that help? No one. It's not addressing the problem, nor is it helping Beckett learn to do better by himself and others in the long run. It's like covering an open wound with duck tape. It's still bleeding, it's not the right tool for the job, and it's gonna be more painful once you eventually have to remove it.

And Beckett obviously feels the affects of this:

"Beckett shook off the Pixel's small hands. 'They'll say what everyone always says when I know something and they don't: You're wrong Beckett. Leave the thinking to Myles, Beckett. You're the dumb brother, Beckett. Animals can't talk, Beckett Fowl, and, even if they could, they wouldn't talk to you because you're the stupid twin." - Fowl Twins: Deny All Charges. (Chap 6, p113)

And what's the one thing that neurodivergent kids respond to as a rule? Stability. Something the Fowl parents seem incapable of providing.

After years of being hands off with them, there's no basis for communication, or healthy patterns of time spent together in this family. Simply put, these kids don't have a dialogue with their parents. Both Angeline and Artemis Sr are off somewhere else most of the time, meaning the kids learn to be self reliant. As a result, when they start getting into dangerous situations, they don't tell their parents. Why would they? There's never been any consequences for their actions before. And if the parents just start imposing rules on them out of no where, they're simply not going to follow them, because they don't have any concept of what a repercussion will be after.

And this all comes to ahead in the second book, were the infamous "Wrist Bump Promise" happens, where Artemis Sr forces the twins to use a wrist pump promise to say that they won't try interacting with the fairies again. Let me repeat, Fowl Sr uses a coping mechanism that the Twins developed as a means of trust between the two of them, which was a central point of how they cope with a lot of the traumatic experiences they went through in the series, and used it as a tool of obedience. It's an abuse of authority, and trust. No matter what Fowl Sr's motives are, driven by love or not, that's not okay.

All the while Angeline is in another room, smiling and polite, taking away the main means of protection her sons have against the very real threats they are still facing, aka Lazuli, whom she is specifically using her motherly kindness as an insipid weapon. She is removing not just their protector, but their friend, same with Whistle-blower.

And at the end of it all, they were wrong, not just on a parenting front, but on a logical front. Their children were still in danger, even as Artemis Sr and Angeline were forcing them to comply with things which they thought would make them safe. The kids had to solve their own problems, behind their parents back, blatantly skirting around their rules, and putting themselves in more danger than if their parents had been supportive and asked them "what do you need? How can we help? How do we solve this problem together".

All this means is that Myles and Beckett don't learn to come to their parents when things go wrong. They just learn to hide things better. Instead of opening up a judgment free dialogue, with unconditional love and support, they make it clear that if the Twins come to their parents when they mess up, they will get punished for it

Artemis Parenting his brothers

We don't get much of Artemis in the Fowl Twins (sad Gaby is sad about that). But what we get proves that Artemis is doing a better job than his parents at raising his brothers, even from space.

From his small video message in the first Fowl Twins book, Artemis does all the things that his parents should have been doing the entirety of the series.

1) He sets up a support structure for them, gives them all the information they may need free from judgement.

2) He trusts them to be intelligent and wily enough to solve their own problems, but makes it clear that their first priority should be their safety.

3) He gives them resources they can tap into if they get too over their heads, saying to call him if they need help or if they want to talk about it afterwards because in his words "I do worry".

If anything, Artemis is excited for them, because he trusts in their independence and the possible benefits that could come with this adventure for them as people (I mean, he knew they were gonna get up to some BS while he was gone, they're Fowl's. It's like a genetic predisposition. Something their parents really should have come to terms with for their kids sake)

In conclusion, the Fowl parents are just... No. And I, for one, can't wait for the day Artemis comes back to earth and takes custody of his siblings until his parents start showing signs of real change.

#artemis fowl

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bullyhunter--69 · 4 years ago

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"She's so sweet, really."

Pairing: Izuku x fem!reader

Summary: When you and Izuku started dating, you were as happy as could be. He was beyond sweet and caring, and helped you forget about the bad in your life. But after he introduces you to his mother, Inko, and you start to be a more frequent visitor at the Midoriya household, you realize it's starting to take a bigger affect on you than you thought it would. Why can't your mother be like that?

Tw: mentions of family issues/absent family/family death, bottling up emotions and eventually breaking, a stressed Izuku, ends with soft fluff

A/N: This turned out so much longer and more angsty than planned but I'm really proud of it, tell me what you guys think! 🖤 (This is also my first ever angst written so--)

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Today was a beautiful fall day. Colorful leaves fell around you, the sky was tinged with a deep orange, and the soft grass beneath you made your time all the more comfy. You were snuggled next to Izuku beneath a huge tree on campus, who was currently going on and on about his latest quirk findings. The goal you guys originally had set was to review for the upcoming test, but the topic quickly shifted to Izukus day once your fingers intertwined with his and you inquired about it.

"-and so then once I asked Mr. Aizawa about it I found that- Hey.. are you okay (Y/N)?" You really were listening, but had found that you zoned out. Izukus concerned, soft voice brought you back to reality, and a small smile crawled it's way onto your features. "Yeah 'zuku, I'm all good.. I just was thinking about some stuff and was focusing on your voice. It always helps." You ended your reply with a squeeze of his hand, which all together resulted in his face blooming into a shade of deep red.

"Well, uh.. T-thank you, I'm happy to help!" He stuttered out as he felt butterflies all throughout his body. "Oh, also!" Izuku started, turning his body to face you more, holding your hands in his lap with a nervous look in his eyes. "(Y/N), I was wondering.. we've been together for a bit now and I.. I want my mom to meet you."

