#my husband and friend know I’m nonbinary but the other people do not

[raeathnos]

.

[stag-symbolism]

I’ve entered this weird place in my life where I feel like I went back into the closet.

I am 18 and have been openly talking about being a queer person with my family since I was around 11 years old. I told everyone in my family that I liked girls and boys, and that I wasn’t a girl. I told my family and friends that I was a boy until around age 14 when I started to give myself the space to experiment with being nonbinary and genderfluid.

Recently though, I’ve noticed that I don’t talk about liking women and men anymore, I don’t give people my pronouns, and I don’t correct anyone when they assume what they want. I talk to my mom about finding a husband and bring him to church with us, I talk to my friends about boyfriends and future kids, and I never mention how I am a bisexual queer person to anyone.

And today I think it really did hit me that I have been presenting as a straight woman to everyone that I know. I feel like I have hidden this part to myself that is so integral. Being a queer person is such a HUGE part of my life and my identity and it has been for years, but I’ve made it so that it’s not anymore. I love being queer, I love being me, but because I’ve not been me for a while and I’m pretending to be someone I’m not, I almost don’t feel anything towards myself.

I’ve heard a quote before that says something like the opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s not feeling anything at all.

I’m sure a ton of other people feel this way, and I’m sorry if you do. I guess we’re here in this weird feeling together.

[kiragecko]

This is a post about why I'm currently considering myself to be nonbinary, but it's not a post about gender.

-

It’s about 90% of the elementary school girls wanting to sit on the grass and talk about boys, and me still not understanding why even now, in my mid 30s.

It’s about ‘girls books’ that were all about friendship drama and worrying about menstruating, and how these were framed as universal concerns. My only friends were a pair of male cousins and we mostly cared about how our Lego ninjas’ castle infiltration was going. (The options were limited in my small library in the mid-90s.)

It’s about the ‘wild’, ‘disobedient’, and 'hyper' kids in the books I grew up with being so much better behaved than me, even on my best day, that I’d puzzle over it for weeks. Maybe if my parents were stricter I would be able to follow instructions easier? Maybe I was one of the mean kids in those books? Why was nobody in books like me?

It’s about the revulsion I feel when I think about ‘romantic’ gestures. Remembering my mom getting flowers from someone at church, and my aunt getting upset when I laughed about how she wouldn’t like them. MY MOM IS ALLERGIC TO FLOWERS, but a person who had nothing to do with the situation got offended that I didn’t consider them a thoughtful and nice gift. It makes me feel nauseous thinking about how I’m ‘supposed’ to think things that I don’t want and can’t use are loving gifts, just because society decided they were.

It's about people wanting me to already know their social conventions, and feeling like they are doing SO MUCH WORK when they make allowances for my mistakes, but thinking that learning anything about how I like to communicate is asking far too much of them.

It's about trying to make friends as a teen, and all the guys getting upset or weird when it became clear that wasn't code for dating.

It's about makeup giving me rashes, and my hair being done up giving me headaches.

It’s about women in lingerie in ads, and how I wore a headscarf for a year in reaction to how that made me feel.

It's about learning biblical gender roles, and getting really excited about the idea of protection and love in return for submission. And then finding out I like the BDSM understanding of protection and submission a lot more than I like the church's. That the person I love doesn't have the skill to protect me in ways that make submission safe.

It’s about having noise and light sensitivities, but being expected to enjoy crowded weddings.

It’s about people acting disgusted when I get too loud. Or excited. Or happy. Or interested.

It's about 'body language experts' that ""explain"" what various gestures mean, and it's about that month when my husband believed them and told me I was wrong about what I felt.

It's about definitions of 'womanhood' and 'humanity' that contain things that exclude me. And learning how to be okay with being the exception this time. And eventually getting so used to being the exception that I can no longer connect to the concept at all.

It's about only reading fantasy, now, because an elf's experience isn't supposed to be relatable.

It’s about learning that ‘I actually wanted’ things I didn’t want, and I was ‘unreasonable’ when I said no, and I was being ‘too sensitive’ when things physically or emotionally hurt.

It’s about being ADHD and aroace and weird in far too many ways; in a culture that seems to consider that to be willful rebellion and disrespect.

-

I don’t know how to be a woman. I don’t know how to feel good about being a woman. I don't feel I can fulfill the roles and dynamics associated with femininity. I can't present myself in the expected ways, and I don't really want to. In isolation, 'woman' feels like an accurate description. But than I think of OTHER people considering me a woman, and having the right to define what that means, and I just can't.

I need a break from considering myself female, so I can figure out how to do it in a way that doesn’t break me.

