#look despite my family and cultural upbringing and everything you would expect living in the states

[florallychaotic]

So maybe this is something I should admit because it makes me look fandom brain poisoned but uh....

Hey guys......did you know that the Lazarus pit isn't just a batman thing but also a Bible thing? I learned that today.....

[aedee]

Blooming In My Social Soil: How Society and Culture Affect Me

This is the third entry to my e-journal. I am Donna, and to know me better, you can scroll through my past posts!

Did I ever mention that I am the eldest daughter with two eldest brothers? It was fun, really; the power dynamics, the favour, the role model until the storm of expectations and pressure came in. As they say, mothers loved their sons and raised their daughters. raised their daughters in a way that society would accept them. Due to my gender, I am expected to take on more responsibility domestically, act as mahinhin as possible, talk as a lady would sound, and even sit demurely. Even argued that these would make me get a husband, to whom I can dedicate my life, a traditional tender Maria Clara, a true epitome of dalagang Filipina. If you are familiar with the GMA TV Series Maria Clara at Ibarra, you will notice why I identify myself as Klay, Barbie Forteza's role.

I was kind of the center of attention and a main character in the family because I was the first granddaughter, especially to my paternal grandmother, nanay Angge. I'm very sure that practically everything I did was captured on a digital camera, including my first time using a walker, standing up for the first time, taking my first picture, and even eating things like my uncle's phone! How thrilled was my nanay? Well, she was the one who got me baptised!

Bronfenbrenner's Ecological Systems model explains how my family shaped my early years. My closest circle (microsystem) included my parents, grandmother, brothers, and aunt/uncle. The large age gap between me and my brother Roden placed him in my mesosystem, connecting our immediate environments. My mom's stories about their playful competition to babysit me illustrate this early influence. Though playful, it showed their nurturing instincts, even if it lessened as I became more independent.

In my first years upon my birth, my family fostered a strong sense of security and support for my development. My father provided stability while working, and my mother, a full-time homemaker, showered me and my three siblings with affection and full attention. Her close circle of friends, my Ninangs, who constantly doted on me, also enriched my early years. This focus on family, my microsystem, a core value in Filipino culture, extended beyond our immediate household. My grandmother, aunt, and uncle lived in the same compound as us and actively participated in my upbringing, ensuring I was never far from the helping hand of a relative. Even traditional child-rearing practices, like prioritizing a mother's immediate response to my needs, reflected this cultural emphasis on close bonds. Thus, I can say that the constant support and affection built by my microsystem and mesosystem laid the foundation for the strong relationships I cherish today. However, despite the loving environment of my childhood, I noticed that a seed of gender inequality or gender role norms was unknowingly ingrained. My father's decision for my mother to stay home, while he provided financially, ingrained in me the traditional idea of gender roles. This aligns with the feminist theory when it comes to the domestic sphere, which looks at how unpaid domestic labour, or the labour of love, often performed by women, is undervalued and most of the time, overlooked, compared to paid work. While I appreciate the security and attention my mother's full-time dedication provided, feminist theory opened my eyes and allowed me to challenge these norms. It allows me to recognize that both parents can be successful breadwinners and care providers, cultivating a more equitable and fulfilling family dynamic within the microsystem and mesosystem. That understanding gives me an opportunity to envision a moment when personal strengths and preferences, rather than gender, will determine household duties and professional goals. It is important to note that all I want is to be independent and financially secure on my own; I don't even want to start my own family, not anytime soon, as what my mother often prepares me for. I am aware that many people still live by the sexist notion that having children is the essence of being a woman, but I believe that women can influence society in a variety of other ways owing to our intellectual capacity and gracious hearts. Like Klay, a character who redefined femininity, I am a true Filipina but a modern Maria Clara, and no stereotypes can hold me back from embracing my heritage while forging my own path.

Growing up in a Filipino-based culture has instilled a unique blend of strong mindset and challenges in my journey of personal growth. The phrase "bahala na, may plano si Lord" gives off a positive approach to adversity. I see it as a cultural coping mechanism that allows me to believe that a higher being will help me, thus making me persevere even in difficult situations (do your best, God will do the rest!). This quality has undoubtedly played a role in my journey in the academe. When faced with the slightly unexpected challenge of being placed on the unfitting, technically my fault, academic track for my dream career as a flight attendant, I channelled my "bahala na, may plano si Lord" spirit. The most difficult part of my educational endeavour happened when I entered senior high school. I thought that the best way to be a Flight Attendant was to pursue the academic track, HUMSS. Little did I know that the ABM strand was more appropriate, as it is under the Business and Management field. Naturally, after learning this, I pleaded and asked the institution if I could shift, but because of the strict management, nothing happened. I still remember the Prefect of Discipline's remarks on me; he was one of the terror teachers there, so imagine the words delivered loudly I heard! Knowing that there was not much of a choice, my parents made me choose between two things: pursue HUMSS or take a year off. I chose HUMSS and graduated as the overall rank 4 in the whole batch, ranked third in our strand, and second in our class, a testament to my ability to adapt, overcome, and trust the process (AKA God's plan). True enough, it is actually staying in this course that made me decide to pursue the Psychology course, which made me enter the prestigious university, the University of the Philippines.

On the other hand, the famous Filipino culture's inclination to romanticize resilience may also be an unhealthy way of reasoning. There were moments in my life when I felt like accepting the bare minimum and underappreciation might result from the expectation to just get by. I found changing courses was not an easy option in the strict academic system. Even though I eventually succeeded at HUMSS, this experience gave me the will to fight for the things I want. The stage of acceptance took a long time. I honestly feel the strand was not initially an attractive path for me until I found a network of support that taught me to be happy and made me realize that the strand is afterall, worth pursuing.

True enough, I excelled in this course, and I can proudly say that I belong in the HUMSS strand; I am a HUMANISTA. The challenge for my goals was one of the factors in my decision to pursue a degree in psychology. My interest in social dynamics and human behavior was sparked by my success in HUMSS, given our lots of outside activities involving people. I decided to study psychology because of this passion as well as the conclusion that the course you graduate from does not necessarily define your eligibility to apply to an airline—although it may be an advantage to be in ABM.

My growth was fostered by my heritage, and the society and culture I grew up in undoubtedly had an impact on me, but I am also learning to achieve a balance between my known traditions and beliefs and my goals as I blossom into a career woman who defies limitations.

[fireemblems24]

Merit Based System

This is a bit all over the place. Sorry about that. I watched a show this weekend that really illustrates why I no longer believe in Edelgard's system after her support with Ferdinand.

Spoilers for Fire Emblem Three Houses CF route and Edelgard & Ferdinand's support and the show Segodon up to episode 8.

Segodon is a taiga drama that retells the life of historical figure Saigo Takamori a. k. a. the last samurai. This man was a brilliant politician and played an instrumental role in Japan's tumultuous 1800s where they overthrew the shogun and instated a modern government. The show itself is absolutely fantastic so far (though, I love anything to do with the Bakumatsu, no, that's a lie, there's some real shitty Bakumatsu anime.).

Like the real life Saigo, the fictional representation has a lot of "merit." As the show writes him, he has a high level of empathy for people who are hurting because of Japan's horrible, outdated systems and is constantly does whatever is in his power to convince the powers that be to back off a bit because their taxes and punishments are so harsh at times, his native Satsuma was at serious risk of starving its entire agricultural force out of work.

Not only is Saigo intelligent, but he's also tenacious. He "dares" to ask his "betters" to see the errors of their way, goes out of his way to try and get audiences with people far above his station, and does everything he possibly can to help everyone around him. Whether he's tackling problems with a larger system or a hurting individual around him, he's trying his best to make things right. And when people listen to him, things improve. People are also naturally drawn to his leadership and overall gentle disposition.

He's also broke.

Saigo comes from a very poor, very large family. So when the powers that be grant him an opportunity to travel to Edo (then capital of Japan), where he could get real experience, where he could start rubbing shoulders with the right people and find ways to gain influence, learn, etc . . . He can't. Because his family can't cough up 30 ryo.

No matter how much merit Saigo has, his upbringing keeps him from reaching his full potential. The top leadership of the area invites him to the opportunity of a life time, but even with an open invitation, he can't so easily accept it.

His mother, father, and grandfather had all just died (and this is a historical fact, at least) and left him in charge. The family went into even more debt buying medicine during various illnesses. There's younger and elder family he needs to look out for, a sister who he now needs to find a husband for, and a new wife on top of everything else. They don't have 30 ryo to spare.

No matter how much merit Saigo has, no matter how much he wants to make a difference, he can't. Because he was born into poverty, because he can't afford to step away from the family land or else risk running out of food in the winter. His merit isn't enough. You need privilege. And he's already got privilege in that he wasn't born a farmer, that he has the personal attention of those in charge through connections and channels his family name permitted him, he's already jumped over hurdles others can't - and he still can't take advantage of his merit.

A merit based system benefits those who have and punishes the have nots. All the rich kids with rich parents who don't have to think twice about spending 30 ryo and have servants to take care of the elderly and young in their families. They can take every opportunity so the gap widens even further. Even worse, a merit based system tells the people born poor, born sick, born neurologically divergent, born into an abusive family, born into a historically disadvantaged race/gender/sexuality/etc, etc . . . that it's their fault they're not at the top. That if they just "tried harder" and had "more merit" they could make it. You too could be a billionaire if you just pulled on your bootstraps hard enough, and failure means you didn't try hard enough. And, yes, this is very much happening in our culture today.

That Edelgard didn't even consider something as huge as inequality before starting a war that would kill thousands really shocked me. Her support with Ferdinand exposed just how naive she is and how narrow-minded her world-view and experiences are. If she's going to sacrifice thousands of people for her supposedly better system, I wish she'd put at least some thought into it.

I do not expect a Fire Emblem game to get hyper-political or into nitty-gritty details. Honestly, I wish this support didn't exist. If their A-Support focused just on educational reform or even Ferdinand cementing himself as a actual check/rival to Edelgard, then I'd be more willing to believe she could make a good leader. But, for some reason, they decided to use this support to show how little Edelgard actually thought about her actions despite the dire consequences of them. These details aren't needed. These lines could be completely omitted and let the reader imagine Edegard has the political know-how to actually pull what she wants off. But instead the game went out of it's way to show she doesn't really have a single clue what she's talking about, and I cannot fathom why. This isn't even touching on her admitting it didn't even occur to her that her actions would leave a power vacuum and would need to fill it (like - what -), but that's for another day.

THIS is why I can't get behind Edelgard. Because her merit based system isn't worth all the lives she destroyed in her war. She thinks her ideas are worth everyone that dies, but her ideas aren't well thought out. This episode 8 of Segodon illustrated perfectly why Edelgard's system is a house of cards that will do nothing but pat the nobility and otherwise rich and privileged on the back while blaming farmers and otherwise disadvantaged for their continued poverty because "lack of merit."

I honestly can't express how badly I wish these lines in this support didn't exist. It serves no purpose except to expose Edelgard's lack of forethought and lack of understanding about the lives of the people she's claiming she's making better.

But, yeah, watching this episode just made me think about Edelgard's system and reminded me again of the exact moment I gave up on supporting her war.

(spoiler alert about Segodon: all those people he kept helping scrounge together 30 ryo so he can go to Edo and leaves the lands in charge of his younger brother, and yes, he's going to go down in history, but also . . . prepare for a downer ending if you actually watch this (I mean . . . it's the Bakumatsu). I already know I'm going to cry my fucking eyes out and I haven't even meant this version of Sakamoto Ryoma yet)

[problems-of-immortality]

[🪀] what was your muse’s childhood like? how did their upbringing affect them? (for Sahren)

Oh wow, this will be a lengthy one, still one of my favorite questions for him, so thank you! I'm going to write this with a lot of detail so even people who haven't played can understand, as the lore is very extensive and convoluted and it is some chunky sections of that lore that shapes his upbringing and his entire personality. Also a fair amount of it takes up heavy content, so check the tags before reading to make sure you are comfortable reading. Sahren grew up in Dalish culture, essentially nomadic clans that live away from human settlements because of major cultural disagreements. Most of Thedas believes that mages should be locked away because of their power, and their ability to reach their minds across the Veil when they sleep makes them susceptible to being influenced or possessed by the denizens of the Fade. The entire world and all of it's cultures have some degree of fear of mages. Dwarves don't have them, but Qunari essentially enslave their mages, the Tevinter Imperium is run by mages that are too power hungry, and humans trap theirs in tower colleges. Dalish clans don't like interacting with humans for a multitude of reasons, but the main reasons are: Dalish clans consider mages to be a risk but also necessary to lead the clan as Keeper, the clan's diplomat, the leader, and the mage healer of the clan. They are the only group besides the Imperium to give mages freedom. But because they wander Thedas with no homeland, they have to avoid humans for long periods or else risk situations where humans under the Chantry deem them to be blasphemous to the Maker and try to convert them or kill them. The Tevinter Imperium still has a slave trade, and elves make up an overwhelming majority. The Dalish in the long forgotten past used to rule all of Thedas as a magical utopia with an advanced culture of people that never died and all were mages, but for mysterious reasons the humans came along, and the Dalish believe that the fall of this nation made them lose their immortal lifespans to become mortal, and then enslaved, which caused them to lose most of the knowledge of Arlathan. (The name of their nation) Different clans take different approaches to humans, but most are wary of them. Sahren's clan had bad experiences with the Tevinter Imperium because they lived much farther north, closer to the border with Tevinter. There were skirmishes with his clan twice in his life, and both he ended up losing a loved one, to. His mother was his clan's Keeper, Thalia, and his father Athras the head ranger. It was expected when Sahren was born that he'd become her First when he developed magic, and eventually succeed her. When he was four, she gave him a large book in which he would write all of his knowledge, but he passed the age where he would develop magic without so much as creating a spark. That same day came a kid his age that Sahren grew to love dearly, came into the clan after his own was destroyed. Feladara, with auburn hair and honey gold eyes. Feladara ended up developing magic instead. Sahren really tried not to be bitter. His mother let him study longer, even though only the keepers could really study all of the lore they had. But then tragedy happened- Some bandits came along while Thalia was out with just Sahren and Feladara at 10, gathering herbs with her. She convinced Feladara to run back to camp just as she heard them nearby, but Sahren refused to go.They tried to demand that Thalia tell them where the clan was camped, but she calmly tried to diffuse the situation and convince them to go elsewhere. They call Thalia a knife ear, so Sahren runs up and kicks one of them in the shin, and ends up becoming a hostage. His mother had a different opinion than the normal views on the denizens of the Fade, because she actually understood their nature, and was friends with a Spirit of Loyalty. So she fuses with the spirit and together they fight off the bandits, killing all of them to defend her clan and her child. When she does, she goes to hug Sahren, and because she secretly taught Sahren the ways of the spirits, he isn’t afraid. But then Feladara comes back with Sahren’s father, Athras. A more superstitious person than his wife, he immediately assumed she was a typical abomination, and thought she was going to kill Sahren, so he struck her through the heart from the back with an arrow.  Sahren never forgave him for that. After her death, Athras more aggressively tried to make Sahren learn how to be an archer instead, going down his path instead of his mother’s. A retired Keeper from another clan became the new Keeper for Clan Lavellan, and Feladara became her First.  So Sahren would skip his lessons to hang out in the Keeper’s aravel with Feladara, learning whatever Feladara was learning. The new Keeper enabled it for some time, but eventually Sahren’s father found out where he was going and forbade him from entering the Keeper’s aravel, grounding him to staying in camp for a week. It was then he noticed all the stares, and the whispers. “Abomination’s child”, “he’s going to end up like her even without magic”. None of the other kids wanted to hang out with him, and Feladara was too busy with lessons. He quickly found that the rest of the clan didn’t like him, and that ended up souring his opinion of most of them. It made him a really angry teenager- When the week ended, Sahren took to hiding in the woods outside the camp instead of sleeping in camp. He refused to bunk with anyone, instead sleeping in the trees. It led to quite a few falls at first, but then it became impossible to knock him out of a tree.  Feladara found him first, and then they began to hang out together at night, talking for hours about nothing and everything- magical theories and theories about the stories that remained of the Creators, the Forgotten Ones, and the Dread Wolf. In return, Sahren teaches Feladara how to use daggers. (The elven pantheon) Sahren picked up a lot of words from these exchanges that belonged to the old language of Arlathan. He laces them in Common often, like “Ma serannas” as thanks, “Ir abelas” as I’m sorry. Learning the meaning of family names: Feladara’s simply was the old name for the herbs they gather the most (elfroot), his own name meant “One who commands respect”. His father’s meant “Half in shadow”. He picks up many more words and names during the events of the game, and when he drinks from the Well of Sorrows ( Vir’abelasan ) he sometimes speaks completely in the old language because of the voices of the elven scholars who placed their knowledge in the Well. (There’s a person who created an entire lexicon on the language to fill in the gaps that the actual games left, I reference this and the game all the time) They end up falling in love over time. Eventually, when they both turn 18 and receive their vallaslin (tattoos on their faces, right of passage for Dalish elves. It means “blood writing”) Sahren and Feladara end up confessing their love to one another and marrying each other privately in the Dalish way, by exchanging hand crafted gifts and then tying each other’s wrists together with a ribbon. When Sahren told his father, there was an uproar. Sahren assumed it was because his father was homophobic, but in reality, Athras didn’t want him to marry a mage after what happened to his wife, worried the situation would repeat itself. About a year or so later, tragedy strikes yet again. This time, slavers attack the clan because they got too close to the Tevinter border for too long. Athras gives himself up to them after some fighting so they leave the rest of the clan alone. Sahren comes to the clan, smelling blood and ash. Feladara convinces him to save his father, but in the fighting when they catch up, Feladara dies in Sahren’s arms. Sahren becomes incredibly distant and unapproachable, always sleeping alone on the outskirts of camp whether he’s hunting or not, and begins to drink alcohol often to numb his feelings. The worst part: he gets drunk in trees and high places. He never falls from the trees, though- he considers them places of safety, away from other people who see how bitter he is and avoid him anyway. Over the course of the game he gradually mellows out, makes friends, drinks less. But the game just gives him the worst luck based on his choices, and the backstory I wrote myself for him gives him reason for those choices. So he’s surprisingly open about spirits, interested in learning new lore about his own culture from Solas, even becoming friends with him, and with nearly everyone else, even Cassandra and Cullen, who are very Andrastian in their faith.