As soon as the word 'mom' reached your ears, you tensed up. It was always a sensitive topic, even if it wasn't your parental relationships in question. You knew Izuku had noticed, as the hold on your hands got tighter. "I understand if you're scared or nervous but I know She's gonna love you! She already says you're really pretty and smart just basing off what I've shown her.. she really is looking forward to it, and we don't have to stay long if you don't want to." The gentle rub of his thumb on the back of your hand and the puppy dog eyes was enough to soothe your nerves. If Izuku talked so highly of you to her, and if she was anything like him at all, you figured it wouldn't be that bad to meet her. She would be your mother-in-law someday, so you might as well get it out of the way now and not later.

When the day finally came, you were beyond nervous. The thought of meeting Izuku's mother and her not liking you made a wave of sickness and dread fill every inch of your body. Whether it was a friend, or a boyfriend, meeting mothers always gave you a bad taste in your mouth. It brought back all the feelings that you tried desperately to hide away and fight daily.

See, you were almost fully open with Izuku, but there was one thing he didn't know. Your family, to put it bluntly, was shit. Your mother always belittled you for every single little action you ever made and everything about you. Nothing was ever good enough. As a small child, it was always under-the-table, backhanded compliments with passive aggressive undertones, but after the passing of your father, it turned into raw, brutal words. She was never proud, and never actually loved you, she just used your desire to be a good daughter against you. It was cold, hard, manipulative behavior which resulted in you finally refusing to talk to her after you got accepted into U.A. The mental gymnastics you had to go through to hide all of this, especially from Izuku, was taking a toll on you. You never talked of family and never left the dorms, and had an.. unusual amount of luggage stored away in your room. It seemed like you packed your entire life up in a suitcase and ran.

Which is essentially what you did.

As bad as it sounds, you never planned on telling your love any of this. You just needed to forget all of the childhood trauma you were put through and focus on showing your mother she was wrong. Everything she said about your quirk being useless, to you being intolerable and a bad daughter, would be proved wrong. But, the biggest thing you planned to show her? Is that your father would be proud. She always used him against you, and you'd be damned if you wouldn't prove that point the most ridiculous of them all.

A soft knocking on your dorm brought you out of your deep thoughts, and your gaze slid to the door. Your hands shot to your face and you quickly dried your tears. "O-one second, I'm still changing!" You knew in the pit of your gut that it was Izuku coming to pick you up, and your thoughts were confirmed when you heard him on the other side of your locked door. "Alrighty baby, take your time!" God, he sounded so sweet.. this was hell keeping from him, but it kept him from worrying.

The night went on so much better than expected, and it genuinely surprised you. You had never met a woman as sweet as Inko was. She cooked your favorite food and had your favorite drinks, and even baked you your favorite dessert. She asked about how you were doing in school and once the topic of your quirk was brought up, she was beyond ecstatic to hear you talk about it. She even added on how she felt it would be useful in battle. The night was amazing. Nothing felt real, it all was like the fantasies you made up while lying in bed at 4am sobbing, so sleep deprived you almost can't move to get ready for your class that starts in just a few hours. It's what you've always wanted in a mom-- a beautiful, sweet woman who cares.

Why can't your mother be like that?

As the weeks went on and Izuku kept inviting you over for weekly dinner and game nights with him and Inko, you found it harder and harder to conceal exactly how much your mental health was struggling. Yes, you absolutely adored both your loving boyfriend and his equally loving mother, but it was just so fucking.. hard. Every smile she gave you, the loving, motherly twinkle in her eyes when she talked to Izuku, the amazing dinners, the endless support for both of you, the pictures she insisted on taking of you and Izuku-- it was all too much. You started to dwell on this every single night, and resent yourself for how much anger and jealousy you felt. This wasn't right, but you couldn't help it. It wasn't your fault that your mother hated you for every fiber of your being and Izuku had the best mother imaginable. He was your boyfriend, you should be happy.. right?

You didn't realize how hard you had been sobbing until there was a hushed yet firm knock on your dorm door. The tears that blurred your vision made it even harder to read the clock on your nightstand through the pitch black room you sat in, huddle up in a pile of blankets, All Might plushies and Izuku's hoodies.

9:54 p.m.

The pain that was radiating through your torso from the wreck you had become from however long you had actually been crying was torture. It felt like needles were being shoved into your lungs and your heart was being squeezed in a vice grip. Breathing felt impossible. Your throat was raw. But the thing that hurt the absolute worst, out of everything?

"(Y/N)? Baby, please let me in.." Little Izuku's voice sounded like the biggest bomb going off, the jiggle of your door knob making emergency alarms go off in your head. There wasn't any possible way to get out of this, and this might just be your biggest fear. Facing those soft emerald eyes and that sweet smile that has been open and honest with you over the entirety of your entire relationship, and even before. Telling the love of your life all the trauma you've endured, and then willingly decided to hide from him. No.. it's the disappointment that you're positive will shine through his features that's truly your biggest fear.

You don't know how long he had been listening, but one second was more than enough for you to know Izuku wasn't going to leave. He loved you endlessly and never left without making sure you had a smile on your face. So, with limbs that felt like cement, eyes that felt as if you were crying spikes, and an aching heart, you got up and made your way to unlock the door. It took a minute-- your hold on the cold knob firm and extremely hesitant.