He goes from being blamed for the explosion to being praised as the Herald of Andraste, sent by the Maker Himself to save Thedas. The worst part is, he doesn’t even believe in the Maker and hates the Andrastian faith, but no matter how often he forces himself into a Dalish figure and acts deliberately blasphemous while denying that he is the Herald people still praise him as Inquisitor and later on, ask him who should lead the Chantry. He absolutely loathes the role, and the way people look at him because of it. His inner circle is full of interesting, loyal people of all races and walks of life, and somehow, despite his prickly nature he ends up befriending them all, while successfully saving the world for a time. I’m going to cut this short before it turns into an entire biography, haha!

[beautifulterriblequeen]

A little epiphany about the moon arcanum

(submitted by @lily-lilou​)

Hello ! I just realised something about the moon arcanum and I wonder what you would think about it:

Remember the other day, when you asked “how do you kill death?” and I answered “death is an emptiness of life, darkness is an emptiness of light”?

And remember in S1ep1 when Rayla said “moon reflect sun, as death reflect life.”, Implied: sun is life, moon is death? 

Well, something bothered me with this last point. Because, if the moon was only death-related, Moonshadow elves would just be “empty” since they are all death and shadow/darkness. No light, no life. It doesn’t make sense. (I mean, we’ve seen in the novel that, indeed, some of them are really dark, as dark as a dark mage like Viren, it seems, but not all of them.)

While looking at Callum’s spellsbook, I saw that the moon arcanum is indeed death-related. But it’s also dual. 

And suddenly, I had my little epiphany: 

The moon has no light in herself, what she reflects is the light of the sun. And the light of the sun is “life”. So indeed, without it, the moon is “empty”.

But that’s my point, she does reflect it, and so: when the moon shines in the night, does she bring life? no. Does she bring death? neither.  What does the moon do, then?

She reflects light when shadows and darkness are surrounding you, she makes them receded, she allows you to see in the dark.

Seeing light in darkness, isn’t this the definition of “hope” itself? 

So now, my little theory about the duality of the moon being “death-hope”, it’s really neat (’>_>), but what about the show, what could prove my idea?

Well: the world is about to be engulfed in an all-out war, darkness and death are on almost every hearts, on the verge to destroy everything. And the moon, with her Moonshadow assassins, reflects “death”. But if my theory is right, shouldn’t she also reflect “life”, shouldn’t she bring “hope”?

And here goes Rayla, bright little light in the dark, sparing her enemies for the greater good, ready to sacrifice her life for a chance for peace. She’s the reason her little team’s adventure was possible to begin with, after all. 

I mean, seriously, if the moon is dual, if one aspect of it is “death” and the other is “hope”, wouldn’t this explain “different” Moonshadow elves like Rayla, Lain and Ethari? 

Just like a lot of sunfire elves are more connected to the destructive aspect of their arcanum and have a “heat mode”, and a few other are connected the more comforting and healing aspect of it with “light mode”. Why wouldn’t Moonshadow elves be like that too? With a lot of them related to the destructive aspect of the Moon (death), and a few others more connected to that other facet of it: hope. 

As for Lain and Ethari, why do I think they’re more “hope-related” than death?

We haven’t seen a lot of them yet (and I’m waiting for S4 to see more of Ethari). However, the few elements we have is already not bad:

Lain literally saw “hope” in the egg’s survival. As for Ethari, even if he wronged Rayla in his grief, he did broke the spell and help her. Without him, they would have never made it in time to the Storm Spire, Rayla wouldn’t have been here to stop Viren, who would have probably killed Zubeia. 

So sorry, it’s a little longer than I thought, but I hope you’ll be interested. (if not, sorry for waisting your time - and sorry if my english isn’t… arf, sorry if it’s torture, I have no one to check on it)

good night :)

-----------------

Hey, thank you for this! I love seeing other people’s ideas! I’ve spent plenty of time pondering Moonshadow culture and philosophy because its duality is so fascinating. But the way you’ve put it gives it a beautiful new spin: hope in the dark. And I do agree with you, because I can think of several times when Moonshadow elves acted as that hope when things got dark--and not just Lain and Ethari, either.

You said that the moon acts like a kind of mirror, reflecting the light (and life) of the sun even in the darkest places. Like she’s encouraging everyone to hold on, because the day is coming back again. In such darkness, even the smallest bits of light make a big difference. And I think that’s exactly what we get from the Moonshadow elves.

Tiadrin and Lain left their daughter behind because duty was so important to them. That’s noble, but also sad. Yet Tiadrin valued life so highly that she tricked Viren into sparing the egg, just on the odd chance that someone could rescue it later somehow. I bet she was betting on Runaan right then. Saving the egg was her light in the dark, and so was hope that her good friend might rescue it when she couldn’t. And he did try once he saw it, but neither of them could’ve predicted that Rayla would find it before they did.

Ethari did ghost his daughter while he was suffocating in his own grief. He couldn’t stand up to the whole village in that moment. That was a very dark time, for him and for who he might’ve turned into. But then Rayla came home, innocent of the crime spoken against her, and Ethari knew he’d been wrong. He broke through his own darkness and became the hope that she needed.

Lujanne straight-up told Callum that humans can’t do magic, while sitting in the seat of her own power. That was all she knew, even as an experienced mage, and though she was kind, she definitely had her people’s misinformation and prejudices against humans and dark magic. And yet, when Claudia and Soren came, and Rayla asked for her help to escape safely back toward Xadia, Lujanne used that special exclusive magic, and her own personal Moon Phoenix to help test the intentions of Claudia and Soren, and it helped them stay safe.

Even Runaan has some very bright spots in his dark story. He saved Rayla’s life once he realized he’d endangered it. That cost him dearly, but he paid it willingly. And despite all of his broody loner tendencies, he lets his extended family drag him out on his own birthday. He does special things for Rayla on her birthday. He definitely does something special for Ethari on his, too. He’s a stabby dark angel of death, and probably the darkest Moonshadow elf we’ll ever meet, But he knows what love is, and it makes him break the rules, just like Ethari did. He let Rayla live when the conventions of his profession demanded otherwise. We never got to see what kind of trouble that might’ve gotten him into. But I bet it wouldn’t have been a hit back home.

And don’t get me started on Rayla. She’s very grumpy and rule-oriented much of the time, but her soft heart can’t resist doing what’s right if it clashes with what’s expected. She learned that from all her parents, and she can’t help being their daughter at every turn, acting as she’s seen them all act, following the rules right up until her heart tells her otherwise.

See the pattern? All of these elves live in a society that’s strict and ordered with very clear rules. But they’re still people, still individuals with hearts and minds. And they keep finding little ways to be soft despite their hard world. They are the night, and the night is very black and white. But they all live for the light of the moon, and for its hope, its love, and its promise.

Moonshadow elves have a rough job. They guard the dark and the dead and all things scary and creepy. They are what’s in the dark. That fits well with why they’re not supposed to be afraid: they’re supposed to be the scary ones. 

In a way, I see Moonshadow elves as the recycling of Xadia. Part of a bigger cycle, like day and night, part of an endless cycle that will never stop. 

They deal with death and spirits. Usually people don’t like to think about those things. They’re unnerving. Just like we humans don’t really like to think about our garbage bins. But when you recycle, you take old gross dead things and you turn them into something new and useful again. 

When we trim shrubbery, it’s so that the plant can grow more healthy. When we separate our glass and metal and cardboard, it’s so we don’t pollute the planet and kill life unnecessarily. When something dies in the forest, the itty bitty creatures come out and take care of it, reusing all those nutrients, passing them on and turning them back into life and health. Even mushrooms and molds are recycling. You may not like their job. It may seem icky to you. But imagine a world where everything that died or was discarded just. Sat there. Stinking forever. Would that be better? No, it wouldn’t, eew. 

The recycling that happens in the natural processes of the world is mostly invisible to us. It happens on a very small scale, or underground, or in the dark. But it happens. It’s happening right now, all around us. Invisible, if you will. And from that slightly distasteful, invisible, endless process, we will get fresh leaves on our trees, new flowers, new generations of helpful insects and animals, and a lot fewer gross smells on the breeze. You’re welcome!

The moon is the hope in the dark. But that hope is borne out by the individual choices of the elves we know and love. When they choose to be soft, to be heroic, to be selfless or sacrificing, they’re acknowledging that they are part of a bigger whole, an entire ecosystem of elves and dragons and even humans, and they act for a cause bigger than themselves. No one has a better sense of their place in the bigger scheme of things than Moonshadows, I think.

I’m eager to see what Rayla’s arc will be like from here, because it’s looking more and more likely that she’ll literally arc away from her Moonshadow upbringing instead of cycling back to it. She is the hope in the dark of her people. Will she save them, will she step away from them, will anyone come with her? Will it go smoothly does ghosting count as smooth, or will there be trouble?

All good thoughts, @lily-lilou​, all good thoughts. Thank you for sharing your ideas!

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Alone together at the Summer Sweets Festival

Sweet treats, flying carpets, and colorful blooms - it's a magical day in Falcon Harbor when the Summer Sweets Festival comes to town. Everything's so soft and pastel, it's such a lovely sight to take in. Standing on the bridge, getting a full view of the festivities, I feel peaceful, like despite everything going on in the world right now, as long as I'm here, I'm safe.

Since we've been busy with camp stuff and running the shop, Daisy Jane and I felt that we needed some time to ourselves. Up until now, we haven't really had one on one time together, something we knew had to be fixed.

Hard to believe that Daisy Jane's been here for over a year now - how different things were back then. She went from stagnating in life to living her dream, being independent and creating art. And not too long ago I was in a similar position, trying to find my place in the world but having a hard time doing so. People objected - usually for good reason - but we took the plunge anyway, stumbling more than succeeding, but finding our way eventually. To some, it's still not ideal, but to us, we're happy, and that's more than enough for us.

Like I said, it's been nice just the two of us hanging out. I mean, we did meet up with friends but for the most part it's only us off on our own while occasionally meeting up. Not that I don't miss the campers but sometimes you just gotta go off and do your own thing. I've been so wrapped up in camp events lately that I haven't had time to do that and it was starting to affect me. As I'm still learning, it's important not to get too wrapped up in things - and there's nothing wrong with taking things slow, even slacking off if you can.

Since Pai brought along Connie and the gang, I've been thinking about that a lot. As much as I enjoy and look forward to camp events, they take a lot out of me. I get that they're kinda necessary to keep things running - and it's not like we're running out of ideas (I'm starting to think that's becoming one of my worst fears if I ever get to that point) -  but it's important to know when to slow down. I've made the mistake of back to back events so now I know to space them out for everyone's sanity.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that burnout ain't good. Know the signs and take steps to prevent yourself from crashing and burning. Problem is that it can sneak up in unexpected ways, so it's extra important to catch the warning signs as soon as possible.

A festival may not seem like an ideal way to get some rest and relaxation, but this one's different. I think it's the peaceful atmosphere in general - things aren't too crazy or crowded, just people vibing in their own spaces. Kinda like a cafe's that's sorta busy but not too crowded or loud so you can just chill out and do your own thing without feeling like you're in the way. I always feel bad for taking up space, especially when I know that someone else needs it more than I do, which is why I tend to feel self conscious out in public. Doing stuff at a cafe sounds nice but actually doing it? I need to find the right place, the right atmosphere, the right spot that gives me privacy while not be closed off from everything else.

In other words, the Summer Sweets Festival's kinda like finding the perfect cafe to hang out in. The vibe's similar to the Traveling Fika, a relaxed atmosphere that doesn't compel you to have to try out everything all at once but instead encourages you to take your time and explore at your own pace. As much as I enjoy festivals - even more so as I've had a hand in behind the scenes for some - they can take a lot out of me. Again, there's nothing wrong with slowing down and taking your time.

While enjoying the festivities we ran into some friends. Turns out Emmaline and Minnie had the same idea of going to the festival for one on one time. I think this is the first time I've hung out with them since their wedding. As usual, they've been traveling around the universe, though they've been slowing down a bit and visiting home more often. It's still up in the air, but they're really considering the idea of buying a place in Rosevine. They'll still be traveling but that means they'll also have a home base to go back to.

The four of us enjoyed galaxy themed dango and fresh jasmine tea while catching up. I think since getting married, Emmaline and Minnie have fallen even more in love with each other. It's always so sweet seeing them side by side, holding hands and just being together. Like me and Daisy Jane, they also took a gamble by going off on their own - they were always more bolder than us in many ways despite being younger. In a way, they seem older, though it's more of a kinda had to grow up faster because of life circumstances.

Now that I think about it, no one really comes out unscathed from their upbringing. I'm lucky to not experience the traumas Emmaline and Minnie went through, though I can relate to being seemingly older than your peers. I'm not knocking my upbringing but the culture I grew up in - where my parents were also brought up - tends to put pressure on all of us. Maybe I'm biased because I'm the firstborn daughter in an Asian family but in a way I'm kinda expected to be maternal - not that I don't want to be, it's just the pressure of being that gets to me. It's the whole idea of you have to be the best, not just for you, but for your family - in other words, you have a lot to carry on your shoulders.

Then there's the whole debate of whether I should do something because it's for me or should consider my family over myself. Eh, that's something for another time I don't feel like getting into all that today.  Will I have to address it someday? Probably but I don't have the brain power to even touch on that.

After getting lost in the stars, the four of us hopped on a flying carpet for a scenic view of the harbor. They say that Falcon Harbor's known for its magical carpets, from their beautiful and intricate designs to the magic these threads possess, it's amazing to see how much work is put into making a single one. The view is absolutely gorgeous - it adds to the dreamy vibe of the festival.

Not too long after parting ways, we ran into Blossom. It was an unexpected surprise as she came here on sort of a whim. For the past year or so she's been hanging out with a time traveling professor and exploring various parts of the universe with him. She posts a lot of about her travels on social media and it sounds like she's having a blast.

Though as much as she enjoys going on adventures with the professor, Blossom finds him a hassle to get along with sometimes. She describes him as the kind of guy who's used to pretty much getting away with everything and doesn't really know how to take responsibility, so inevitably that ends up getting him into a lot of trouble. Jamie's heard stories about him and while he has good intentions, most tend to have a like-hate thing with him. I get where Blossom's coming from with the lack of foresight and accountability - like it's understandable if you're from an upbringing that neglects that but at the same time you're a grown adult so act like one.

Aside from that the professor guy sounds cool but to be honest I'm not sure if I can stand to be his traveling companion. Blossom finds him to be good company most of the time and he brings some excitement to her normally monotonous life. Now with her little sister moving across the country, Blossom finally has more freedom to do what she wants. The main reason why she accepted the professor's offer to join in on his adventures was to get away from her, which is understandable. Her sister's a lot like mine in which I love her, but she can be a bit much to deal with - and not ideal to live with 24/7. With her sister gone, Blossom doesn't have to deal with nosy siblings who, while well intentioned, make her feel bad for doing her own thing. And yes, I speak from experience.

Originally, Blossom and the professor were gonna go on a space adventure but that was scrapped at the last minute. Basically, the professor owed an old friend big time for something he sorta screwed up on the last time he visited, so now, after avoiding it for years, he has to finally pay up. It's not as bad as it sounds as he knew that he would have to own up sooner or later, plus Blossom knows them to be good friends.

As much as she wants to see the cosmos, she's been busy helping her sister with the moving out process so she'd rather have a lowkey weekend. Since she lives about 20 mins away from town, Blossom figured that maybe she'd pop in to join in on the festivities for a bit. So we enjoyed candied strawberries, tiger milk tea, and a boat ride around the harbor before going off our separate ways again.

At night, we met up again with Emmaline and Minnie to set up a picnic and watch the fireworks show. Seeing all those bright, vibrant colors against the dark night sky, it's a pretty sight to look at. We also chose a good spot to view it as there's not too many people around and the sound doesn't break our ears. After that, we hung around a bit longer, exploring stands we haven't gotten around to visiting yet. The quiet atmosphere along with the gentle glow of the lanterns - I almost didn't want to leave because it felt so comforting, especially when it's just us alone.

Did I just say "us" alone? Maybe it's just because we've known each other for so long and have a lot in common, but as much as I like having alone time, I'm starting to see myself more open to sharing that time with Daisy Jane. Not exactly interacting, but existing in the same space, doing our own thing. I still need my solo alone time, but I also wouldn't mind being alone together with Daisy Jane, like how we were at the festival.

[musicallisto]

without fail tag

THE “WITHOUT FAIL” TAG — List five things that you, WITHOUT FAIL, weave into or explore in your stories, whether it be specific themes or tropes, character archetypes, allusions to other literary works, what have you! It really can be anything that you consistently include in your narratives for whatever reason. Then invite others to share theirs by tagging them!

I was tagged by @deadlymodern - thank you so much for tagging me, this tag is amazing and I loved reading your answers! I can tell you have a very thorough approach to your writing & themes, it’s so cool!

(tagging people at the bottom of the post if you want to skip)

1. flowers, skies & words

grouping them together since they're all related to a wider, general literary device: symbols and allegories in my stories. Without fail, I’ll always use flower symbolism to evoke certain themes, places, characters... withered petals for death, blossoms for youth, you name it, it’s probably been in one of my stories. just consider my main WIP’s title, The Grave of Roses (Le Tombeau des Roses). It’s a little basic, and has been used time and time before in literature, but I still love it.

Other elements that often make it into my stories as symbols are planes (because I love aviation obviously, but also as a symbol of breaking free, independence, of man’s domination on mortality, what with having tamed the skies, but also his frail condition and how everything hangs on a thread). Also, the sky is pretty.

And lastly, words, stories, novels always have their place in my stories, and more often than not one of my characters is a writer, or someone who uses words and stories as some kind of comfort, outlet, or a driving force.

At its [the tombstone] foot, below the name, red roses piled up, enough of them to cover ten graves. A single vermilion bud, a wind-swept poppy, clashed with the rest of the bouquet, and Samuel knew that it was William's children who had placed it there. Only they knew that he didn't even like roses anymore, and that he would come to lay poppies on his father's memorial every time he returned to London...

The tomb was both smaller and prettier than Samuel imagined, less opulent than England would have wanted to give its precious child. The morning sun, like a caress, illuminated the epitaph, a Latin verse that Samuel had known in the past. “Bury me southward,” he heard William say so clearly that he almost turned around, "so that I can look at England and France in the same breath." His name, however, was drenched in full light, facing east, and inexplicably this saddened Samuel.

“And there it is... it's pretty, don't you think? I don't know if he would have liked it... You probably know it better than I do...”

“And why do you care about that, huh? You don't even believe in God.” “He's a writer. He believes in symbols.” “He believes in vanity, alright.”

“I think he would have liked it anyway,” he nodded in agreement, his eyes glued to the lonely poppy. (Translation)

2. parental roughnesses

this was bound to come, because I feel like we were all pretty fucked up at some point in our lives from our upbringing. I didn’t go for straight up “parental issues” because I don’t deal with like, abusive or absent parents or anything, just complicated relationships between parents and their children, but who still love each other. Oftentimes it has to do with one of the children idealizing the heck out of their parent and slowly realizing that they make mistakes and are not a hero at all, and/or unmeetable expectations and parental pressure. but it’s not like I’m projecting or anything lol

“You never knew Father, William,” Grace stopped him immediately [...]. “Don't you dare pretend you know what it's like.”

“Growing up without a father is not necessarily better than losing him in childhood! Everyone here has suffered from his disappearance, Grace. You have no idea how much I miss him, despite never meeting him. But that's all in the past now. And there's no reason for there to be another war.”

“Of course there is!” she retorted ferociously, despite the tears spilling from her eyes. “Of course there is, and they're going to send you there like Father, and you'll want to play hero like Father, and then you'll get shot down like a dog! Where's it going to be this time, huh? Above Luxembourg, just like him, or maybe somewhere in your beloved France?” (Translation)

3. patriotism

One way or another, all my stories always deal with patriotism, nationalism, pride in one’s country and more broadly speaking one’s relationship to it. It questions what it means to belong to a country, to share one culture, one language; does it justify acting in the benefit of one’s country, and where do you draw the line before you intentionnally harm others’; what even is a country, a nationality, and it what sense do you belong to one, and what do you owe it, if you even owe it anything? Is it wrong or right to feel love and attachment to your place of origin? And what does it mean to fight for your country, for its values, for its people? & other things of the like. It probably stems from my own experience as a binational person; growing up, I was always asked stuff like “but who do you root for in a football game” “but are you like really French or not?” “if Spain and France got into a war what would you do?”, and this all lead me to question “am I more French or am I more Spanish - which one am I, and which one would others perceive me to be - do I need to pick a side? And how can I express my affection to these places that raised me both differently, without undermining the other - or others? can I still be proud of my heritage given the horrors my countries have committed in the past?”. I still haven’t found a definitive answer, so my writing is just me throwing trails out to the world and hoping I’ll figure it out someday. that’s why my stories often have a war setting; firstly I just love historical fiction, and secondly it’s the perfect backdrop for all these questions to unfold.

William laughed at the idea - he, a true Frenchman! It was a very silly thought. He may have loved what he had seen of Charlotte's country, but England was not to be ashamed of any other land, for it was the only one he would love until his last breath. (Translation.)

4. just a hint of supernatural

I love me a good ghost story, and I’m a fan of everything spooky, but what’s subtly spooky, and not the gory, in-your-face horror. This particular theme may have increased since I saw The Haunting of Hill House which completely OBLITERATED ME with how it uses the house and its ghosts to tell a story of family and trauma and memories... but I’ve loved ghost stories forever. Another piece that truly resonated with me was One Hundred Years of Solitude (Cien años de soledad) by Gabriel García Márquez. It was my first dive into the world of magical realism and I didn’t make it out of there the same person I was when I entered. This one is not necessarily included in every piece without fail, because some are just too anchored in reality, but if it’s not a straight-up spirit or an otherworldly creature, I’ll always find a way to include an aspect of superstition, a myth, a legend, a tale from faraway that is neither proved nor disproved throughout the story. It truly adds to the atmosphere of the world, even in a very realistic and gritty setting, I believe.

I hear murmurs of legends among the soldiers. [...] One of those stories caught my attention, I must admit... It is not very special, nothing more than a children's tale, but I thought it was beautiful enough to please your Romantic soul. Some pilots speak of a cemetery, somewhere in the countryside north of London, which has something mystical about it, lost in the flowers that sway as far as the eye can see, in the calm rhythm of the wind, wrapped in the heady scent of eternal spring, and where the bravest warriors would go to rest forever, tired of their exploits and the continual explosions. No one knows exactly where it is or what to do to be buried there, but this beautiful image simply floats like a dream in the minds of many and, I confess, in mine as well since I first heard about it.

It is said that there only flowers dare to disturb the heroes in their sleep... This fragment of silence is called the Grave of the Roses.

So if I were to leave you, if you were to hear that I am gone...

With a bit of luck, that is where you will find me.

5. love

this one is broader and less obvious than you might think. Of course, I’ll always, always implement an element of romance to my story (and more often than not it’s angsty with star-crossed lovers or insurmountable obstacles or forbidden romances and whatnot), but there’s more to it. I don’t think I have ever written a story that is entirely grim and bleak, simply because I do not believe the world is built like that. I’ve said time and time again that love is my favorite thing in the world, and I believe it is the force that drives us all forward and connects us all together; love is, to me, the truest power of humanity, and its inherent purpose. And love covers all subjects and all types of relationships, but my absolute favorite ways to explore and show love in my stories is through long-lasting, rock-solid friendships (because friendships are often overlooked both in fiction and real life), and just a grandiose love letter to humanity as a whole. I’m an optimist, and many people who have suffered more than I have would deem me naive for thinking this - and I cannot blame them -, but as Anne Frank put it more bravely than I ever could, “despite everything, I still think humans are good at heart”. My stories are always born out of love and made for love. For the love of humanity and kindness and literature and love of myself, too, because sometimes I just like rereading the words and thinking, “wow, I’ve made it this far. look at me go.” In a word, yes, I would say that is what it boils down to; my work, but also what I hope my entire life and being will be. An ode to love.

“He admired you and truly loved you, you know. You were a good leader, I'm sure, and a good friend, above all.”

He thought she was going to put her hand on his shoulder, and prepared to bend to avoid it, but instead she came to rest on the polished marble of the tomb, which was already beginning to erode at the corners. The soft light bathed her hand, and Samuel's on the other corner, still resting above William's surname, the only thing he had been proud of from beginning to end.

“And I loved him too. I loved them all. If you only knew...”

well, I got carried away, as I always do when talking about my writing, but it made me miss it so much. I haven’t worked on any of my projects since literally October and I’m feeling the void rn. anyway, thank you again for enabling me to ramble about what I love most, Thais! and I’m tagging @softeninglooks, @lxncelot, @myriadimagines​, @swanimagines & @randomfandomimagine + plus any writer who wants to talk about their marvelous work <3

[scarluxia]

Let's talk about some Adventures I had in Phoenix, AZ in 2015. It came up in my FB Memories and even though I determined to let everything from last decade go, this one still rankles. I got "in trouble" with these people for being open about my experiences on my Facebook because, even though I hadn't mentioned names, they didn't like me "putting their business out there".

CW for ableism, depression, rejection sensitive dysphoria, and I'll try to put all that in the tags.

My partner, Loki (yes real name), and I had been urban camping in Portland, OR for about a month. It had gotten cold and rainy to the point where we couldn't safely stay living outdoors, and Loki's father (who didn't approve of me) had demanded he come back to California and live with Loki's uncle. He made it quite clear I was not welcome, so I ended up going to Arizona because I had a friend who was willing to put me up. She and I had known each other since 2008 and I figured I would be safe with her. At the time, Loki was much more easily influenced by what his family wanted, and we ended up having kind of a nasty set of conversations over whether he was abandoning me.

While in Portland, my wallet had been stolen so I had no ID or SS card. I had reported it stolen of course, but had received no response until I was leaving Arizona.

My friend in Arizona had two young sons, a husband, and a boyfriend. Now, I have some sensory issues that make it so I have a hard time being around children. High pitched noises hurt me to my bones, like, even now I have to leave the room if my son gets overly excited and starts shrieking.

I was sleeping on the couch in the living room, which was where the kids would go when they woke up and where the TVs and entertainment consoles were.

Anyway, they wanted me to contribute to the household and whatnot but I was severely depressed and I think I've provided all the context I can remember? If the rest of this doesn't make sense, please know that there was a part 1 but it came up in my Memories on a different day and i didn't think I would be rehashing it.

So I couldn't do work, couldn't do anything anyone had asked me to do to satisfaction because various things that did not, in fact, depend on me. Maybe I wasn't being enough of a ~team player~, I don't know. But anyway, I did my best with what I had. Sometimes, because of THE EXTREME FUCKING SENSORY ISSUES THAT COME WITH AUTISM, I would get overwhelmed by the kids screaming. Two little boys, barely school age, and their parents sat them in front of a TV and gave them controllers. That's it. They had toys in their room, sure, but they weren't getting outside. I suggested taking them out a couple times, but firstly, I didn't know the area and wasn't about to go out alone, and secondly, I can't split in half and I'm not in good shape, so even if I had known the area, I wouldn't have taken TWO small children outside to run around where they could run out of the designated area. I'm kind of anal that way, I guess. But Woman A (mum) and Man B ("uncle") never got off their arses to help me take them outside, and Man A was at work.

Oh, yes, parental interaction with the kids. Woman A loved her sons very much. But at their age (3 and 5), they both should have been toilet trained. They should have gotten at least two hours outside every day. They threw fits when they weren't allowed to play video games because, instead of games being a special treat that was earned with good behavior, they were toys carelessly tossed at the kids to keep them out of everyone's hair. Conversely, and bizarrely, reading to them WAS a special treat. The father woke up, played games, basically brushed off his kids, and went to work. Same when he got home for lunch, and he *ordered* us to have them in bed by the time he got home for good. The mum did somewhat interact with them, but mostly just wanted them out of her hair. I wasn't so nice because I'm not good with kids in general and also loud screeching HURTS, IT HURTS IT HURTS MAKE IT STOP. (Same with snoring, or any noise made when I want to sleep.) This isn't me being a ~diva~, it is an actual manifestation of a mental disability.

Woman A was of the opinion that "everyone who lives in a house with kids automatically becomes a coparent", maybe because she wasn't willing to actually parent her kids herself.

Note from the future: I still disagree with the idea that "anyone who lives in a house with kids is automatically a co-parent". Parent your own kids. I don't expect my dad to parent my son when we go visit him and he made it quite clear when I was pregnant that he would not take on a co-parenting role (because his wives 30-50 years ago had handled the babies and he doesn't really know how to calm them down beyond entertaining them)

She got a really bitchy look on her face whenever I (who have been around children, especially TROUBLED children, all my life) made any sort of suggestion. Well sorry, lady, but it's not like you're doing such a great job with them. Y'all act like you barely want anything to do with them. Like they're cute and little and fun to snuggle, but actually teaching them anything? Forget about it, just toss em a controller and hope they don't kill each other in the game or real life. Meanwhile, they have no outlet for their natural physical energy, no real outlet for their curiosity. They're going to grow up stupid and sedentary, with "no one paid attention to me during childhood except when it was convenient for THEM" to deal with. The older kid recently got on meds for a condition that, from what I observed, was likely much more nurture than nature. And what everyone ate, my God, those kids were the only non-overweight people in the house, and it's little wonder! I bought ACTUAL NUTRITIONAL food for everyone, and the adults look at me like I'm from some demon dimension. I made a light comment about how I'd never eaten anything like what they had growing up. You know, boxed potatoes, veggies out of a can, white bread, sugary peanut butter. And Woman A was like, "well YOU don't have kids."

Um, no, but my father did.

I have a kid now, am working part time at min. wage because my boss sees my performance as so-so (plus she's been forced to give me a raise every time the County of Where I Live raises the minimum), in a single-income household, on as much Family With Kids welfare as My County will allow, and I still wouldn't feed my kid that crap LOL

Spoiler alert: they made me use all my food stamps on their household and then kicked me out later that month so... When I bought food I bought HEALTHY food, like, I've been on food stamps my entire life... Also, WIC specifically pays for WHEAT bread, fruits & veggies, and they do let you get peanut butter without sugar so idk what was going on there with them.

My father was a SINGLE PARENT raising a daughter in America after 20 years of living in Europe and raising kids with his previous wives. Well, up until the divorces, anyway. I was the only kid he ever got to keep. He told me things about how the others had been raised compared to how I was raised, and I saw the outcomes of different parenting styles in my peers as well. My father was a very poor man whose trade had been outsourced and who struggled to support us for years. And yet, we never went hungry, and he never fed me boxed potatoes. Never fed me sugary peanut butter, white bread, or veggies out of a can.

Ok I understand canned veggies are better than no veggies, and not everyone can get fresh, but you CAN get frozen in AZ. I always had fresh or frozen growing up.

It wasn't because we were living in the lap of luxury. It's because...

HE FUCKING VALUED OUR HEALTH OVER CONVENIENT, CRAPPY, NUTRIENT-FREE FOOD!!!! This is not a difficult concept. He ALSO read to me every night, despite having what I now realise was a very grueling day at work just to put said healthy food on the table. I didn't get to watch TV or play computer games (edu-tainment, the only kind I was allowed) until after all my homework was done. I can't remember if I was a particularly active child, but I'm sure I had the OPTION!!!! TO GO OUT.

Meanwhile, when I was at various stages of my life, I met kids whose parents shunted them from guardian to guardian because they didn't want to deal with them, kids whose parents were kind and supportive but rubbish at enforcing discipline, kids whose parents were abusive in every kind of way, and kids whose parents did their best.

You know, I wasn't raised perfectly. My upbringing lacked social grace and included some toxic ideas about womanhood that I've only been learning to overcome recently in my adulthood. But DON'T FUCKING ACT LIKE I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT RAISING KIDS JUST BECAUSE I DON'T CURRENTLY HAVE ANY. I have my own life, the lives of my peers, and a wonderful online community of new parents raising children in kind and socially aware ways, to draw inspiration from. I can go to any one of them, and to my own parents, and ask "hey does X seem weird to you?" And they'll give me their honest opinion, which *is valuable*. I have even mapped out a general idea of how to get through some parts of my children's lives, and I'm not even planning to have kids for at least another few years. I mean, honestly, it used to be "I don't want kids ever", but dear gosh, if I can have any part of raising someone in a manner that defies procrastination culture, entitlement culture, and everything wrong with the way my husband and I were raised, maybe it wouldn't be a complete horror. If I can ensure that not all hope for the next generation is lost, hey.

Anyway, I've gone off topic...

I also had some issues with the men. Man B just didn't seem to like anything ever. I had no idea what Woman A saw in him. I remember one time he tried to tell me, a Christian, that I can't tell people what a "real Christian" is because it ~invalidates their identity~. Excuse me, no. It doesn't work that way. There are things that Christ taught, and anyone who blatantly goes against them IN THE NAME OF CHRISTIANITY, IS NOT A REAL CHRISTIAN. And yes, I realise this entire rant has been very judgey and technically I'm not supposed to do that either, but it's not like I'm saying they're going to Hell. Just that their kids are going to be sluggish and stupid, and I can't understand how these people have the gumption to try to lecture anyone else about life when they're not even TRYING to get their own lives together.

Yeah so they tried to lecture me about how I was "letting" Loki mistreat me and how I cared more about "socializing" with my estranged husband (I have separation anxiety) than helping around the house e_e They also implied I used depression as an excuse to be lazy.

Man B was supposedly "super employable." Well, okay, even though his "job hunt" seemed to consist more of sitting around playing video games, he was larger than my father (who is 6 ft tall with a protruding gut and weighs 240 lbs at last count) (My father and I are both 60 lbs above our ideal weights. But we're working on it!), and never seemed to get past the phone-screening process.

Now, Woman A told me that Man B was looking for work and that her family and some friends looked down on him for being a freeloader. Probably because she was anxious about me thinking the same. But here's the thing: I wouldn't have cared. Honestly. If you want to sit around playing games all day in your married girlfriend's apartment with her and her husband playing video games all day, go right ahead. If you want to bake three potatoes at a time and take them back to your room for a snack, hey, more power to you. But don't piss out the window and call it rain.