3... 2.. 1.

Finally, Izuku had enough room to gently push your door open, and his breath was taken away when he saw you as the golden light from the dormitory hallway illuminated your entirely wrecked appearance.

Bloodshot eyes, make up filled tears streaming down both checks, snot dripping down to you mouth. The cuffs of his hoodie that covered your shaking body were soaked in black, wet mascara. Your hair was messy and tangled. You were.. broken.

After taking in every little detail of your appearance, a struggled gasp last your body when his arms were suddenly around you. The touch of his warmth around you was electrifying, and instantly brought you to your knees. As Izuku shut and locked the door behind him, still holding you in his strong arms, he sighed softly. "What's wrong?"

These are some of the only words that you really didn't want to come out of his mouth. They stung and tore through your heart like the sharpest of blades. They made you regret not opening up sooner, his tone overflowing with worry, fear, and dread. You knew not to make eye contact, but you couldn't even if you wanted to. Once those words entered your ears, soft and delicate as if you would shatter into a million pieces if he spoke too hard, another strangled sob was unleashed out of what felt to be your core.

"S-she's just so sweet.." Your voice, although strained and crackling, came out with an emotion Izuku had never heard from you before. A mixture of jealousy, rage, disappointment, and disgust is all he could pick out, but it sounded like something was hidden beneath it all. Something that you didn't know how to express, so emotions just came seeping out of you in the easiest way.

Picking you up was an easy task, as your body had long ago given up the fight to stay standing. The sweet boy made his way to your bed and sat with you cradled to his chest, your nose tucking away in the crook of his neck instantly to breath in his scent. It calmed you-- he calmed you, but you couldn't help but to shamefully pull your head away and look across the room.

"(Y/N), you have to tell me more. Who is 'she'? I want to help you.." His voice still held a delicate tone, his fingers combing through your hair with one hand and the other still holding you tightly. After what seemed like forever of Izuku just holding you and letting you cry every single ounce of emotion you held in your body out, your sobs slowly came to a stop and you took a soft, shaking sigh.

It was time to come clean.

"'Z-zuku, I'm sorry.." You started, slowly and steadily while trying to steady your breath further. The gentle back rubs from his warm hands helped sooth you, and gave you the strength to continue.

"I haven't been exactly.. truthful with you." As you took a second to find your words and sniffle, you could sense Izuku tilt his head to the side curiously. "You always ask if I'm okay-- if I'm happy-- and I always say that I am. I love you so incredibly much and you do make me feel happy and safe and welcomed and-" Your ramble was cut off with a kiss to your temple, which was a silent signal of Izukus trust and time.

"Because of how incredibly happy you make me, I dont want you thinking that this is your fault at all. Its mine.. I shut you out and bottled myself up when I should have just told you in the first place. I just.. don't know how to say it other than to say it outright."

Your shakey tone made Izukus heart race even more. He was staying calm and supportive on the outside but on the inside, he was a wreck. He was currently going over every single one of his actions, words, and notes that made what you and him were-- absolutely scraping the bottom of the barrel for anything and everything he could have done wrong. That stuff, though, was shoved deep so he could help you, because that was what was important right now.

"I don't.. Izuku, I love you and I love your mother so incredibly much. I feel at home with you guys but it's just so hard. Seeing how sweet and caring she is, how She's invested in both of our lives, how she.. s-she said she loved me.." You body was quickly starting to shake again, so Izuku pulled you in closer. "Why can't my mother be like that?"

There it was. It finally clicked in Izuku's mind. Everytime you avoided the topic of family, how you never had pictures with them, how you never had a place to go to during break, how every day after spending time with him and Inko you seemed drained the next morning as if you had stayed up all night.. it clicked as to what might be wrong, and his suspicions were confirmed when you continued.

"M-my mother hates me and she has my entire life. I have never received an ounce of love or respect from that filthy woman and it's always on my mind. Her degradation and her mocking laugh and her hideous presence. She used my dead fucking dad against me to make me feel like I'd never make it in this world and I just-- I-I want to escape the horrible memories but I can't. I just want a mother like yours.. it's what I've always wanted and I don't understand why I had to be the one stuck with a dead dad and a mockery of a mother. Seeing how absolutely amazing your mom is fills me with love and happiness and a sense of home I've never gotten before but at the end of the day, it just reminds me of how shitty my life was up until I got to U.A. I don't have a mom. I don't have a home. And its not fair that I'm upset over the fact that you having those things happens to remind me of that. I'm sorry."

Izuku was speechless. His comforting ministrations had stopped and he just looked at you. Even with the pitch black void that was your room, his emerald eyes shined bright.. and brimmed with tears.

"I.. I had no idea, baby, I'm so sorry.." Izuku was choosing his words incredibly carefully. He held nothing against you, nor was he upset or disappointed at you. He was a person that could put himself in someone else's shoes very easily and see through their eyes, and your emotional monologue was enough to paint your story for him. He just wanted to comfort you and show you everything was okay.

"I don't want you to be sorry, there isn't any need for you to be. You can't help what your mother put you through, and how horribly unfair to you that it was. Nobody can control how others actions affect them-- it's just how humans are.." Strong arms turned your body to face him, your limbs wrapped around his torso and your cheeks gently held in his hands. As tears streamed down his cheeks, he stared deep into your eyes. "You're so strong and beautiful, and I understand as much as I can. I love you so much.. Baby, to hell with her. I know it's hard, but she doesn't have to mean anything to you anymore. Me and you, and mom, can be our own family. We're your home now.."