I don't care how employable you are, where you live, who you're living with, or what your lifestyle is like. It doesn't affect me in any way. But don't act like you're doing something you're not just to appease someone's judgmental family. That doesn't ever end well.

Now, see, I clearly have a problem with people who do that. I don't hide many aspects of myself, though I will refuse to answer a question if I feel it's none of someone's business or if they're just asking it to be a judgmental asshole. I refuse to compromise myself or my safe space to accommodate someone who can't make peace with who they are. Hell, you know me! You know my show!

Wait, this is Tumblr, so you might not know my show. It's a YouTube storyboard dedicated to processing and mocking some spiritual and psychological abuse I've undergone in my life. On Facebook, it was one of the things I was known for at the time because I was constantly posting clips and art, and trying to recruit voice actors.

I sell anyone out who I catch lying to me about anything! That's nothing new! And these people knew that about me. For SEVEN. FUCKING. YEARS.

So anyway. Woman A has a lot of great short term goals but no actual follow through because "I'm just not in the mood right now." No judgment there. I've totally been there. The only problem is when it gets ME in trouble.

"Let's walk the dog." "I'm not in the mood." Okay, then the dog doesn't get walked because I can't figure out my way around the place alone.

"Let's do the dishes." Woman A doesn't let me know when the washer stopped. Okay. Then the rest of the dishes don't get washed.

"Let's take the kids outside." "No I'm too tired." Okay, then they're going to be RUNNING AROUND THE APARTMENT SCREAMING WHICH MY EARS CANNOT FUCKING HANDLE so bye I'm just gonna borrow your room and isolate myself for a bit.

"Let's go to the gym!" "Maybe later." But later never comes.

Do you see where I'm going here? As for the men, they BOTH complain that they're "doing too much" around the house. Okay, probably fair for Man A, who works full time and deserves to come home to a clean house. But Man B. Wtf. You literally do nothing, except when you do, and when you do, we're meant to throw you a parade? That's not how adulthood works, or so I've heard.

Note: All three of these people are older than me. I was 24? at the time, fresh out of trade school, on my own for the first time in my life. (Maybe 2nd? I ran away when I was 17 but ended up with my grandparents so idk if that counts.) Woman A was 26 at the time and had been married since 2008, had experience with office work and parenthood, etc. Both men were older than her. I was a chronological adult with the life experience of a teenager, so I felt comfortable saying that.

So did I mention that I'm sleeping in the living room during this stay? And the adults don't go to bed until like 2 AM, which means, because of my disability, wherein I cannot sleep if there's any sort of non-ambient noise, *I* don't get to sleep until AFTER 2 AM. And the kids? They come in the living room screaming at 6 AM. Yep. Okay. Living on 4 hours of sleep, for the mathematically challenged. That and dealing with the emotional turmoil of being separated from my husband when I've got high separation anxiety in the first place. All my pain, everything, it's up to 11. and I'm supposed to contribute but there's not really anything that allows me to contribute.

So what do they do? They ambush me. Call a "family meeting" to tell me absolutely everything that's wrong with me, after WEEKS of telling me what a big help I am and how grateful they are to have me around. Tell me I'm letting my "social life" get in the way of me helping around the house. Hmm. Social life. You mean, VENTING IN MY SAFE SPACE (Facebook, no names named) AND TRYING TO MEND THINGS WITH MY HUSBAND??????????????? Okay. Well since you guys treat your woman like shit, you clearly don't understand or appreciate devotion to one's spouse. Seriously. Woman A told me she used to have extreme separation anxiety with Man A, and that he would brush off her emotions as irrelevant. Her solution was to make it a poly relationship and take a lover WHO TREATS HER THE EXACT SAME WAY. I'm serious. She got no emotional support from either of them. They basically just threw pills at her and trained her to lie down until her feelings went away.

And she had the gall to lecture me (24 at the time) about how Loki (19 at the time & from a pretty horrific family) treated me. LOL ok. Log. Splinter.

As she knew, I'm monogamous. I do have some opinions on polyamoury based on individuals I've gotten to know who are in those types of relationships, but those opinions are irrelevant to this series of rants. Except one, which is pertinent: if you're going to take another lover, they should provide something that your existing lover(s) don't. If you're suffering from low emotional support and you just find someone else who doesn't emotionally support you and who treats you like a child who can't be trusted??? What are you even DOING? Like, she told me NEITHER of her men trust her judgment. What the fuck is a relationship without trust? And don't even try "dick too bomb" as an excuse when you tell me you haven't gotten laid in months and your husband is using your condoms on Woman B.

They don't support you. They don't trust you. And yet YOU'RE telling ME that things with my husband won't get better unless I follow your lead and take another lover? HELL TO THE NO. My husband has his faults, but if I tell him Person X can be trusted, he believes me.

Except for his ex-girlfriend whom he tried to add to our relationship when he tried to be poly, months later. That went Badly.

Or maybe he just knows I'll deal with them myself, with my hot, hot temper, if they turn out not to be trustworthy. He also doesn't treat me LIKE A CHILD. And while I sometimes point at things and make small motions when I can't physically talk, or sometimes even use baby talk when I'm feeling cutesy, I DON'T POINT AT A PIECE OF PAPER AND GO "THE CARRRRRR!!!!" IN AN INCREASINGLY HIGHER PITCH BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SAY, "Honey, I think we missed the car payment this month. Can you double check while the agent has you on hold, please?"

Okay, being a dick about losing words due to stress was not my finest moment, but at the time, I was just so appalled by how they treated her and how she allowed them to treat me.

So basically these adults who are nowhere near having their lives together, and aren't even really trying, put me on blast for not having everything running perfectly when THEY expected it to.

Let's reiterate. I couldn't get a job because I had no ID or social security card. I was waiting for them to be returned to me. I couldn't walk the kids or the dog, go to the gym, or complete all the household chores because no one would guide me. I need that guidance because of various components of my disability, which I really hate admitting to because I'm super fucking prideful, but I figured hey, she's not neurotypical either. These people will understand.

Their response when I brought this up? "You're an adult. You should know better." Sure, okay. But you should know that a child ought to be potty trained before he turns 5, or even 3; that kids need to run around, are entitled to their parents' attention and consistent discipline, and need!!! healthy!!!! food!!!!

Oh, discipline! So, she would send Older Boy to his room over misbehaving. But rather than enforce time-out, she'd go, "oh, I think I'm being too haaaard on him," and just... Relinquish. He's not about to learn anything that way, ma'am.

They called me trying to reconnect with the person I love more than almost anyone on this earth "obsessing over your social life". Well again, you treat your woman like shit, so MAYBE my undying devotion to the person I love goes a LITTLE bit over your head.

They told me that the household should be my first priority. Except no, because I am an autonomous person and my FIRST PRIORITY is, was, and ever has been the love of my life, whomever that may be at the time. That is 70% of my personality. I'm pretty sure anyone who had ever met me can vouch for my extreme devotion, and this woman had known me for SEVEN. YEARS. I'm not going to throw away 70% of myself to do an impossible task that no one will help me with.

They told me a lot of things I wasn't doing right, and for those of you who also struggle with anxiety and depression, you know that being told for weeks that everything is okay and you're so great and so helpful, and then being told that you're rubbish at everything... You know that that is hurtful. Devastating, even. I wanted to kill myself. I said that. I said that and expressed my feelings about some other things, in my safe space, without naming any names.

And even though I was posting in my safe space, I was polite about it. I was as gentle and rational as possible. I wasn't calling anyone out. Not like I am now. I wasn't trying to lead a witch hunt. I was just overwhelmed and trying to express my feelings. Trying to get myself not to kill myself. I had to tell myself over and over again that it's not what Loki would want for me.

In the morning, they woke me up and kicked me out. Said it was rude for me to say I don't care about their household. I never, NEVER said that. I said "Loki is my first priority." Something along the lines of "that's just how I am and I shouldn't be vilified for it." That doesn't mean I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE. IT JUST MEANS THAT MY PRIORITIES WILL *NEVER* BE WHAT SOMEONE ELSE WANTS THEM TO BE. I AM A PERSON. I HAVE THE RIGHT TO DECIDE WHAT TO PRIORITISE, AND I HAVE THE RIGHT TO LOVE MY HUSBAND!!!

I MEAN, FOR FUCK'S SAKE. MY NAME IS *SIGYN*. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU IGNORANT ASSHOLES EXPECT?! WHY THE HELL SHOULD YOU HAVE FELT THREATENED BY ME SAYING ANYTHING IF I DIDN'T NAME NAMES AND WAS ACTUALLY RATIONAL? IF YOU SAW THIS, *MAYBE* YOU WOULD HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE PISSY, BUT NOT THEN!

They kicked me out after having asked me to buy them all food. I had used up all my food stamps. Because I hadn't anticipated this at all. I hadn't known they would take such offence to my existence, to my ways. To the fact that I value the man I married more than I value... Whatever they wanted me to value, I guess.

Fun fact: I ended up in a women's shelter after this, and one woman told me to actually kill myself because she was tired of hearing me cry at night.

They said I hadn't made any effort to get my life on track. Because I can just snap my fingers and make my ID appear. Because I can just manifest the money for a replacement. They said all these things that left me almost unable to breathe, in retaliation for me posting that I was suicidal.

Later, Woman A told me that this had been a long time coming and that they were trying to make room for Woman B and Woman C, both of whom were willing to have sex with the men, which is something that I would not. I feel the first woman I met at the shelter was accurate when she said they basically kicked me out because I wouldn't sleep with them.

I also later found out that my ID and SS card had been returned to sender. The Portland PD called me and told me. So my father came to the conclusion that the people I had been staying with sabotaged me from the start. For a while, I didn't feel it, but last night I dreamed about it, and the dream made me angry. I didn't deserve to be treated that way. And I really had to get all this off my chest, so for those of you who didn't immediately whip out your tiny violins, thank you.

[feminetflix]

De atracos y ab*rtos - Of heists and ab*rtions or How women are being robbed.

⚠️ this contains major spoilers for LA CASA DE PAPEL / MONEY HEIST season 1, specifically episode 3!

Personally, I have experienced the series la casa de papel (original title) or money heist as progressive, realistic and not afraid to deal with certain topics like domestic violence which I will be commenting on in posts yet to be published, female trans representation and occasionally peppered with numerous feminist parentheses (see characters like Nairobi and dialogues around/involving her opinion).

However, there are certain aspects I did not enjoy to watch / do not support. That is normal and every show has its flaws, those resulting all the more dangerous however, as money heist is not just any show. The series is thanks to its popularity by now a relevant aspect of people’s opinion-forming and plays into the perception of many people all around the world, coming from different cultures and having experienced all kinds of upbringing. The target audience is not specified, yet crime drama (the genre) is estimated to target both females and males aged 15-40 years old. Means, also targeting minors and adolescents. Again, all cultures / religions / races / classes etc etc included.

I am fully aware that this kind of range was not expected and therefore not taken into account by producers, talking about the first two seasons that were solely meant for a Spanish audience, not an international one. (The series was initially intended as a limited series to be told in two parts. It had its original run of 15 episodes on Spanish network Antena 3 from 2 May 2017 through 23 November 2017. Netflix acquired global streaming rights in late 2017). The analysed / discussed scene is indeed part of this maybe not so carefully crafted content. Cough.

Let’s get right into it.

Characters interacting: Mónica Gaztambide (Esther Acebo), one of the hostages who was also Arturo Román's secretary and introduced as his mistress and “Denver” (Jaime Lorente), one of the robbers participating in the heist [Denver is an alias, all robbers being referred to with city names]

Context: Mónica has an affair with Arturo Román (Enrique Arce) -hostage and former Director of the Royal Mint of Spain- which leads to an unwanted pregnancy. Numerous factors influence her (for now) final decision: she doesn’t want the child. Shortly after, the robbery unfolds and she’s taken hostage among other people. She then requests an ab*rtion pill, which at some point arrives in the mint alongside other medical supplies. The scene analysed: one of the robbers (Denver) is supposed to hand her mentioned ab*rtion pill. Before that he holds an emotional speech on the subject, morally risen forefinger, accusations and tears included.

Here the dialogue without comments:

————Now my opinion / the actual post:

“You need money, right?” One might think that the amount of money seen in this frame (20.000,-€ approx. $21.701,50 according to Denver) is an exaggerated, way too generous gesture. Let me tell you, it is not.

According to a 2017 report from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, the average cost of raising a child from birth [to] age 17 is $233,610. If that made your heart skip a beat, take a deep breath before you read on. Incorporating inflation costs, it will be more like $284,570. Since that’s based on 2015 numbers, we can expect the cost will be even higher, babies born since then.

[…] This average includes everything from housing, food and transportation to healthcare, education and childcare to clothing, personal care items and entertainment.

Let me now remind you that Mónica is a secretary, so she likely earns (barely) enough money to be financially independent herself (taking into account that she lives near or maybe even in Madrid, her workplace, the Royal Mint situated there, so housing alone is hella expensive) and can’t really expect reliable support coming from the potential child’s father, Arturo Román, either, who initially denied support himself, their relationship a secret to the family and wife he already has. Phew.

Btw: A University of California at San Francisco study found that women who were turned away from ab*rtion clinics […] were three times more likely to be below the poverty level two years later than women who were able to obtain ab*rtions. 76% of the "turnaways" ended up on unemployment benefits, compared with 44% of the women who had ab*rtions.

“Enough to get the kid diapers until he graduates.” The problem or let’s say points raised above are now also being ridiculed or not taken seriously to say the least.

She takes the money, sticking to her decision however. “So, what’s the problem?” Or “Then, what is it?” A million additional things, Denver, believe it or not a potential child is a big deal. That and none of your business.

Also, see the reaction? How he stares at her in disbelief (and possibly even disgust, see the risen corner of his lips?). How he looks at her as if she were heartless, selfish, a monster – the picture often painted in this debate when it comes to women who decide to terminate a pregnancy. How he doesn’t respect her “no, thanks” and continues. Continues influencing her, later on even starts to mansplain his way into her stone cold heart. Okay, then let me continue as well.

“That he’ll f*ck up your life? […] Your son. Better to have your life f*cked up by your son than any of these sons of b*tches. Or me.” Call it ‘f*ck up’ or not – that is entirely her perception, her decision and I’d dare to say…she knows best.

First, because regardless of the fact that she is a woman and you are not – well it is indeed her life and, uhm, excuse me Denver, you’re no sibling, no friend, no acquaintance, quite the contrary, you have known her for what? Three minutes and already jump to conclusions?

Take the privilege of explaining her how a child would f*ck or not f*ck up her life?!!

Secondly, what makes him assume the gender of this cluster of cells, this potential future life, this basis for a potential life that may later on develop into a life (it is not a walking talking baby boy already, my friend!).

Personhood begins after a fetus becomes “viable” (able to survive outside the womb) or after birth, not at conception.

Does it provide a smooth transition for that awfully funny and figurative “son” – “sons of b*tches” (org. Hijo – hijos de p*ta) line or is it literal propaganda?

Why does he say “your son”, although he cannot possibly know? I’ll tell you. In order to distract the audience from the fact that he is referring to a pea-sized basis for a potential life by painting the picture of an already existing male human being. Mónica, do you really want to murder your son? Mónica, does that cute little doe eyed baby boy really f*ck up your life? Yeah, propaganda at its best.

Also, another example for ridiculing the point “a child would destroy my life” by comparing an unwanted pregnancy to a literal robbery at gun point. Great one.

“This f*cks your life up. A kid doesn’t.” Do you see that raised gun, that is quite literally an extension of a raised index finger? Wow, the drama. On a different note, did you notice the symbolism? A weapon stands for death, murder and guess what is also often equated with murder.

“How do you know what f*cks up my life? What do you know?” Finally. Exactly. He doesn’t know her, like at all. He doesn’t know her situation and no, he’s also not the pregnant one or anyone who would have to worry about that.

What do you answer to that, hmm? Let’s make this whole dispute even more emotional and dramatic. That ‘a cute little son isn’t as bad as a robbery’ didn’t convince her?

Let’s try with an extraordinary f*cked up and tragic life story, nobody asked for. Its goal? Showing the oblivious, naive, little secretary what real ‘f*ck up’ means, despite the evident lack of any sort of knowledge when it comes to her life (story). Again, conclusion-jumping and wallowing in prejudice at its best.

Have a look at his expression while ‘lecturing’ her. How disrespectful, how belittling. ‘Oh please, what do you know about life?’. On a wider scale: ‘How could we possibly trust women to rationally and with a clear conscience decide such things for themselves – concerning life and death, if they have not the slightest idea, living in their bubble of security and stability and no real problems’ etc. This is everything but taking women and their reasoning abilities, their judgement seriously.

“My mother was going to ab*rt me.” Now the audience doesn’t only have the mental image of a potential cute little son, it is furthermore provided with the image of a living, breathing human being standing right in front of them. Just look at him and his pleading puppy dog eyes. No actual child actor could have done it better.

Thank god she did not go through with the ab*rtion, right? Oh thank god she was not allowed to.

Taking advantage of this frame to remind you of the fact that we are still talking about a POTENTIAL future life, not an existing one that is nevertheless put above the mother’s already existing life in this impudent, low and unfair debate.

“But first…she inhaled the heroin she had to sell to be able to pay for the ab*rtion. Then she was caught by the police. Between jail, drugs and the police, I was born. What do you know?”

1)Adding even more emotions, subtle accusations and drama to that oh so rational dispute? Check. Making his situation seem two thousand times worse than hers (which he, again, has no clue about)? Check. Subconsciously painting the picture of reckless, irresponsible drug addicts/ “lowlifes” or generally female members of “society’s margins” usually being the ones to abort and make it seem like the state’s or whoever’s responsibility to prevent them from deciding for themselves? Check.

2) Then he even tears her valid ‘what do you know (about my life)’ out of the initial context of being confronted with endless assumptions and prejudice and blows it way out of proportion in order to demonstrate the insignificance of … everything concerning her? Her background, her life, her reasons. Everything.

And FINALLY *drum rolls* the wild theories and hypotheses and presumptions she was dying to hear because since he, I repeat for the twelfth time, has no actual clue about her life, let’s make up one.

“Because it seems that you don’t have a very exciting job. And maybe outside of work your life is not that great either. Or what is it that you do? ‘Kilates’? And Friday night drinks, right? What a f*cking drag. Another plan ruined by the kid[…]” That and the entire following paragraph. Wow. All accusations thrown at women who decide to abort in one.

Because OF COURSE a middle aged, down to earth, intelligent, responsible woman like Mónica Gaztambide has no other reason for terminating a pregnancy than not being able to drink alcoholic beverages or party anymore. Because OF COURSE it is valid to assume a woman or any person for that matter one has known for half an hour and interacted with for literal five minutes has a boring enough life that would not be affected in any way by a pregnancy, birth and ultimately being forced to raise an unwanted child. Because OF COURSE Denver would know how much a pregnancy can affect somebody, especially one that is forced upon a person. Quite frankly he has no idea and no right. The audacity.

“Do [your friends who are also mothers] seem f*cked up? / Do their lives look f*cked up? No, right?” Because you know best. Not only regarding her life but on top of that also that of her friends. Because those pregnancies or motherhood in general did under no circumstances end a career or prevent them from pursuing one in the first place or cause the end of a relationship or force them to stay in a toxic or even abusive relationship or change their financial situation completely or rob them of their fragile financial independence and/or free time altogether or cause any (mental) health complications or … you get the point. Oh, and because their situations are completely identical to Mónica’s situation, that is additionally not half as dramatic as your life story. Of course, Denver.

Seeing the ‘rational’ argument doesn’t really work, let’s add yet another dramatic, emotional rhetorical question. As a precaution.

“Do you know how much a child can love you?”

How could she, being the heartless, cruel, selfish, irresponsible, ridiculous and impulsive murderess you’re ‘exposing’ her as?

⚠️ Another spoiler warning for seasons 3 and 4 and still 1.

Would Cincinnati - that’s her sons actual name, not alias – really love her like he does now?

Friendly reminder: his biological father (Arturo Román) let her know - right from the start - that he wouldn’t take on any responsibility whatsoever, regardless of his later statements about doing so. Why those statements don’t matter? Despite his awareness of her state, despite knowing she was pregnant he shortly after urges her on to steal the cellphone she is caught with right after the analysed scene, ready to risk her life and the potential life of his unborn child. Literally, because as soon as she is caught with it, Berlín orders Denver to execute her.

So to those of you who will now say “but- but Cincinnati is okay and has an amazing life and does love her” etc etc, first think certain things through. If Denver wouldn’t have spared her, if she didn’t just happen to get together with him and if the heist didn’t just happen to work out like that, what then?

Cincinnati would have a different name. What else? Well for one, he wouldn’t have a father (that is now Denver) like at all, resulting in possible daddy issues / issues in general. How I know Arturo, the biological father, wouldn’t be there for them, wouldn’t fulfill all his empty promises?

Did he canonically care about his son? Was he devastated that he was not given the possibility to see him or did he instead focus on that random book of his and his speeches about heroism and honour and so on? If he wouldn’t have called his wife by his mistress’s name and through that expose himself, if his family wouldn’t have left him all alone, don’t you think he would stick to them? Just to paint a picture of who the father is and how he behaves and what we can assume from that behaviour. So the probability was high she would’ve been left alone with I quote “all the love” and of course all the responsibility. It’s a thing, Denver.

Secondly, if she didn’t just happen to turn into a millionaire thanks to the heist working out, would she really be able to provide a life for Cincinnati? Would she really be able to remain financially independent? Would her life at her son’s side really be all peace and harmony if she wouldn’t just so happen to be able to live from heist money?

So many coincidences, so many risks and no security. Can we really blame her? Do we have the right?

With these questions I will end this seemingly endless post and leave you to think about it, reflect certain things and – if you want to – share your opinion(s) with me. Please don’t hesitate to do so, as long as those contain rational arguments and most importantly respect. Thank you for reading!

(Also: sorry for the extensive censoring, I had to, otherwise it wouldn’t appear in the tags.)

[lgcmax]

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎 ! i’m coming to you with a very late intro, i know, but i swear i’m not usually this unprepared !! anyways, my name is jada, and this is my chaotic baby maxwell “ MAX ” choi ! i love him to death already and can’t wait to start writing with him ! i was here long ago with the short-lived yet beloved zhao chenglei, but life got in the way ! the two are very different, yet i’m even more stoked to be here the second time around & get things going ! i did create him kind of spontaneously, so his plots & bio page is still wip, but you can find his profile here, and some trivia & plot bunnies below ! oh, and LIKE THIS if you’d like to plot, maybe ? i’ll stop talking now, but i hope to hear from you soon !

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 !

first generation canadian who hails from toronto, canada ! a snow baby forever and always, he loved living there and has nothing but good memories there !

he was born maxwell choi, and he’s still called that by family and some old friends, but once he got to middle school he felt the name was too fancy and wasn’t fitting so dropped the “well” and just became MAX !

though he’s canadian, he’s never really felt he was lacking in terms of his korean identity ! both his parents were born and raised there, korean is actually his first language, and he was taught english through school. since he was two he’s been going to korea for the summer to visit his family, too,  so he’s always felt really connected to his culture !

his dad’s a car salesman at his own dealerhsip, and his mom’s an attorney, so he’s lived a really comfortable life. it’s easy to see where his charisma comes from, too ! growing up his dad was more involved in his upbringing, while his mom was on the colder side, so he’s closer to him as he’s the one who was the most loving toward him then and now !

he was expected to take over his dad’s position at the dealership when he was older, but as he grew up he noticed his absolute lack of passion for the career. he thought it fit his dad well, yet couldn’t see him doing something like that !

but during his teenage years he discovered his love for rap ! he always loved listening to it, but when he started rapping along he discovered his true passion.

he didn’t really know what to do with that, however, as it wasn’t a very stable career ! it wasn’t until 2016 when he met someone online through a video game & they became friends that things changed ! they would talk a lot & eventually they introduced him to the world of kpop and ... boom ! everything changed for him. when he realized it wasn’t all girls in frilly skirts ( which hey, wasn’t too bad either ) he found himself being engulfed in this entirely new music genre !

fast forward all the way to 2019, when he auditioned for the company ! it was in january, and there was no way he thought he was gonna make it. they were giving out cds to those who auditioned, and he really just wanted to hear some haru, but it was quite literally the biggest surprise of his life when he got accepted !

his mom was enitrely, and i mean e n t i r e l y, against the idea. she thought a career in the idol industry was fleeting and not profitable and thought it was an embarrassment for him to be apart of. while his father wasn’t thrilled and still has hopes for him to inherit the dealership, he was content seeing his son happy and hoped for his success.

so off max went, to the big city of seoul !! unlike some foreign trainees it wasn’t some great transition for him, in fact he adjusted pretty well ! he had the benefit of being well-travelled and having visited the country often, as well as being comfortable in his korean.

it wasn’t all peaches and roses, however, and he did have some difficulty ! it was the first time he was coming to stay, so he had a tendency to get homestick, and despite everything, he still stuck out. he had a lot of mannerisms, style choices, and just obvious indicators he was a foreigner. he also had to finish off the last semester of his senior year in korea, and he was bummed he missed out on those senior year experiences like graduation, senior parties, and just being with the people he’d grown up with !

whenever he was having trouble, he couldn’t really call home either, since he knew they doubted him and didn’t want to give them any more reason to ! he’s not really the type to share when he’s feeling down, so he really internalized a lot of his emotions at the time, and the bit that he didn’t he confided in with his few friends he’d made by then. definitely a bit of a rough patch for him !

he also may have had some trouble getting along with trainees ! he has a very blunt & extroverted personality, which didn’t really fit with typical korean social norms !

 aside from that, max was a LOT more chill than some of these people. he was passionate about rapping, but some trainees were “debut-or-die” level and he just wasn’t that far ! he’d just kind of look at them like .... why are you making this such a big deal ? i’m just here to have fun ?? so he had a tendency to slack off a lot during the first few months of training and try to bend the rules as much as he could behind the trainer’s backs without getting caught ! which i can imagine would get on some trainee’s nerves.

he does go to university, a condition by his parents for letting him go to korea. he’s a music production major and marketing minor at the moment, but he’s changed his mind quite a few times ! honestly, he’s not all that interested in attending school, but doesn’t have much of a choice and knows it’s an important backup should this whole idol thing not work ! he does enjoy the social life he gets from it, though, because he would’ve had a much harder time adjusting and meeting friends had he not been in school.

now, he’s still pretty sluggish, but after a few company punishments, he’s shaping up and learning how to work harder. he just passed his year anniversary training with the company, and though he has a lot to learn he’s showed promise in his time there !

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 !

very extroverted !!! and he always has been. he feels really comfortable and large environments and is the main reason he thrives as an idol ! can and will pick up a conversation with just about anyone, particularly those who aren’t like him but rather on the more introverted spectrum !

like stated before, he doesn’t really like talking about his emotions if they’re personal / negative. it makes him uncomfortable & awkward and thinks it makes everyone else feel that way too, so avoids it like the plague. if he’s emotional with you ... you’re a keeper !

tends to make light out of every scenario, due to his optimistic nature. he has the mentality that life’s too short to be stressed, so does his best to avoid it whenever he gets the chance ! it can be appropriate at times, and sometimes people perceive it as him not taking things seriously, but really he’s trying to make things better !

a little cocky, considering his lack of experience. he kind of thinks he’s the s***, and he honestly could use a little more humility ! but he’s used to being held on this sort of pedestal, and because of it has a looot of confidence a lot of the time !

very loyal, once you befriend him he’s yours for life ! he values trust and longevity in a friendship, so does his all to give it to you. on the other hand, if you lose his trust, things .... get a little disastrous. he isn’t one to forgive something like that and will quite literally block someone out his life if they do break his trust.

on that note ... he’s also very stubborn !! he likes things the way he wants them, and can hold a grudge for years if he wants to. this is one of the exceptions to his “ hakuna matata ” mentality lmao, but he’s working on it ! he used to have trouble accepting criticism from trainers if he didn’t agree with them, but is slowly getting better at listening to feedback in order to improve.

tends to be a little manipulative ! he doesn’t mean to use it maliciously, but it does sometimes go like that. like i said, he’s got that desire to win other’s over to get what he wants like his parents, so ... that can translate into a little deception !

loves loves loves video games !!! will talk about them all day, if you ask. he’s been hooked ever since the first time he got a controller in his hand and is always looking for some new gaming buddies !

has a secret tiktok account that he can’t really publicize but people have to know ?? he just renegades too good not to have some practice folks

he compulsively says “ let’s get it ” and “ boom ” like the joke he is and it’s a problem, really !! someone please call him out or just .... stop him

also !! he is entirely too CLUMSY for his good. he trips over people, trips over his own limbs, trips over a i r !! there’s just no telling with this guy. he’s so stupid when it comes to coordination, i swear, i almost worry he needs to see a doctor lmao !! but thank god for his clumsiness coming in handy at the exact moment he needs to have a little humility.

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 !

the friend he played video games with who introduced him to kpop ( see above ) !! they’ve been friends for roughly 3 years now and they’re the reason he even considered pursuing a career as an idol, so i imagine they’ve grown pretty close ! since they played online, this person doesn’t have to be from canada, and really any muse that knew korean or english well enough to communicate back then ! 

are there any canadian muses ?? i’m not sure ! if there is, i’d love to have some childhood friends who he grew up with ! give me all the angst, softness, or romance that you can muster up !! i love a good backstory.

some friends who he spent the summers in korea with ! he visited june through august of every year, and sometimes spent other holiday breaks there. so there’s definitely a chance for them to grow close ! maybe even a short-lived romance where they hadn’t expected to meet again ??

a senior / older trainee who showed max the ropes ! while he knew a good deal about korea he didn’t have a clue about being a trainee, so definitely could’ve used a bit of help there !! unintentionally this person became a sort of parental figure to max, even if they didn’t mean to or if they’re not significantly older ! either way, they were his first real source of support since the move, and nowadays he’s still very close to them and looks to them for any sort of help or advice he needs !

pleeeeease give him a little crush !! he goes out his way to impress those that he likes, and turns into a true softie !! on the other hand, a bitter exes plot or even exes on good terms could be fun too ! can you tell i’m a romantic yet ? 😥

someone who’s entirely put off by the thought of max ! someone who, unlike him, is planned, logical, or very cutthroat and passionate about becoming an idol ! give me someone to nitpick him for his lifestyle, and someone for him to bicker with and just create a little drama !! 

video game buddies !! he doesn’t have the whole setup like he used to back home, but he does nearly always have his switch on him if your muse is in the mood for a little friendly competition !! fair warning .... he does get competitive !

male dorm h and male rookie evening trainee group gang, let’s go !! that’s a lot to say, but in simple terms, if your muse trains or dorms with him let’s get something going ! max is still a new trainee and needs some friends to spend the long days with, he promises to  make it worth their while !! max has the power of making nearly every scenario entertaining, after all !

[strwbrymoonchild]

7 Latinx Creatives Discuss How Their Identity Influences Their Work

Navigating creative industries comes with its fair share of challenges regardless of cultural or racial background, but the unique struggles Latinx artists face are often influenced by both familial and societal expectations specific to their cultural identity. Intergenerational disconnect and feeling detached from their heritage, minimal media representation, code-switching, and feeling unwelcomed in the current political landscape can be challenging and painful to navigate. In honor of Hispanic Heritage Month, we're highlighting seven Latinx creatives who talked to us about the power of embracing and exploring their identity in their work and how it informs the way they navigate creative spaces and society as a whole.

Ludi Leiva

Location: Los Angeles Website  Instagram

Ludi Leiva is a multidisciplinary storyteller, primarily working as an illustrator. Her work focuses on women and femmes of color with themes of healing and expansion. 

“... My identity is tied to my work. Sometimes it shows up in explicit ways—whether that's incorporating Latin American art motifs, themes, and colors that inspire me, drawing inspiration from the mountainous landscapes of Guatemala and also places I've lived, or otherwise. My work has always incorporated diverse bodies, of different colors, shapes, sizes, and identities, and I think that's directly correlated to my own experiences navigating the world as a mixed-race person of the diaspora as well as curiosity about how I occupy different liminal spaces.”

Karen Vidangos

Location: Washington D.C. Website  Instagram

Karen Vidangos is a social media specialist who has created her own digital spaces, Latina in a Museum and LatnixCurated, to promote the Latinx experience in the arts and museum space. 

“Without my identity, this work would not exist. It informs every aspect...because I understand how little the Latinx community is considered within the museum field. I want to change that. Moving through the art world as a Latina has had its pros and cons. The pros only came from overcoming the cons and realizing there is power in embracing my identity. It isn't easy being a woman of color in a mostly white field. You are expected to code-switch, accommodate, hide, be complacent, the list goes on and on....but I have been able to withstand it and be bold about who I am, hopefully, so that others coming in the field don't have to be.”

Naydeline Mejia

Location: Bronx, New York Website  Instagram

Naydeline Mejia is a freelance writer, editor, and content creator focused on destigmatizing mental health in the Latinx community and challenging the industry’s perspective on beauty. Her work has been featured in Remezcla, Refinery29, and Shape, among others. 

“My identity as an Afro-Latina informs my work immensely––I am always trying to find ways to amplify the voices of Afro-Latinx and BIPOC folks, and at times I'll tell my personal stories because it might resonate with someone of a similar background or upbringing. Additionally, as a young woman of color, I always try to create socially conscious writing, and I am always empathetic to the stories of the people I feature or interact with.”

Steven Ward

Location: Los Angeles Website  Instagram

Steven Ward is a photographer focused on concert photography with the occasional creative portrait shoot, where his unique style aids in enhancing the vibrant colors of his subjects. 

“...I've realized that despite claims, often by Latinx people, that I am "less" my racial identity than them because I don't speak Spanish or look like them, I know now that everything about me is part of my unique Latinx identity. I am a Latino man, so my creative process is just as influenced by that upbringing, that familiarity with that culture and identity, as it is by everything else I come into contact with. I carry my Latinx identity with me constantly, it might look a little different than other people's, but that's okay. For me, it is more about recognizing my privileged position in the Latinx community as a man, as it's one I can use to elevate those other voices in the community that are ignored or repressed.”

Bianca Nemelc

Location: New York City Website  Instagram

Bianca Nemelc is a painter whose work focuses on celebrating the body, and exploring how we interact with nature.

“My identity definitely informs my work in the way that it serves as a jumping-off point for the narratives I try to investigate in my paintings. I come from a multicultural, multiracial family that spans across countries; from the Dominican Republic to Suriname to Indonesia and so, that alone has really grounded me in wanting to understand where I come from...I'm interested in understanding the impacts it could have to identify with landscapes in the way that we do with other cultural signifiers- like flags or languages.”

Carlinn Marie

Location: Virginia Website  Instagram

Carlinn Marie is a content creator with work ranging from creative direction on Instagram to beauty content on Youtube. 