A sob managed to choke it's way out of your throat, but this one was different. Your head fell into Izukus neck and you held him as tight as you possibly could, soaking his chest with more snot and tears. His arms held you back just as tightly as he peppered soft butterfly kisses along your hairline. This is how you stayed for the rest of the night until you calmed down and passed out on his firm build. Laying back softly, Izuku tucked you both in and kept his tight hold on you.

"Goodnight, love.. You're home."

#bnha scenarios #bnha smut #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha angst #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #bnha izuku #izuku #izuku smut #my hero headcanons #my hero academia #my hero imagines

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poormeowmeowcollector · 4 years ago

Note

So you headcanon Loki as being autistic? I'm not autistic but that's the most pure hearted headcanon I've ever seen. As someone with mental disabilities, I relate to Loki like no one else and really adored one of your rants about how ableist the fandom is. So many Loki fans have trauma/mental health issues/ struggles/ect and Loki's so important to us. I'd rather see him like he is now instead of dead and it's heartbreaking when I see those who wish him dead. It's ok to prefer Loki from a different era but wishing him death is just really hard to see. Bless those who have different opinions but don't bully others who don't share them. Thank you for all ur words. I was curious if you'd give my insight to your headcanons of Loki being autistic? 🥺

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. The thing is, I've been raised in a very conservative area and I recently came to realise that I've been masking for too long and have been a victim of ableism from both my school and my family. So, I really just use Loki to cope and heal and I'm glad it helps others as well.

Loki and Thor are Autistic, actually. They just have different traits

Thor's autism is a type more tolerable on Asgard, a thing based on Odin's favouritism that also harms Thor since he doesn't get help when he needs it

Loki's autism, however, is not as acceptable.

He has had to deal with isolation and ableism from a young age, which didn't help at all

They were considered weak and unable to fight because of their traits, Frigga decided to help them even it out with magic

Magic became Loki's special interest and his passion with it only made him stronger and a better user, until he reached the title of master at the youngest age anyone has.

They have very sensitive senses, so they cover with layers to avoid being touched and cast spells to tone down sensory input all the time

He has used illusions to appear at a social event without being there so he can avoid a shutdown and not be absent. Multiple times, in fact

Loki hasn't been able to understand social norms but they have studied it the same way someone studies history and know how to act. It often appears fake and lacking emotions, since Loki doesn't get the meaning behind the norms enough to mimick that as well, which only makes the liar and manipulator label more clear

Loki still masks because he will get it worse when not masking, even though this makes him exhausted and usually leaves him burned out for hours or days. His recharging periods only make him appear antisocial.

After the battle of New York and while imprisoned, Loki was on a constant shutdown, trying to recover from all the events back to knowing they're adopted. It was one of the worst periods of their life.

Just after he recovered, Thor took him on Earth.

At first, it was a torture

Everything was too loud, too bright, too crowded, and Loki's mask was rusted and failing. They quickly retreated to their room.

Probably because of the adjustment and the stress, shutdowns were even more frequent, and Loki had to hide away and suffer in silence. Until Tony saw him during one.

After it was over, these two had a very long chat (Loki was mostly typing since their voice was gone) about Loki's needs.

It was really the first time Loki spoke about them and didn't get mocked. Tony was just asking and suggesting solutions and things he could do to make the tower accessible.

He did it the very next day

Soon enough, Loki started interacting with the others without the mask. They barely even recognised this newer and more authentic Loki.

The exception was Thor, he recognised easily that Loki, remembered him from when they were little.

Loki's social stamina got better, to the point where they would spend the day in common rooms and hide only on particularity bad days.

The shutdowns grew less frequent, he would speak more, show expression when he felt like it, move his hands around while speaking. He just looked much more alive than in centuries

Then, Peter came

At first, their interactions were okay. Then Peter saw Loki do a small spell

And asked how magic works

I shit you not, Loki's eyes became so anime like and they fucking glowed.

Loki proceeded to talk about magic for hours, and Peter was growing more and more interested by the second

They soon became best friends

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying @twhiddlestonsstuff @kozkalovesloki @thewindandthewolves

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warabidakihime · 3 years ago

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rant below. might delete later but feel free to share your thoughts ;~;

am i an asshole for not feeling as bad as i should for my mom's current health issues? she's been going to the hospital for several tests and treatments, and while i do feel bad, i also feel quite indifferent because of the emotional trauma i went through because of her. (because of my family in general, to be honest.) there were times when i needed emotional support, but she was absent, and most of the time she invalidated my feelings. one time, i collapsed right in front of her, but she didn't do anything. heck, she didn't even turn around to check up on me. her usual reasoning is i don't have the right to complain as she had it harder.

she has always been like that towards me. idk if i'm overreacting, but looking back now, i can feel some sort of jealousy or animosity from her. when i was younger, she would lash out at me for no reason. like, i'd just woken up and i was trying to strike up a conversation with her, but she replied so snarkily at me. since i noticed that pattern, i stopped initiating conversations with her unless it's very necessary. she treats me like trash and yet she expects me to help her and the household financially. tbh, i don't want to but i don't really have a choice right now as i can't afford to move out and, as much as possible, i want to avoid renting. if feasible, i want to save up for a humble residential lot and build my own home so i don't have to worry about monthly dues. i hate the uncertainty that comes with renting, so i want to avoid that. we lost almost all our properties before due to debt, and i've been traumatized by that.

nothing, im just feeling kinda icky right now because of her lol. i asked her this afternoon if there was any food (because if there wasn't, i would cook my own) and she answered sarcastically. like bitch, im working really hard here and this is what i get in return? hhh i'm so upset lol. and when she came back from the hospital, (or every time she comes back in general), i would notice how she would emphasize her discomfort like- 'i'm in so much paaain. feel bad for meee.' ah, idk what i'm saying anymore lol

#wbdk rambles #sigh

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dredgenridge · 5 years ago

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I am desperate to leave the living situation I am in. I need help. I have tried other place in the past and not a budge. It's a stretch for me to try here. It's a hit or miss deal.