“Identifying as both Black and Boricua can be full of complexities, but I wouldn't trade it por el mundo. Estoy muy orgulloso de mi patrimonio y amo a mi gente! Full of strength, grace, beauty, and resilience. My identity has shaped the way I see the world and create my art. I pull much of my inspiration from my cultures. I do my best to shine light on BIPOC globally as well as Black people within the Latinx community. We are often forgotten about and looked over, and I love to show others just how much beauty there is in our communities. We are proud of our roots, we love to celebrate the richness of our culture and who we are.”

Solmyra Araiza

Location: Pomona, CA Website  Instagram

Solmyra Araiza is a model, classically trained actress, and content creator. While she began her career in theater, she has since transitioned to film. 

“My identity seems to be ever-changing as I continue to grow and learn more about myself. Indie films such as Alejandro González Iñárritu’s, “Amores Perros”, “21 Grams”, and “Babel”, always seemed to tell stories that made my gut feel something. Being a first-generation Mexican- American also has a lot to do with the type of stories I want to tell in my work. As a whole, Latinx are still very underrepresented in the film industry, so I want to definitely make some work that relates to being Latinx, as well as work together with other Latinx voices to help each other tell one’s story...and hopefully build empathy for one another and ourselves.” 

Jessica is a Los Angeles native currently living in Madrid, Spain as an English teacher, writer, and newbie video-creator. When she's not doing that, she's exploring her new city's numerous art museums and exhibitions, journaling, or missing her cat--who is safe and sound in Los Angeles. You can find her on social media at @jayaramoss

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[muthaz-rapapa]

StarPre Ep 29: Planet Saaman, the Frontier (??)

Alternatively,  “YEARSH, MOAR LALA!!”

Sooooo many things to discuss about this episode (yay!) as I expected as much with going back to Lala’s homeland.

Therefore, I should go through everything efficiently (ahahaha~). 

*cracks knuckles* Let’s begin!

1) Saaman, a world ruled by AI + Lala, the anomaly

I believe by now, most of us have consumed enough media to understand that a utopia run completely by a computer is NOT the ideal world it paints itself to be.

While there are certain perks in efficiency, the lack of freedom, authenticity and most importantly, the limit on a person’s individuality and true potential (among many other things) are so alarmingly concerning that such a reality is not worth it.

However, Saaman is just that. Its citizens not only thrive on their reliance of the AI, they are also super (!!) content with a machine deciding every single aspect of how they live.

Which suggests that Saaman’s current social infrastructure and foundation must have lasted quite long already (probably centuries) for the entire population to rarely, if ever, question the decisions that AI “Mother” made for them.

Save for one. Our lovely Lala-chan.

I mean, can you blame her for not going along with the norm like her family and fellow Saamanians do? 

AI Mother’s evaluation of her determined that she was most suited to investigate garbage.

After everything we’ve seen her done, how much she’s experienced and grown on this journey, of course, she can never be satisfied with that!

Lala deserves SO👏MUCH👏 FRIGGIN’👏MORE👏 (give her the galaxy!) than to sit hours upon hours sorting through junk!

Unfortunately, given the longstanding situation and culture of her planet (again, a reminder that the people of Saaman have no problem with this lifestyle), it would be incredibly difficult for anyone to actually voice their opinions of disagreement with Mother’s decisions.

Especially Lala, whose parents are big shots in Saaman and older brother is the poster child/epitome of Saamanian values.

When the majority of your family is so ensconced in societal conventions, it’s not surprising that they would push the “lesser” relative to be more like “everybody else”.

Please don’t make the mistake that this means they don’t love and care about Lala because it doesn’t. It’s so obvious that they worry for her and only want the best for her.

BUT! It’s also obvious that they don’t really know Lala nor can they be considered close to her (she calls her parents by their given names instead of simply “Mom” or “Dad”, for stars’ sake!). 

Lala’s family doesn’t understand her or her unhappiness with her assigned role on Saaman. They’re so content with their own jobs that they fail to see anyone else can feel differently about theirs. So the only solution they can think of to “help” Lala is to push her further into it, believing that eventually she’ll become content.

It’s something that happens to a lot of people and perhaps the reason why Lala left Saaman in the first place. She couldn’t exactly rebel so she ran away from the pressure on her spaceship. Maybe she didn’t intend to be away for an extended period of time but still, she left hoping to search for something that Saaman could not, would not, give her.

Then she fatefully bumped into Prunce and Fuwa running away from the Notrayders, met Hikaru, became Precure and the rest was history (or rather, destiny~).

At least, that’s how I see it.

2) Madoka relates

Y’know, at first, I thought Madoka empathizing with Lala’s discomfort was based on their similar upbringings.

Despite how close Lala and Hikaru are with each other, it’s Lala and Madoka who have the most in common out of all the other members of their team and I’ve been waiting for the writers to touch on that for some time now.

From birth or early childhood at the very least, everything was already decided for them. What they will be when they grow up, what their routines will be every single day, what expectations they’re supposed to fulfill, etc. 

It’s a suffocating position that doesn’t leave a lot of room for argument and what shaped these two girls into having very detrimental perfectionist outlooks before that changed after meeting Hikaru and becoming Precure.

And now that Lala finds herself under stucky circumstances with her family, unable to enjoy the same openness with them as she does with her friends, I thought Madoka was going to try to encourage Lala not to let that get to her. She’s going through the same thing with her own father, after all, so if anyone can tell Lala’s going through a hard time, it’d be Madoka.

But turns out, that’s not quite the case here as the issue lies with them keeping their Precure identities and duties secret from their families instead.

Which is fine because at least Lala still has someone who can understand her on that.

Anyways, it’s a problem because being the upstanding, honest and serious types they are (majimeko) and both coming from families with high reputations, it’s really difficult for Lala and Madoka to not tell the people who are important to them about another part of their lives that is very important to them.

For Madoka, she feels that she’s betraying her father by hiding the fact that her friends, the very first and truest friends she’s ever made, are either aliens or helping the aliens avoid being caught.

For Lala, she’s torn between her duties as a Saamanian and wanting the acknowledgement of her family and community against the desire the protect her friends from the consequences of acting on the former.

And they are right when they suspect things would probably be worst off if they were to reveal that they are Precure.

Sure, they can probably expect to receive some more substantial support from the officials of their home planet (more from the Starscape Alliance than Earth’s government, sorry Madoka)...but at what cost?

The Star team can operate and travel smoothly throughout space precisely because nobody else is aware of who they really are. If they reveal their identities, there’s no doubt they will be targeted to be controlled.

Because sadly and not to get too political or anything, that’s just what governments do. They have to control the situation, they have to think about the interests of their own countries and more often than not, they extremely suck at it and turn everything into a huge mess (and this is just massively simplifying the general for length).

If they let other people get involved, the team’s balance and even their friendship will likely absolutely be affected and strained because no way will the universe at large care about a bunch of girls getting along as much as they do about using them for its own needs.

Which I’ll get more into on Point #3 below.

But for certain, that’s one of the reasons why Lala and Madoka are unable to tell their families about being Precure.

Yes, it makes them very uncomfortable to keep this huge secret...a secret.

But at the same time, it feels even more wrong to expose it because once that happens, nothing will be the same. Nothing can stay the same.

Even if they avoid all the worse case scenarios, the ones who will definitely suffer the most will still be the girls.

Perhaps that sounds selfish because they’re putting their friends above everything else but it’s not like the Star team isn’t also doing their best to keep the villains at bay while trying to save the universe at the same time. And they’re already doing an exceptional job without anyone breathing down their necks about it.

*cough* Sorry, getting off track a bit.

Anyways, the point is, they’re following their instincts this time which is a BIG deal for people like Lala and Madoka who have tendency to lean more towards logic.

After meeting Hikaru, after letting Hikaru teach them about valuable things they didn’t know before, both Lala and Madoka learned that there is much more to the world than the structures built around them.

Sometimes, the right answer doesn’t lie in the data or the rules, cold and fair in judgement.

Sometimes, simply trusting what you feel is just more correct.

Nobody ever said doing the right thing will be easy (in fact, many times, it never is) but the heart can never lie to you after all. And it’s even more dangerous to ignore it and live through the regrets afterwards.

So which would you choose?

Going with what you feel and doing everything you can to get the best outcome? Or choosing the opposite, knowing that doing so, the best outcome becomes more impossible to achieve and you can only hope for the best of the worse?

Eh..my phrasing isn’t very good but you get what I mean, right?

Anyways, it’s just very meaningful for Madoka to be the one to say these words to Lala.

I wouldn’t say she and Lala have completed their personal journeys yet (we still have like 20 more episodes to go after all) but I do believe that this particular moment marks a very significant point in their arcs.

Having been exposed to more of the world out there beyond their own, they would never go back to being the same Lala and Madoka from the beginning.

They are still unsure about whether their choices will lead them to what they’re looking for but they both know there’s no point in looking back. They can only move forward, trusting in what they feel as right.

Which it will be and not just because this is Precure but because it will leave a very bad taste in my mouth if I wrote all that and the right doesn’t end up prevailing. :P

3) The next step...

I’ll give you a straight up “NOPE!” to that, Pops!

Apologies for letting some of my RL views seep into this post (though can you blame me when it’s been disaster after disaster out there?) but I’m positive that “joining” the Starscape Alliance (their terms, not Precure’s), no matter how well-intentioned they are, will hurt the Star team more than benefit them.

Again, cuz it will allow busybodies to unnecessarily butt into their affairs and make things harder for the girls than they already are.

Moreover...

This is just Lala’s boss being an incompetent ass-for-brains idiot but if the Starscape Alliance is anything like him or even thinks remotely like him, then the Star team coming under their control spells doom for all.

Seriously, this is another level of messed up stupid. They just got terrorized by a flamboyant tengu woman and the person he accuses of trying to steal the Princess pen is Lala?! Even though the wrecked video footage is NOT enough sufficient evidence to point her as an accomplice to Tenjou? Even though Lala’s safely holding onto the pen in the aftermath, is noticeably NOT running away with it and showing concern for her boss?

WHAT THE SERIOUS FUCKING FUCK?!?!

D:<

That said, I hope that in midst of all the chaos of next week’s episode, Lala’s family will at least refuse to believe Lala is a thief and try to find a way to talk to her to know what’s really going on.

Because if they can’t even do that and join the chase to jail their own daughter, then I have another concern to worry about and will immediately fly to Saaman, lay waste to it, take Lala home with me and file to adopt her as my own child (don’t laugh).

But seeing how Lala fought so hard, despite her awkward relationship with her family, to make sure Lolo’s efforts weren’t for nothing, I’m sure it’ll be alright.

Having both her parents and Lolo come to understand Lala would be ideal...but if not, then either one or the other. I’m banking on Lolo atm since he’s her twin but he can be the type who chooses the system over his own kin, too, so... 

The screentime we were given just wasn’t enough for me to grasp where each of Lala’s family members stand on their respective relations with her so I can only hope for the best. :/

Ooo, and also, Cancer Star Princess gets revived next week! Yay~! :D 

[bigfan-fanfic]

What I’ve Learned from Disney Princesses

Sorry - super long post that isn’t a fic and doesn’t have anything to do with much. Just a rant - something I thought about and had to write down.

I firmly believe that in life, we are always learning. And from a young age, I have been learning from Disney - I think that my rather large vocabulary comes from learning Disney songs by heart at a young age - there are some pretty complicated words in there, people!

I was born and currently identify as male, but the Disney Princess movies have taught me valuable lessons over my life. The Princesses espouse admirable qualities, teach life lessons, and introduce us to the harsh truths of life. I’d like to share with you what I found the message these characters send to be, and maybe see if anyone feels the same?

So, under the break, I’m going to discuss all 12 of the official Disney Princesses, as well as Elsa and Anna, because I feel they have a lot to offer as far as life lessons go.

1. Snow White (Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs)

Snow White does teach valuable lessons. She is just a young girl during the movie, but she shows remarkable fortitude in her ordeals. She does put herself in a servant role to the Dwarfs, but think about it -she’s been made a servant by her stepmother, so it’s likely the only thing of use she knows how to do. Not to mention she’s paying for her lodging and food by working. Snow is a princess, but she shows remarkable humility by being willing to work and earn her keep. 

Snow’s story also teaches us the downfalls of seeing the good everywhere. A little bit of cynicism is healthy, and keeps us alive. Snow’s willingness to see the good is what allows her to be so cheerful and loving towards the Dwarfs, but also makes her an easy target for a certain apple salesperson.

Be humble. Be fair. And don’t be so trusting.

2. Cinderella (Cinderella)

Cinderella might seem to be a passive, submissive example of a princess who “needs a man to rescue her.” But I think differently. Cinderella shows courage and strength in doing the only thing she can: surviving. Think about it: Cinderella has basically no other option but to be slave to her stepfamily. Her mother and father are dead. But does she complain? Does she give in to the idea that there might not be a single human left in the world who cares about her?

No.

Cinderella teaches us the quiet strength of endurance, of compassion and love even when we don’t receive any. Cinderella remains positive and hopeful in the face of adversity, and she is rewarded. 

Cinderella teaches us the harsh truth that sometimes, we have no other option but to muddle through and hope. Dreaming and wishing can be our refuge, and we must not let ourselves be broken by our circumstances. We must always show compassion and love where we are shown none, to those that need and deserve it. Cinderella cares for her animal friends, even though they can not conceivably do anything for her, and this “paying it forward” is rewarded.

And yes, Cinderella does have to depend on the kindness of others. But this in itself is a lesson. We, like Cinderella, do not always have agency over our lives. Sometimes we are kept from the ball. Sometimes the spell has to end at midnight. But Cinderella’s endurance and spirit is what sees her through.

Be strong. Be kind. Be like Cinderella.

3. Aurora (Sleeping Beauty)

True, there isn’t much to take from Aurora’s actions, due to her getting little screen time. But, Aurora teaches us the power of intent. She has been sheltered all her life and cut off from contact. And yet, she is unafraid to dream of finding more. And she does, though probably not how she expected to.

Aurora teaches us the harsh truth that we can be punished for something we had no control over. She was cursed to effectively die for an insult her parents gave! (Incidentally, a lesson I learned from Sleeping Beauty was to show respect at all times, to avoid grudges) 

Aurora may not teach us much directly. Her lessons involve having no control, and just having to deal with it.

So, yes, there will be times when your life won’t be fair. And, sorry, but you’ll just have to hope for the best. Hold on to your dreams for when life hits you hard.

4. Ariel (The Little Mermaid)

For a long time, Ariel was my least favorite Disney Princess. She’s the “girl who has everything” but can’t appreciate it.  She’s got material goods, family who cares, friends, a killer singing voice, but she takes it all for granted. Not to mention she skips out on prior commitments for selfish reasons. But Ariel teaches us a lesson about parenting that we would do well to remember:

Share with your child. Ariel’s curiosity about the surface world stems from her father’s insistence that she should never come in contact with it. Triton could’ve avoided a whole lot of trouble by maybe showing Ariel the human world a little at a time, or told her about why Ursula was so bad. 

Ariel also a lesson of her own: that it is okay to depend on others. Yes, she needs Sebastian to help her romance Eric. Yes, she needs Eric to help her defeat Ursula. But these do not make her weak. Ariel’s pure love and curiosity for whatever she happens to come across is her strength, and is what charms everyone around her. She is willing to selflessly defy her father in order to save a surface person from almost certain death. We all need to realize that we are not alone in this world, and it is okay to rely on those we can trust. When, like Ariel, we are voiceless, we should be able to count on our loved ones for support.

So, parents, share and be honest with your children. Kids, know that you aren’t alone, that it’s okay to rely on your parents and friends for stuff. You aren’t weak. We all need each other.

5. Belle (Beauty and the Beast)

Belle is possibly my favorite Disney Princess of all time. She’s got it all: brains, confidence, beauty. But the real virtue she shows us as people does not come from her book learning. It comes from emotional intelligence. Belle’s greatest quality is her understanding. 

Belle lives in a small town full of “little people,” and she is insecure about how different she is from them. The repetitive life they lead is not enough for her, and she wonders if anyone can understand her. There’s “no one [she] can really talk with.” And later, the villagers will state in “The Mob Song” that “we don’t like what we don’t understand; in fact it scares us, and this monster is mysterious at least.”

She is the only one who can see through the facade that Gaston puts on for all the villagers. She is able to see through the Beast’s posturing and get him to become the man inside. Belle sees Cogsworth’s pride and uses it to get him to show her the castle, and recognizes that the Beast won’t hurt her. Her understanding of people, and her ability to look past the outer shell is her greatest power, and ultimately allows her to break the curse by recognizing her love for the Beast, despite how mean and vicious he may appear. Belle shows us the value of attempting to understand those that may look and behave differently from us, and how reaching across that divide may not be as difficult as we think.

Belle’s story also teaches us the harsh truth that talent and wisdom often go unappreciated compared to beauty and looks. No one believes “Crazy Old Maurice” when his word is against Gaston, the village golden boy. None of the villagers see anything other than a scary, mysterious castle with a vicious beast in it. Even the Beast himself was cursed due to his inability to look past the Enchantress’ disguise. 

So seek to understand those you meet, both their flaws and qualities. And don’t judge a book by its cover. 

6. Jasmine (Aladdin)

Jasmine is pretty cool. She has a pet tiger, so... 

Anyway, Jasmine shows us how to be free. She doesn’t want to be wed to someone she doesn’t love, and so she tries to escape her life. She has Rajah attack suitors who try to get too close. She doesn’t take anything from anyone. Jasmine is generous and righteous, and although she might get into trouble due to her sheltered upbringing, Jasmine teaches us that we can’t let people deny us our freedom.