I am 21 years old, working 40+ hours a week with $10 an hour, no vehicle* and I am living with my homophobic family. This has been my life for a while now in this broken down house, literally. I'm in hell.

I do love my job and the family I work but 10 and hour doesn't cut it to live on my own. I hate asking money from them because they have treated me so well in the past. I always feel guilty asking. (This family has gave me gifts amd money to help me get items I need like the special boots I had to order. I need to replace them since they are beat up but they were not cheap for me and work helped me.)

These are the KURU Boots they helped me get because I work outside all day and I am on my feet. I have had these for around six months but they are done. I need to buy a new pair of KURU shoes but I am holding off for at least a few more weeks. (I have plantar faciatis. Work has worked around that fact with me.)

Before you ask, I have tried to do another job, ended up quitting because it was too much to go from outside retail (from 8am-6pm depending on what day it was) to a restaurant (on weekend nights) and didn't get to go home til around midnight a few times? (and for them to ignore some of my notes on my resume about my mental health? I was not going to stay so I quit there and continued to work at my current job.) I have applied for other part time jobs and got one call back but couldn't make it and asked to be rescheduled and they say' "Yes. We can do that." Then that time comes and never get another call?

*In April, it will mark two years my own vehicle has sat in the yard. TWO. YEARS. I do, however, have someone coming Friday night (Mar 13) to look at my truck and then return Sunday afternoon to work on it. So I won't be vehicleless too much longer, hopefully. I've seen his work but I am afraid to be screwed over because I have issues with that. I am always scared since I have been screwed over before.

That truck is my golden ticket outta here.

I am the only LGBT+ person in the house. I know my family is homophobic because they wear it proudly on their sleeve. I have heard their vile bullshit. I hate living in south North America.

It is like they don't think I can hear them when I wear my headset but boy oh boy, all the shit I've been fucking stuck hearing? I have had no privacy in 5 years. FIVE. Look at this.

I am near my bed right now and that is my view to the living room and kitchen. I hear everything. I hear the fighting between my parents, my brother when he talks about me. When I make comment about it they go back and say, "That's the point." when it comes to them talking about me. They clearly are too thick to see how much that has mentally damaged me.

Right behind this wall, is a health hazard.

From the sock over to the dresser is damp on the carpet be cause for over a month we have had a water leak from our water heater tank.

When I opened the door in the room to the water heater tank is, in the room beyond that brick wall- this is what I saw.

A brick wall is literally keeping me from that right now. I am sure that is black mold. I have not felt the best since I opened that door and took those pictures.

My so called father knows about it and hasn't done shit.

You see this?

The bathroom with the working shower has looked like this since at least 2017. That plywood is starting to get bad because of us showering.

In the other bathroom a light could fall in any moment. Been like this for roughly a year or more. I don't know anymore.

We live down the road from a restaurant and when they spray for roaches, we know. We know because my brother works there and they are in our house for a few weeks. I got up late one night to go get some water, flip the switch and I managed to see three small roaches scuttling into dark areas of the kitchen.

Do not get me started on mice during the winter. I don't see them but I can sure as hell hear them.

Another thing. The house is old so the foundation is not stable. The living room floor is warped in different areas and we have a leak under the house with our sewage line I believe. But at least once a month, under the house has to be pumped out of water. We do not have a basement.

My dad clearly does not give a flying fuck about anyone but himself. I think my absent father is a scociopath. Let me clarify. Physically there but never interacted with his kids. HE DOES NOT AND WILL NEVER KNOW HOW TO INTERACT WITH HIS FUCKING FAMILY.

The audacity to think I wanted a rifle that I will never shoot as a high school graduation gift?? I told him I wanted an xbox for graduation around the time he was about to get the rifle and it baffled him. I have always had a high interest in video games and I had not owned my own gaming system like an xbox or playstation of my own up until 2017. It was always share the Wii or PS2. He doean't know me at all.

I've heard my parents fight for at least the last few months and I am so sick of it. My friends are fucking worried beyond belief. They are stuck fucking hearing it when I am in a voice party with them and it is so embarrassing.

Just get a fucking divorce already. I am really tired of playing mom's therapist. I get that she needs to vent and all but to your traumatized, mental disordered child? I already am suffering enough from lack of needed treatment. It has taken such a strain on me that my facade is completely crumbling away at work. I can't hide my pain much longer.

I have wanted to kill myself twice in the last year alone to escape this. I have wanted to make it quick and the least messy as possible with one of the many hand guns thay lay around in the house. I was so close to going through with it the second time I thought about it.

I had made my mind up. Write a letter and a will for what my friends get and what to throw away. I was about to start writing it once I decided that I was ready to die. I scared some people and they told me to go to a hotline to talk me out of it.

That was seven months ago.