But Jasmine’s story teaches us the harsh truth that there are people out there who will stop at nothing to get what they want. Jafar resorts to manipulation, mind control, and then outright force to get what he wants. Even Aladdin uses the Genie’s incredible power to deceive his way to Jasmine. But even though Prince Ali seems perfect, Jasmine doesn’t really start to like him until he semi-reveals himself as Aladdin by asking her “do you trust me?” And Jasmine defies Jafar, even when he has the Genie’s power, even when he has her father under his power.

So, even when the greedy and selfish seek to use you, remember to hold on and exercise your freedom. It’s your life.

7. Pocahontas (Pocahontas)

Pocahontas is possibly the most controversial on the list, but I think that she is important in the lessons she can teach.

Pocahontas is independent and true to herself, but she also wrestles with tough inner conflict from duty. She wants to hope that something “waits just around the riverbend” but is in conflict with her tribe’s mantra of keeping steady and not rocking the boat. But her greatest virtue is her commitment to peace.

 Pocahontas not only promotes peace between cultures, but peace between man and nature. “We are all connected to each other/in a circle, in a hoop that never ends.” Pocahontas believes in this value of peace so much that she is willing to sacrifice herself for love rather than live in a world where war has broken out among the two sides. Her main adviser is not a human, but a spirit of nature itself. 

And the movie reveals harsh truths about how people treat those they do not understand. The song “Savages” is especially poignant, as Pocahontas deals with her inability to save John Smith while both sides abandon any hope for peace/cooperation and prepare for war. A strain from “Listen With Your Heart” plays before the second part of the song, showing that Pocahontas will either prove that peace is possible or die trying. As the end of the song arises, Pocahontas throws herself onto John Smith, forcing her father to either choose to back down or to kill his own daughter. 

Yes, Pocahontas sanitizes a lot of the struggle of the period. But the idea that one selfless act has the power to affect change is a powerful one. Pocahontas shows us that peace is an ideal worth dying for, even when it seems that no one will listen.

8. Mulan (Mulan)

Mulan starts her film chafing against her society’s constraints, unable to be herself and attempting to force herself into the mold of “perfect porcelain doll” that she is expected to be. Mulan’s love for her father is what motivates her to join the army in his place. Ironically, as her story deals with deception and deceit for the greater good, Mulan teaches us to be true to ourselves.

While she masquerades as Ping, Mulan is largely ineffectual, starting a camp-wide brawl on her first day and earning enmity from her comrades by adopting an overly-macho facade. It’s only when Mulan uses skills from her true personality that she thrives. Her ingenuity is foreshadowed in the way she does her chores by setting up Little Brother to do them, her sense of fairness is shown when she gives a little girl back her doll, and her incredible persistence is shown in the way she steadfastly goes through with the matchmaking ceremony, even when she has to resort to cheating to get through it. 

Mulan’s creativity allows her to climb the pole to retrieve the arrow, and her victory against Shan Yu in the mountains is brought about by her creative use of the cannon to cause an avalanche.

Mulan teaches us the harsh truth that there are things in life that we will just not be good at. Mulan does not excel at the memorization and graceful movements that other girls in her society are expected to use. But she does excel at tactics, thinking creatively, and adapting to situations as they come. And though her society prevents her from using her true talents, she finds a way to break out of that box and use her abilities to their fullest extent.

We all have our strengths and talents, and we must find a way to use them rather than be constrained by the norms of society. “The flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all.”

9. Tiana (The Princess and the Frog)

Tiana is different from the other Princesses because her best quality is also her flaw - she is focused and hard-working. Tiana is so diligent towards achieving her goals that she doesn’t allow herself to enjoy life. Tiana mostly teaches others how to focus on what they really want, but she’s got her own lesson to learn. 

“I remember Daddy told me/”Fairy tales can come true,/ But you’ve got to make them happen/it all depends on you.” Tiana has learned this lesson that blood, sweat, and tears are dependable - fairy godmothers are rare. It is hard to determine what Tiana needs to learn because she has so many good qualities - responsibility, self-sufficiency, diligence

“Blue skies and sunshine” are what Mama Odie recommends to her, and Tiana realizes that she doesn’t have to deny herself fun to achieve her goals. She starts out with several jobs to save up for her restaurant, and it all turns out to be for nothing. Tiana already knows that she must rely on herself to make her dreams come true, but she needs to learn to stop and smell the roses. She learns that she doesn’t have to solely dedicate herself to one thing. She can take time for fun, time to dance with her mother before getting back to work.

But Tiana’s story also teaches us the harsh truth that people are often far too open to temptation. “This whole town can slow you down/People taking the easy way...” Dr. Facilier and the Friends from the Other Side take advantage of what people want but don’t want to work for in order to manipulate them. “You got what you wanted/But you lost what you had.” Tiana, however, recognizes the value of hard work and does not give in to the Doctor’s manipulations. Even when Facilier gives her her restaurant, where she is loved and respected and dressed up, she quickly realizes it is nothing but an empty offer. Tiana does what none of the other characters tempted by Facilier have been able to do - say no.

So, work hard, but don’t forget to play sometimes. And know that your dreams won’t come true overnight - hard work is often needed.

10. Rapunzel (Tangled)

Rapunzel’s story teaches us perseverance. Every year, the king and queen send up lanterns for the lost princess - never losing hope that their daughter is out there. And it is these very lanterns that draw their daughter back to them. Rapunzel perseveres in her tower, waiting for her life to begin. And when opportunity finally strikes, Rapunzel seizes it. She doesn’t just grab the bull by the horns, she swipes it upside the head with a frying pan!

Rapunzel teaches us the harsh truth that trust is never to be taken for granted. Even the people who are supposed to love us and care for us might not always have our best interests at heart. Rapunzel spends much of the movie fearful that she is betraying her mother, only to find out she was lied to her whole life. The folks at the Snuggly Duckling encourage her to chase her dreams, but also inadvertently set Gothel on her trail. And Gothel is easily able to manipulate Rapunzel into distrusting Eugene.

So never give up, and be sure that those you place your trust in deserve it.

11. Merida (Brave)

Merida, like Mulan, struggles with societal constraints. Like Ariel, she can be flighty and irresponsible. But ultimately, Merida teaches us about the give and take of relationships, even among parents and children. Merida feels her mother lacks understanding. And her mother feels the same. Their relationship, once so close, is broken by the divide between them, represented by Merida’s damaging of the tapestry her mother made.

As Merida and Eleanor go through their journey, Merida learns about her mother’s strength and power, which comes from calm words and the bearing of a leader

12. Moana (Moana)

Moana is a really great addition to the lineup. She’s strong, funny, and smart, and she is wise. Moana, unlike Mulan, does not struggle with fitting in to society. She is able to competently assume the role of chief under the guidance of her father. And it is important to note that when Moan first tries to go to the sea, she fails. It is only when she does so in order to save her people that she succeeds. 

So, Moana’s virtue is also her tough lesson. There are things in this world more important than ourselves. Maui’s need to be loved is also the source of his great insecurity, and led him to steal the heart of Te Fiti. Te Ka’s anger nearly prevents Moana and Maui from restoring her heart. Moana’s grandmother and mother teach her the power of selflessness. Moana’s grandmother is the one to teach her about their people’s past as voyagers, and Moana’s mother - though she may fear for her daughter’s life - allows her to go and helps her pack for her journey. And Moana teaches Maui about doing things for others, not for gratitude, but because it is right. 

And Moana leads her people into voyaging once more. Not because she desired to go to the sea, but because it is the way of her people that was forgotten. Because it was the only solution to save her people when they began to overfish and helps spread them across the world. Moana’s motivation grows from a selfish one to a selfless one. And in a weird way, this comes from self-acceptance. “I Am Moana” is what she learns, that she can do things, and her talents are to be used to help her people, not just herself. 

Be yourself. Use your talents and follow your dreams. But never forget to use your abilities and gains for the good of others.

13. Elsa (Frozen)

Elsa is forced for much of her life to live in isolation, even from her beloved sister, which practically destroys their relationship. “Let It Go” may be a song for accepting herself, but it also occurs in isolation. Elsa feels the only way she can be herself is through this isolation. “Yes, I’m alone, but I’m alone and free.” She’s not really accepting who she is, but rather accepting the idea that she’s a dangerous monster, but when no one’s there for her to hurt, she can be happy.

Elsa learns through her sister’s love that she isn’t a monster. And she learns that love is how she can control her powers. Her parents worry that her powers will make her a target, but the fear of herself instilled in her makes them more uncontrollable. After all, if Elsa’s had these powers all her life (and shows remarkable control over them at a young age), the loss of control is directly linked to self-suppression. It is only when Anna sacrifices herself that Elsa regains true control -  because Anna repeatedly shows that she loves her sister, no matter what. And this unconditional love makes Elsa truly believe that she isn’t a monster.

So, Elsa teaches us that to truly accept ourselves, we need to accept others. You don’t have to be as cheery and personable as Anna, but isolation isn’t healthy.

14. Anna (Frozen)

Anna, meanwhile, learns a similar lesson. Also forced into isolation, Anna desires to have experiences, to live life. “For the First Time in Forever” really indicates Anna’s longing for connection and experience. Part of why she’s so willing to love Hans and believe he loves her is because of this isolation. In her point of view, Elsa rebuffs her one day with no warning, and practically never even sees her again for years. “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?” shows Anna’s regret and sadness as the years pass, and is heartbreaking as she slowly stops trying to communicate with her sister.

Anna teaches us about trying to communicate, about showing unconditional love. “Please don’t shut me out again,” she begs Elsa. And even though her sister has (accidentally) hurt her, Anna consistently tries to bridge the gap. 

Anna’s arc shows us the tough truth that relationships, even close ones, can decay. The close sisterly bond has all but faded between them. But Anna also shows us that no matter the difficulty. At the final scene, when the tune of “Do You Wanna Build a Snowman” plays, it signifies that Elsa and Anna have finally repaired their relationship, that they finally can be family again.

So, we learn from Anna to give our love unconditionally. Because forgiveness, trust, love, and most importantly the desire to make a connection all help us repair our broken relationships.

[rawwithlove-storyteller-blog]

A Love Story

He took me to an ice cream parlour in London on one of our first dates. As we sat enjoying our desserts, he told an astonishing tale of his past and I absorbed it, having never removed my eyes from his gaze. The ice cream melted as he offloaded, each detail more shocking than the next. To protect his privacy, I won't get into details, but many of my friends would have gotten up and walked away. I didn't; I was intrigued. I wanted to know more. 

In the months to come we became good friends. I wanted to be around him all the time. I never knew what he would do or where he would take me. It could be the cinema or an impulsive trip to Paris, either option was offered with the ease of asking “so how do you take your coffee?” He was the quiet man who would sit in the corner of a room whilst simultaneously being in control the show. Our time together was extravagant and reeked of easy money - made so easy, it’s money to be spent.

On a trip to Mauritius, as it came to an end, we sat in a romantic candlelit restaurant looking at our menus. He spoke to me very clearly and calmly. After the trip had ended we were to return to London and he never wanted to see me again. It had been months of him demonstrating his desire to be with me. The trips, gifts, and time spent together were his way of courting me. I had always politely rejected his advances, giving just enough to show interest but concealing my emotions. He wasn't my usual type. His past was dark. His current situation… well, the less I knew the better.

He stood by his word and refused to speak to me. I wrote, called, and all but pleaded, but he ignored my advances. It was only once I lost him that I realized just how extraordinary he was. Having achieved all that he had, despite his past, and being so humble was inspiring to me. I desired him and was willing to do whatever it took to get him back. He, in return, had put his guard up and there was no penetrating it. I wanted to be with him so, when we finally met, before he could utter a single word I kissed him. Our first kiss. He had made his point loud and clear and I would no longer play any games; I was his. 

"He had made his point loud and clear and I would no longer play any games; I was his. "

Our relationship finally began.

Soon after we became inseparable. The relationship was adventurous and excessive. He was incredibly generous. We were the underprivileged ones with difficult upbringings - we weren't meant to live the way we did. We felt invincible. I loved him without condition.

I had found the person I could finally open up to about my past. The many events I had chosen to forget, my experiences of love, love lost, pain, and secrets. To this day I don't think there is anyone in the world that knows me as well as he does. To be that open and accepted was something I had never felt before; I was at peace.

We sat in bed one day and I told him a story.

It was the story of the human heart. I believe that when we’re born, our heart is filled with the purity of having never experienced any pain. It’s vibrant and full of joy. As we get older, though, and feel the disappointments of life, our hearts become a bit more wounded. A dent here, a scratch there.

In my youth I experienced enough pain to last a lifetime. My heart took a beating. Like a man returning from battle, I was wounded but functioning. I didn’t have much left that resembled a heart, so it became even more precious.

I held my hand up and showed him my open palm, where an imaginary, fragile heart lay. Then  I closed it tightly. Too much had happened to me and I was riddled with fear, as I loved him deeply. If I placed what little I had left in his hands and he were to hurt me, well… I’d have nothing left to give. It could destroy me and it was a risk I wasn’t sure I should take.

He looked me in the eyes, having realized the importance of what I was saying, and opened my closed palm. he took the imaginary heart and held it to his chest. “Leave it with me,” he said, “and I’ll protect it from now on as you heal.” For the first time in my adult life I felt truly loved by a man. My heart strengthened. 

We were married in a town hall. It was a small ceremony with only two close friends who also served as witnesses. I wore a dress which I bought off the rack for £15. He looked amazing in his designer suit. As we read our vows, I cried.

Unbeknownst to us, the marriage would be our downfall. The timer had started and it was the beginning of the end.

He came from a religious and strict Muslim family. Their culture was so different to mine and they had expectations of us which I could not meet. I had always been a free butterfly, off on a new adventure and filled with a joie de vivre, free to live my life without structure. Only now, I had the man I loved by my side. He embraced and accepted me even as some members in his family rejected the adventurous western woman. I wasn't going to set a good example for his sisters and community. I wasn't going to convert to Islam.

It didn’t matter much as neither of us were religious. As the years went by, he always stood by my side despite his family’s disapproval. It wasn't that they disliked me as a person, it was that they knew I would never be like them. He had a son from a previous marriage and his son became my son. I loved him as if he were my own.

Life wasn't always perfect, but it was ours. We were each other’s escape and strength. It really felt like it was just us in the world, living in a luxurious bubble.

Then the bubble burst.

A criminal case, which he assumed had been closed years ago, had been reopened. He was being charged and the penalty was up to 12 years in prison.

We were devastated. We imagined our only worry in life was the decision or whether or not to convert religions; now it was whether he would stay or leave.

The day he was taken, we spent the morning in bed lying in each other’s arms. It had been organized that he was to be extradited to another country later that afternoon. He never asked me if I would stay with him and I never declared that I would wait. I would wait, though. His prison sentence became my prison sentence.

It was decided he would serve 18 months, I found out during one of our daily calls. I told him it would be alright and to be strong. I’d take care of the rest. He was always my rock and now it was my turn to be his. I was suffering, but I never let him know. He held my heart and I wanted to be his reason to keep going. 

It was also around this time that I began to live two separate lives. I chose not to tell anyone of his prison sentence, instead opting for a fake breakup before miraculously getting back together when he returned. He had left on a long business trip and no-one would see him for 18 months. I was embarrassed by the thought of potential gossip and being judged. I was ashamed that if I told anyone the truth then I’d have to come to terms with the crippling pain of our separation. Family and friends would certainly ask me to leave him; I was young and could start over, they would say. We weren't the perfect couple, after all. There were two close childhood friends which I confided in, as well as my mother. Many of my closest family and friends will be shocked, as they will only find out when they read this.

"Many of my closest family and friends will be shocked, as they will only find out when they read this."

Two lives, one person. Sometimes I was the supportive wife, picking up my stepson from my husband’s ex and having him for our designated weekends. Liaising with the solicitors. Accepting daily calls from prison. Other times I was the grieving ex, not quite ready to date again. When friends pushed for me to move on, I simply said I needed more time. Ensuring I never painted him in a bad light, I was awaiting his return.

We wrote each other 100 love letters during his sentence. It was exciting to get home and receive a beautiful bouquet of roses. Even in prison, he didn't forget an anniversary or Valentine’s day. He was always romantic. He continued to support me and I continued to support him.

Finally, the sentence was over and he returned home. He was a different man from the one I knew, worn down and defeated. He never complained and I never saw him cry. There was no self-pity. He just wanted to get on with his life, so we didn’t speak of it again. We had reconciled and I was happy to have my heart back.

The topic of converting to Islam became more prevalent with his return. He would do anything in the world for me, and I anything for him - except convert my religion. It became a stubborn battle of wills. 

We tried our best to not bring it up. Neither of us liked confrontation or arguments. We were a perfect fit otherwise, but there was always the elephant in the room. He had become religious and wanted me to join him on the same path.

I want to be clear that I respect Islam and all religions. I have a Quran. I educated myself on this beautiful religion, which is often misunderstood. It’s based on sound ideals that I admire and aim to follow, but it simply wasn't my path. I tried to be more open to converting, but it didn't come naturally. I asked God for guidance and decided I would continue without a religion, remaining spiritual. 

We moved and travelled to other countries. Perhaps a change of continent would change our ideals and help us in our vision of the future; it didn't.

It all came to a head one bright and sunny afternoon as we drove in Cape Town. He was leaving me, having become unable to come to terms with my desire not to convert. I jumped out of the car and walked along the ocean’s boardwalk. I walked until darkness literally overcame me. It was over and I was to return to London without him.