I need to escape and this is my last shot on asking for help. (I have asled help for different things and I have been overlooked.) I know friends who want to help me are unable to. I am not mad at them. They are already doing what they can to help themselves first beofre me because I care aboit them and want to make sure they are in a good spot before anything else. They aren't in the best situations either.

I need financial help to help me move. I am only asking for a total of $5000. If you can only donate even just $1 dollar, I will be more than thankful for you help. I am also opening commissions at this time. Please bear with me on timing. I am working 40+ hours a week right now and will work on the commissions as soon as I get a breathing chance when I get home.

My Commission Prices

$10 for a sketch and that will go from a bust to full body. I only do traditional- so pencil and paper. No sketch lines, just a clean pencil drawing. No limit to characters on one drawing. You will be charged for more than one character if you are going to have them on individual papers.

+$1 if you want it inked.

Note- I will not draw backgrounds, do shading or draw any NSFW. I am not adept in those fields.

My Paypal-

Thanks for at the very least reading through. Please help this be spread around. I will follow up with weekly updates through reblogs.

#tw suicide #abuse mention #tw abuse #emotional abuse mention #im desperate for help #i have no where else to turn #im scared that i will be stuck here longer than i already want to be #please #anything really helps

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mbti-notes · 7 years ago

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1. Hi. I've never told anyone any of this before, so it will likely be a little bit all over the place, and for that I apologize. My situation is this: when I was 18, I had to cut ties with my father whose house I used to spend my weekends at. A part of me thinks it's clear he was abusive, but I carry the doubt with me everywhere I go. Cutting him out of my life was the biggest leap of faith in myself that I had taken in years, and in retrospect he probably had a lot to do with that.

I’m putting this post behind a jump in case there is anyone who requires an *abuse trigger warning*.

[con’t: Some of the things he did involved locking me in rooms as punishment or “work.” One example being once when I didn’t want to write a birthday card on his behalf and was locked in my room for 9 hours (I wasn’t given food nor let out to use the bathroom), and if I accepted gifts like clothing or specific food items I would later be informed that I had to pay him and his gf back by cleaning the bathrooms. They locked the doors then too, and no matter how much I cleaned it was never clean enough so I would be cleaning for the rest of the day. He never believed anything I said either, stating that since he would always lie when at my age, he knew I was always lying too. This meant that I was expected to eat food I have allergies to or which would otherwise make me sick, because he didn’t believe me when I told him I couldn’t eat it. I even had several arguments with him from behind bathroom doors about whether or not the food had made me sick and he said I was making the sickness up and was just dragging out time. I started having anxiety attacks around him, but he refused to believe they were real, and when I presented papers from several psychologists (anxiety is an old issue of mine) he said I had manipulated them and that he had friends who had done the same thing. We were on vacation once only a week and a half after a good friend of mine had passed away, and he yelled at me throughout our entire stay because my somber mood was ruining his holiday. On another vacation I was only allowed to eat dinner but not touch any of the other food. I would’ve been fine with this if I had been allowed to go with him or his gf to the store, but I was always left behind to watch my siblings and so because of this I not only lost a lot of weight (we were there for two weeks) but also fainted without it changing anything. I think you’re getting the gist by now, so I’ll end that part here. I broke contact with him one day when he called my mom (they haven’t been together since I was very little), stating he wanted something like a family convention to discuss my bad behavior, which was something that came very out of the blue as I had stopped visiting by then and we only talked on the phone. I actually wanted to come over more often, but he wasn’t interested in having me there. Anyway, I realized he was only trying to turn the part of my family who were on “my side” (his words, during the following argument) against me, and knowing they wouldn’t buy into it anyway I sent him a long text message that essentially was a big and fancy “fuck you.” I had hoped I wouldn’t as much as hear his name again, but my mom received a letter from his lawyer stating he wanted a paternity test a few months after, and not too long after that again I found out from my school that he had repeatedly harassed the school board because he wanted them to hand him personal information about me. Not too long after I started having weekly nightmares about him, but instead of him being scary they were all about us becoming friends again and having a good relationship. They lasted for about a year/a year and a half, and I consider them nightmares because of the feeling I had when I woke up. My grandmother (his mother) and I were in touch for a while, but he moved in with her and she has refused to talk to me since. My issue now is that it’s been nearly four years, and… I miss him. A lot. Every single day, actually. I very irrationally feel like I have a hole in my chest that can only be filled by having him in my life again, even when I recognize that what I long for is the idea of him more than the man himself. Yet I’m still very bothered by thoughts of how he could have changed by now, how he could be a good father and how even when I’m already happy he could somehow make me happier. I’ll see something in a store and think he’d love it and I’ll be gripped with the desire to buy it for him. When I do things now that I know he’d approve of like enjoying a certain type of music I feel proud and wish for him to be proud too. My mental health is far better now and I won’t risk it for maybes, but I guess I needed to get it out in the hopes you could help me make sense of this, because I’m beyond confused. I’m not expecting answers or a snap of your fingers where it all goes away, but I think I, right now, really need an outside perspective. I don’t even know, actually, I guess I’m just reaching out to a stranger because I strugglewith talking to anyone else about this out of shame. No matter what I thank you for your time, and I hope you have a wonderful week.]

If necessary, I can confirm: There is no ambiguity or doubt in your case, your father is abusive, he is a manipulative and controlling person who shows no empathy for you, remorselessly treating you as a piece of property and not as a human being. People like him rarely change, in fact, they often get worse. But I also understand why you carry doubt and shame and don’t feel comfortable opening up about your experience (though it’s good that you finally are). Unfortunately, the way that some people talk about abuse is very insensitive and paternalistic, speaking for/over victims and not fully respecting their perspective, which can sadly lead to feelings of shame because, if everyone else knows in such black-and-white terms that you were abused but you are still not sure and even want to defend your abuser, doesn’t that make you “stupid"? No, not at all. Having very mixed feelings is normal when you’ve experienced chronic abuse. Having mixed feelings is really just being human. Feelings and emotions are not always easy to sort out even when the morality of the situation happens to be clear-cut.

While being abused is never a picnic for anyone, it’s especially horrible for children. Children are built to be very trusting because they need to learn as much about the world as quickly as they can, so they are basically little sponges. Unfortunately, it is all too easy for an adult to manipulate children’s emotions and loyalty, to exploit innocence and naivete for their own selfish ends. Chronic abuse results in your moral senses being twist-turned-upside-down because, on one hand, your natural moral instincts are telling you that everything is WRONG WRONG WRONG but, on the other hand, the person who should know better (and teach you right from wrong) is telling you that there’s something off with your moral judgment, that THEY are right and you are wrong about what you experience, as though you don’t know your own mind. If you hear this enough, you start to believe it and distrust yourself because you have no other knowledge to fall back on, because you’ve never had a chance to build up a strong sense of self, so you possess nothing with which to fight back against their manipulation. In other words, it is NEVER the child’s fault for trusting and loving the parent, rather, it is entirely the parent’s fault for exploiting that trust and love - the parent should know better.

You know that he is abusive, otherwise you would not have cut him off, and you should be proud that you found the inner strength to take such a big step. Perhaps doubt comes because you still have the very normal urge to want a good parent-child relationship, because what child does not want approval and love from their parent? It is absolutely normal, even as an adult, to want a good relationship with your parent. In fact, the more you feel as though you’ve been deprived of it, the more strongly you tend to yearn for it. Unfortunately, this is not always possible, not just for children of abuse, but also for orphans, adopted children, children whose parents died young or were absent for whatever reason, etc. You want something that is perfectly normal for people to want but the situation does not allow you to get what you want, however, there’s nothing wrong with the wanting in itself.

Perhaps shame comes because you know that you should not miss or want a relationship with such a horrible man, therefore, if you do, what kind of person does this make you? Unfortunately, the more ashamed you feel, the deeper your yearning for him gets. The more you try to push away emotions like shame, guilt, or lovesickness, the more power you give them, and the more they consume you. It is similar to how the more you try to forget something, the more you end up thinking about it. Wanting a relationship with your father and missing him are normal feelings to have, however, shame arises when you think these feelings aren’t normal or that you “shouldn’t” feel them. Therefore, the remedy to shame is to acknowledge these feelings and recognize that there is nothing “wrong” about them. Feelings are what they are, however, they need not dictate your behavior or influence your decision making unless you allow them to. When you are willing to fully admit your feelings, to expose them to the light of day, to put them into the right perspective, they lose power over you because you see them for what they really are, in this case, they are the simple longing of your inner child for parental love - nothing more, nothing less, nothing really untoward. However, if you keep trying to suppress these feelings because you are ashamed of them, they swirl around in your unconscious mind, mutating and growing in strength and threatening to grip you. You only become gripped by feelings and emotions if you never answer them properly, if you keep pushing them away.

Therefore, it is necessary for you to confront these feelings, to admit, process, and release them through healthy channels. Perhaps you can get some counseling for the specific purpose of giving yourself a chance to get these thoughts and feelings out of your system. Telling your story the way that you want to tell it can be very healing. My personal philosophy of self-improvement is that you should try to make your mind more transparent to yourself, that you should confront unpleasantness/darkness instead of trying to push it away and, yes, shine a light from the outside when you feel stuck inside your darkness. I hope this is why you felt comfortable enough to write in and I hope that simply speaking out has been helpful regardless of my response. Perhaps you would benefit from the experience of a close friend of mine who suffered very similar abuse as you and also cut her father off when she became an adult (though members of her extended family are still in touch with him). She is closing in on thirty, a bit older than you. We discussed her (not your) experience at length, paraphrased and summed up below:

“I will always long for a relationship with my father. Though we are no longer in contact, as long as he still exists in this world, a part of me will always hope that the two of us might yet one day experience a normal and loving father-daughter relationship, doing all the things normal fathers and daughters do, and it still fills me with sadness to know it won’t happen. I don’t try to deny that this hope exists but I don’t indulge it either. I know it’s a fantasy but it’s not something I waste time fantasizing about. I still have nightmares about the past sometimes, I cry when I need to, I talk out my feelings when I need to. Instead of feeling ashamed, guilty, or angry that he still affects me, I acknowledge that I am human and it is perfectly normal to be easily affected by one’s family. It’s a GOOD thing to be able to love and care even when the person cannot reciprocate, because this means that I did not lose the best part of me, he was not powerful enough to ruin me or my ability to love with an open heart, and I am very proud that he did not successfully twist me into his image. I can love him and feel sorry for him from afar without losing anything. I know that I cannot be healthy if he is in my life, he is not capable of being a good father or friend, this is the reality.