They say time heals everything, but I disagree. As the months went by, I felt progressively worse. I was traumatized. I had given him all I had left of my heart. I had nothing left to give - not even enough left to love myself. This double life had taken its toll on me. I lost his son as well. it was too much to bear.

I left to visit an aunt in Colombia. She lived on a farm out in the countryside with stunning views of the West Andes mountains. It was stripped down to the vital necessities but incredibly charming - no electricity and no need to check my phone. I had escaped as far as I could go. 

We sat on rocking chairs facing the mountains and she asked me what was wrong. I told her everything. The ice cream parlour, the trips, the romance, the son, the prison sentence. The double life. The religion and having lost my heart.

  I needed to tell someone to extract this pain which was torturing  my mind. The words flowed out like a poisonous venom. I cried often and would pause only to find I had even more to eliminate. She sat in silence, rocking in her chair, listening but never making eye contact. At some point I released the last bit of poison and was exhausted. I observed her peacefully rocking away. How could she be so calm? My world had ended. I lost the human that knew me the most. I was shattered and had lost my joie de vivre. 

Finally, she broke her silence and asked if I had told her everything. Could it be that I’d missed a detail? No, I pondered, I had told her everything. I offloaded it all. There was nothing left to be said. “Good,” she said, “If there’s nothing left to be said, then it’s a thing of the past. Move on.”

And just like that, I felt a sense of relief flow through my body. I was resurrected. It was over and my life began again.

Much has happened after as I began to rebuild. I travelled solo for 8 months in search of simplicity and peace of mind. 

I did see him again. We spoke about what we had gone through. He apologized for if he ever made me feel like I wasn’t good enough. It was not his intention as he loved me entirely. He just knew we had a different future ahead of us. I told him of my travels and living in the jungles - of all the amazing people and experiences I had discovered as I fell in love with myself again. I was healing and had my heart back; a new one I created from within. He was proud of me. I was still the butterfly that never clipped my wings.

We are no longer in contact. Occasionally I have heard of him or seen him in the background of a picture. We don’t share mutual friends. I don’t know what country he lives in.

We used to say that our last thought on our deathbed would be of each other. He was the man that met me as a girl and saw me flourish into a woman. I will forever treasure our time together and, despite the pain, there’s nothing I would change about it.

There is so much I chose not to disclose to protect his identity and story. This story covers 6 years and countless cities around the world.

However, if he were to ever read this, I want him to know this is my last love letter to him. I want him to know I live a life full of love and he will always occupy a space in my growing heart, till our deathbed and beyond.

[salixj]

Every individual feels the tension between what we “want” to do, and what we “should” do. In Jewish thought, this constant state of flux is a cornerstone of practice and belief often referred to as “Obligation”.

When I first came to Israel 9 years ago, it was an idea that I only knew in the abstract way we all experience it; I had never grappled with it in any real, practical sense. Today, it is the cornerstone of my deepening Jewish observant (though not “religious”) identity.

The light of this latent value, buried deep in a Jewish soul I had no awareness of at the time, found its first flicker in the stairwell of a random Tel Aviv hotel as the first Shabbat I ever celebrated came in on a regular April evening in 2011.

I couldn’t tell you what changed as I walked up to the roof, the song of my Birthright group all around me, to experience Shabbat for the first time. But I do know that this past Shabbat, eyes closed yet tearing up as I sang the Shabbat liturgy in a Jerusalem synagogue, I returned to that stairwell in my mind’s eye. I do so nearly every Friday night that I make it to Synagogue to live my Jewish birthright of welcoming Shabbat, as my family has done for millennia.

That I am blessed enough to even have this experience is a kind of miracle in and of itself. The son of a Jewish mother and Catholic father, I grew up in a loving, tolerant home where secular rational humanism in the Judeo-Christian tradition, taught by example, was the only religion I ever knew. And for 25 years of my life, it had never occurred to me that you could you could need anything more in a value system.

My parents taught me it’s wrong to steal; they taught me it’s wrong to lie; they taught me to always strive to treat others as I would want to be treated. They did right by me in the morality department, and I’m forever grateful to them for it.

And yet, experiencing Shabbat for the first time pierced me so deeply that it found Jewish bedrock beneath a lifetime of secular and enlightenment training and conviction. When I felt the joy and the beauty of welcoming Shabbat for the first time, I knew there was something resonating in me.

But at the same time, I couldn’t have told you what it was — even less why it was, or what it meant. Nor was it a transcendental experience where the clouds opened up and everything changed in an instant. I didn’t have a religious awakening, much less a revelation. I still haven’t. Looking back on it today, the best way I can describe it is as an inchoate sense of fulfillment and meaning that I never expected to find.

I went back to America after two weeks in Israel. But I was never the same. The next Friday was the first one I ever celebrated Shabbat in my own home. Less than two years later, I would be doing the same thing from my new home in Jerusalem.

A look behind the curtain at the cult of self

I’ve given a lot of thought to what I felt in that stairwell seven years ago.

I’ve given a lot of thought to what value could be so powerful that it resonated through a lifetime of Jewish ignorance, yet so amorphous that I couldn’t understand what it was even as it was kindling the light of generations inside of me.

My answer is Obligation.

Everywhere you look in modern culture and society, the individual is center and supreme. And in a certain sense, the individual has never been more free. Every day, the abundance of the modern world calls us more and more to the banner of the cult of self.

Popular culture packages this idea in many forms. You should always accomplish evermore for yourself; you must consume more for yourself. This is the immutable law of the modern world — never take on any responsibility except for one laid upon you by your own impulses for self-gratification.

This lie, like a drug, is as intoxicating as it is destructive. Taken to its logical conclusion, it only produces a uniquely toxic blend of mania, nihilism, and misery. I know this because, in my time competing for Israel as a Skeleton athlete, I learned the uniquely empowering liberation of practicing purposeful, targeted, self-abnegation.

If I had to sum up everything I learned in a decade of preparing myself to compete in international athletics, it would be this: In every moment, the soul should absolutely have the freedom to choose, but it does not follow that the soul should choose absolute freedom in every moment.

That the above statement is provocative in 2019 goes without saying. Freedom is the supreme virtue of our time. But where freedom has no self-imposed constraints, where our desires become our only moral compass, freedom actually cannibalizes itself and loses all meaning. The concept requires negative space — times when we voluntarily choose to NOT follow our every impulsive desire — to bring meaning and joy into our lives. Where no constraint exists, freedom cannot contrast against it, and so itself cannot exist.

Paradoxically, the freedom of the cult of self actually turns us into slaves of our impulses.

Letting go of the big lie

Experiencing this truth of the human soul viscerally via my secular athletic life, combined with my deepening relationship and understanding of Shabbat, caused a revolution in my thinking.

Despite my secular upbringing, I couldn’t keep believing the big lie of modern consumer culture. Eventually, I stopped being afraid to admit that the lived truth of my emotional, mental, and physical life would by definition have to be true for my spiritual life.

I stopped believing external Obligation was, by definition, oppressive and evil. I stopped believing that the only virtue there is to aspire to in this life is for everything to be about me, in all places, and at all times.

Against a meaningful and just objective standard, there is value in doing something that is hard; there is value in doing something that challenges the will; there is value in doing something that we do not necessarily “want to do” in the moment. And the reason is because, just like muscle and bone, the mind and the soul must flex against resistance or languish into atrophy.

It is this concept of choosing to act not on impulse but rather against a virtuous objective standard, and its central role in Jewish spirituality and faith, that served as the stepping off point for me to experience Jewishness not just as an identity but as an exercise of my soul.

Shabbat, the weekly Obligation of the Jewish people to remember God’s act of Creation, kindled the lived spiritual practice of this idea inside of me.

Every Friday night, I am mindful that it is Shabbat. I do not work on my day job or various side projects; I stay off of social media and news sites; I say the blessings over candles and wine whenever possible; I go to Synagogue for Kabalat Shabbat whenever I am home in Israel, and sometimes when I am visiting my family in New Jersey.

To this day, Shabbat remains the most visceral expression of Obligation that I experience. It is my weekly rebellion against the selfishness and nihilism of the modern world.

Yearning to lead a life well lived

If you are expecting to now read that I now keep all the Halacha, pray three times a day, and never watch a movie on Shabbat, I am afraid I will have to disappoint you. To be fair, I had already admitted I am not what anyone would mistake for an observant Jew, in the common understanding of that term.

My working definition of free will remains 100% in the secular Enlightenment tradition. One of the parts of Jewish observance, tradition, and faith I struggle with the most is the idea of external punishment for transgressing Obligation that does not cause harm to others. I believe that failing to follow an Obligation is harmful to myself — a punishment by definition — and that there is no place (or need) for human hands to dole it out.

My journey into Jewish Obligation has already been a long and fulfilling one, and it is without a doubt far from complete. In reality, my lived Jewish Obligation is, as of today, cherry-picked and I readily admit it. I am not perfect. Some will call me a hypocrite, and that’s fine. But this is an honest assessment of where I am at this point in my life.

Like all of us and in spite of my best intentions, I do not always live up to the standard I would like to see myself living up to. But I am trying. Most importantly, I have reversed my blind and fundamental attachment to the decadent thinking that infects our modern life and sadly causes so much needless pain. I am now open and aware of the benefits of accepting Obligation into my spiritual life, and see the impossible wisdom of that great Jewish theological belief that a life lived entirely free of the uplifting power of Obligation cannot be a life well lived.

And even in just that change — and the yearning to be better that it brings — the awakening of my Jewish soul has already enriched my life more than I could have ever imagined.

ABOUT THE AUTHORBradley Chalupski is the winner of Israel's first medal in an international IBSF Skeleton competition, represented Israel in two IBSF Skeleton World Championships, and is the first Israeli athlete to compete in an IBSF Skeleton World Cup circuit event. In college, he interned for then Senator Joe Biden and later went on to intern in the policy department of NJ Governor Jon Corzine while earning his J.D. from the Seton Hall School of Law. He made Aliyah in 2012 and has lived in Jerusalem ever since. [Brad is my (Salixj’s)  son-in-law]

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Juan Ramon and Ramon Family headcanons

Juan Vicente Ramon was the sole heir of the Ramon family line that had been ruling Córdoba for centuries. Though the line had been fraught with family infighting and rivalries, by the time Juan was born it had petered out to a general rule of firstborn gets to be king or queen, no exceptions. But in order to be careful, Juan’s parents, Valero and Soledad only tried for one child and never wished to give him siblings.

Being the sole heir, Juan was trained from a very young age to focus on his duties as prince and eventually king. It was a bit of a Victorian upbringing where Juan was taught to repress any “excessive” emotion like panic or anger in order to appear as a perfectly placid royal and being forced to memorize countless protacles, etiquette rules, cities, noble titles, all the works. There was a bonus that unlike Avalor, Juan also had an extensive knowledge of Córdoba’s culture including magical creatures that reside in the kingdom and the benefits/dangers they present.

Despite this rigorous schooling and high expectations, Juan still grew up to possess a natural optimism and charm towards life, always looking on the bright side of things and actually taking satisfaction in doing a job well done. However, he also suffered from emotional isolation, bearing the burden of the crown all by himself. He felt like he couldn’t confide to anyone in his fears, and stresses because then it would appear like he didn’t know what he was doing. So after classes with his tutors, Juan would often lock himself in his room, dwelling on his flaws and his insecurities for hours at a time.

Come his teen years, Juan grew a bit rebellious. Going behind his parent’s back to hang out with the sons of the horse groomers and other palace staff. They would do such “unseemly” activities like chariot races and competitions on who could pick up the most girls. Juan almost always won these competitions because no one could beat his stellar pick-up line, “Hello, I’m Prince Juan, your future King. Would you like to be my queen?”  

So in case you were wondering. Yes. Alonso did get some of flirtatious personality from his father.

Unfortunately those friendships came to an end when his parents found out. His parents firmly believed in the class divide and that Juan associating with these “lower beings” would only corrupt his fine breeding. They lectured him on how he almost put the whole kingdom in danger because of his selfish need to have friends. That disappointment and forced shame was like a dagger into Juan’s psyche. He felt like a failure, this only served to further plunge Juan into emotional isolation. He resigned himself to the idea that to best serve his kingdom that he must become unfeeling and distant, then he could be neutral and objective about every duty he had to take on.

Luckily, life threw him a curveball before he could follow through on that vow. Juan couldn’t quite break that love for racing chariots and still eagerly participated in daily races, reasoning to his parents that he was boosting morale in the subjects and showing off his athletic skill. So the race he went to following his vow, he had won for the fourth time in a row. A young duchess came up to his carriage and asked what type it was and where she could buy one like it.

That duchess was Alejandra García, nicknamed Alé, a woman who was the complete opposite of everything he had been raised to be. She revealed in having fun, she participated in plays as part of a troupe that traveled around Cordoba and some of the surrounding kingdoms. She was the highlight of comedy clubs. She seemed to have no care in the world and always lived in the moment. She was wild and Juan wanted to follow wherever she led.

Being an accomplished actress, Alejandra acted like a timid, well-bred duchess in front of his parents but once they were away from the king and queen’s critical eyes, Alejandra would drag Juan all over the kingdom. Juan loved being in her presence, she made him laugh and feel bold. But more importantly, she was always there to listen when Juan was stressed. The first time he admitted that he sat out tango dances at balls because he wasn’t good at them, he expected her to scold him for his failure. Instead she simply laughed and offered to teach him. Alejandra was the one person that Juan didn’t feel judged by and that was a rare thing in his world. Bit by bit, Juan let himself feel a full range of emotion in front of her insteading of suppressing it. He cried, he laughed, yelled, everything and Alejandra was always there.

Juan was also a good influence on her too. Alejandra could be accused of being flaky and insensitive to others- never thinking about her actions having consequences. Since Juan started becoming a bigger part of her life, Alejandra soon had to learn how to work, and work hard by his side. She had been impatient and annoyed by such tedious things such as paperwork and long diplomatic speeches but she also suffered through it because she loved the bright look in Juan’s eyes when the job was successfully completed. Over time, Alejandra learned to exercise patience and restraint, knowing that the eyes of the kingdom were on her.

The two got married just as King Valero grew sick and old, so they could prepare for a new era as rulers. This new era involved them to be more part of the subject’s lives. Alejandra openly mingled in the via mercado, shopping for herself and Juan never expressed the same disdain for his servants and lower classes as his parents had done. He even hired his old comrades and began to start a new, un-interfered with, friendship. They believed in actions defining who they were and tried to uphold an image of benevolence and golden-age wisdom to their peoples.

Unfortunately with Alejandra’s death from pneumonia, Juan lost his greatest companion and Alonso lost his mother. Alonso was only 5-6 at the time and Juan was at a complete loss on how to raise a rambunctious little boy by himself. He tried not to fall into old habits of closing himself off but he did. Juan thought he could remedy the situation by remarrying but found that he could only compare the ladies to his Alé while Alonso was left to his nannies and maids.

Juan changed his tune one day when he had to take care of Alonso during the nanny’s day off. Alonso was 8 a the time and had the same similar energy and light-heartedness as his mother. The two spent the whole day together, playing in the park. Juan made him lunch and they just had fun. It made Juan realize that maybe he can parent all on his own. He may not be able to replace Alejandra as a mother, but he is still able to be supportive and playful with his son. So Juan arranged more time for just Alonso and him, but he was still away from Alonso a lot because of kingly duties. Juan didn’t want to have Alonso trained like he was and also indulged a lot of Alonso’s carefree nature because it was so much like Alejandra. Which led to Alonso becoming the reforming but still lazy and egotistical guy we know today.

Ramon Family Headcanons

Alonso’s birth was a huge occasion. All the kingdoms from Satu to Enchancia were invited for his christening, and no forgotten invitations a la Sleeping Beauty were committed. It was their first big celebration as a “whole” family and there was a rare reversal of roles. Alejandra was the one who wanted everything to be just perfect while Juan was more about enjoying the day. There were no big incidents except for the chocolate fight between the Avalora and Paraiso ambassadors, renewing the old feud over whose chocolate was better. The walls smelt like chocolate for months afterwards. Alejandra loves to retell that story to Alonso for his bedtime playing out the parts of the two ambassadors with comically exaggerated accents and fake mustaches.

Stories at bedtime were a big thing. It was mainly Alejandra’s domain because she was the “actress” of the family while Alonso and Juan were the enthralled audiences. But Juan would join in on the play-acting fun too and show off his suit of armor. For the longest time Alonso thought his father was an actual knight and not the king.

Juan has a special love and hobby-interest in chariots and their father-son time includes repairing and buying all kinds of chariots. They have quite a collection of vintage and new ones.

Going off on the chariots, the two would take Alonso in chariot rides. Only they had a argument over whose driving was worse. Alejandra loved to go as fast as she could on scenic drives while Juan was a much safer driver, but chose routes filled with so many hills and valleys that it felt like a roller coaster even if he wasn’t driving that fast.

Their favorite game to play was hide and seek in the palace which inevitably led to the couple losing their child among the many rooms. The two would panic, send out a search party and then find him sneaking food from the kitchen pantry or peeking at the royal jewels. Then while the rest of the palace staff is still in search for the missing prince, the three would sit together, eating the stolen food or letting him dress up in all the glittering jewels.

Alonso was the couple’s wake up call in the morning. In contrast to his Let-me-stay-in- bed- for-a-few-more-hours whining teen years, young Alonso was always up early, ready to get into adventures of a brand new day. Juan and alejandra would always wake up to the sound of Alonso’s little feet running to the room and launching himself on top of them, jumping up and down until they got up.

I picture Alejandra to look like Lily James