As for how to move on, I treated it as though grieving the death of a loved one. Grieving is mustering the will to move forward even though you still miss what was lost, and perhaps always will. It is sad to think about what could’ve been or what potential was squandered, but life is full of losses and unrealized potential, this is just one of many losses that I must deal with - everyone feels a void about something or other. It’s human to collect scars but scars don’t have to keep hurting unless you keep picking at them. When I allowed myself to grieve the loss of him, to accept the impossibility of a relationship, I was able to move forward - but this did not happen overnight, it took time. People who abuse you want power over you, to bend you to their will. I realized that I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of still having power over me, of defining my existence, of permeating my thoughts and feelings. The best “revenge” I can think of is to live my life to the best of my ability, to live it well for myself because I deserve to be happy. He does not care about my happiness, it is too bad, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about my happiness. It’s easy to believe that if even your parent doesn’t care about your happiness, then your happiness isn’t worth caring about, but your life should not be defined by what someone else does because then you can never be true to yourself.

When you venture out alone into the world, you might find yourself longing for the old and familiar even though you know you shouldn’t, especially when you feel down or lonely. Freedom can be scary. It’s ok to long for the past a bit because nostalgia is deceptive and bad memories lose their impact over time, but happiness is found by looking forward, by seeing that something better awaits you when you shed the bad aspects of yourself. You have to fall a few times before you can successfully fly on your own but always remember: Going through the hard work of forging your own life is the right way to build your self-esteem. I try to focus on all the good things I have at present and how good it feels to be free. I know I can never replace the fatherly love I missed out on but it has helped me greatly to surround myself with loving people who fill my days with light and laughter, so find those people whom you can count on and keep them close. I try to attract loving people by being a loving person. I make it a point to reflect and feel gratitude for the positive ways my life has changed over the years, to periodically remind myself how far I’ve come and how I successfully took control of my life by leaving him behind.”

#abuse #trauma #emotion #recovery #child abuse #mental health #ask

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therapy101 · 8 years ago

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You mentioned that you're a woman and you started this career young. Do you think there are any times you were somewhat held back or had to work harder than others because of that? I've always been very interested in a career in therapy and wondered how my age and gender might effect how clients perceive me. Thank you!

absolutely. although psychology and the mental health field in general has a higher proportion of women than men, men hold a larger percentage of higher level positions, including professors, directors of programs, owners of private practices, and so on. My grad program was very progressive and focused on social justice, etc., but there was only one female faculty member. I had so few female supervisors in grad school that I prioritized having female supervisors during graduate school.

That’s a problem of course due to issues of representation and difficulties for young psychologists to move up. Additionally though, a supervisory relationship with a male supervisor and a female supervisee is different than a supervisory relationship between two women. I didn’t really notice this until I got to internship and had mostly female supervisors. Suddenly I had someone I could talk to about male coworkers making microaggressions and male clients sexually harassing me. I had a support that I hadn’t been able to tap into before- not because my male supervisors were bad (they were mostly amazing) but because they didn’t share my experience and didn’t get what it’s like to be a young female clinician. (I’m sure this experience isn’t limited to gender, and I would imagine that other minority groups have an even more difficult time finding supervisors who have shared experience given even worse representation).

One of the other issues regarding being a young woman in a professional field I didn’t fully comprehend until I received my PhD. I went through this euphoric period of feeling accomplished and respected (I still am but the euphoria has mostly faded), and was overjoyed to have “Dr.” on my ID and have people actually call me “Doctor.” I mentioned this to a male coworker of mine (also a recent PhD) who responded, “That’s male privilege in action- people have been calling me doctor since I started grad school.” (that’s paraphrasing, but I’m certain he labeled it male privilege, which made me happy).

And it’s true, looking back at it. Throughout grad school, and sometimes even now, I was constantly being questioned and tested, and coworkers and clients alike tended to assume I had no idea what I was doing. People often assumed I was a college student getting volunteer experience, or that my current clinical placement was my first clinical experience, or that I didn’t know anything about stats, or that I didn’t understand brain function, etc etc etc. My male colleagues in grad school and on have not experienced this- at all or at the same levels. They get the privilege of people assuming they belong already.

And so those things are hard and do get in the way of moving forward. The bar is always higher for women, and we typically have to deal with more obstacles. The intern in my position before me was a man, and honestly- was a shitty intern. He was lazy and not very experienced. I worked much harder and had far more experience. And although my immediate supervisors knew I was a better therapist, he had this insanely good reputation among my other coworkers and I spent a lot of time in his shadow. There’s a lot of that- women having to work harder to just be seen. It’s not limited to psychology or mental health, but it’s not absent from either just because there are more women.

I’ve talked mostly about coworkers, and you mentioned clients, so let me address that more specifically. Being young and female has hindered my therapeutic relationships at times with some clients. The vast majority of these clients are men. Men significantly older than me often question my skills and life experience, and are sometimes condescending and paternalizing- at least initially. Men around my age are sometimes uncomfortable with my femaleness, and sometimes develop transference that can be an obstacle. I am a very feminine-presenting woman, and have had male clients comment about that negatively (for example- that I’m a princess who will leave therapy once I get a sugar daddy). Early on I considered changing the way I dress- one (female) supervisor of mine thought women should dress androgynously in mental health, both to be more professional and to cause less distraction (I know). Eventually I decided that I liked who I was and even if I wore button downs and Docs wouldn’t mean I wouldn’t present femininely, so I might as well be happy in my clothes.

I do think there are a lot of progressive and supportive people out there, and it’s absolutely possible to be successful as a young woman in mental health. My colleagues have mostly been wonderful, which gives me hope that the next generation will be far more supportive to women.

______

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