I want to learn how to interact with other people in a way that are less exhausting and painful. Engage on my own terms, and disengage if those terms aren’t fulfilled. Protect my own boundaries with strangers and acquaintances - people I don’t expect to make allowances for me. Not by demanding things of them, but by only offering myself on certain terms.

I don't want to ask anything about anyone else. I'm tired of it being about them. I want to ask things of myself. Ask for respect, and care. Figure out what that would actually look like. I want to process and let go of my self-hatred and feelings of being 'designed wrong'.

I've heard the terms 'acegender' and 'neurogender'. They don't excite me, but I recognize that's part of what's going on. Having ADHD gets in the way of performing womanhood to the point that it becomes hard to separate them. And some much of femaleness is defined in relation to being a part of a heterosexual romantic couple. I've got the man, but that hasn't helped me decode the mysteries of romantic and sexual attraction. The baffling concept of men having some sort of allure that women lack, of being a different category.

But, like my marriage isn't about my lack of attraction (it's about the choice I made to love him, and the decade plus of commitment we've had to each other), being nonbinary isn't about my lack of understanding of and ability to perform womanhood. It's about choosing to love myself, and recognizing that I've internalized enough harmful beliefs that I can't healthily identify as female right now.

It's not about gender.

[kieraelieson]

Differences in Support

A weird kind of informal essay I’m writing at 2 am and not editing.

This will involve details of my childhood, which may be triggering to people with similar experiences. Open the read-more with this knowledge.

I’ve been thinking more about that post where someone’s being queerphobic at Thomas Sanders. And it had me thinking of experiences I’ve had where people were queerphobic towards me.

When I was a younger teen, I was intensely affectionate. I wanted to hold hands and link arms with people I was close to, I wanted to lean on them and feel their affection towards me. Two specific situations come to mind, one with a friend and one with my sister.

My friend Mary* had been getting ‘too close’ to her female friends, according to her parents. One time I was walking with her and held out my hand.

She awkwardly moved her arm away rather than taking it, saying with great disappointment and embarrassment, “My Mom says I can’t hold your hand anymore. Cause when we do it looks too… like that… If anyone from my family sees us holding hands I’ll get in trouble.”

It wasn’t with all of her friends that she was banned from holding hands. Just me and one other. Cause we ‘looked too gay’.

The other situation I remember was with my sister, Elsa*. We were going shopping for groceries together. I enjoyed it because without any other members of our family around, we could behave more like ourselves, and the experience would be better. I linked my arm with hers, laughing and enjoying the shopping trip.

I noticed that she grew stiffer, colder as the trip continued. I chalked it up to protectiveness, and anxiety from the harsh lights and loud sounds of the store. But when we reached the car she turned on me.

“You’re really oblivious, aren’t you? Didn’t you see all those looks we were getting?”

“What looks?”

“Like they thought we were gay or something. You clearly didn’t see them, but we were getting glared at the whole time.”

I laughed. “But we’re sisters? Wouldn’t they feel silly if they knew.”

She frowned, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “It’s cause of you, hanging off me the whole time. You give off a… like an aura that you’re gay.”

At the time, I was so far in the closet I was still in denial, and tried to dismiss this.

She turned away. “You should really find a way to stop looking like it then. People notice, and it’s going to get you in trouble.”

Even just the appearance, the hint or suspicion of queerness cost me so much in those relationships. These times hurt me badly. It felt like my affection, my love, was turned into the knife to stab me with.

Now, though, things are different.

I kiss my husband, who is nonbinary. Our boyfriend looks on, and says with fondness, “Gaaaaaaay~”

“Yeah, we are,” either me or my husband will say, smiling.

Now I walk into a new location and I hold a partner’s hand tight, knowing that if anyone levels a dirty look at us my partner will glare right back, and if we’re uncomfortable we will leave.

Now I wear my keys on a rainbow colored lanyard, and have a rainbow heart on the door of my house.

Now the flags that represent us are hanging on the wall over mine and my husband’s bed.

Now my husband holds hands with me and their other partner as we walk through the park.

Life is better now. I have real, genuine support.

[devilsvine]

hi fellas. sorry to make a post like this but i really don’t know what else to do<3

hi i’m ken. my significant other and i are in a polyamorous relationship. i am gay and trans, they are nonbinary and pan, their husband is trans and pan. currently, them, their husband, and their 3 year old are homeless due to a series of being fucked over. the baby (my niece) is currently somewhere safe, but my s/o and friend are homeless right now and my roommates will not let me have them stay here any longer. their husband works, but my s/o is disabled and cannot work. because the USA is a hellscape, they don’t get disability payments because they’re married. their only other option is to live in their car, but that’s in danger of being repo’d.

tldr, the people i love are in a really rough spot and i’m at the end of my rope. i’m helping as much as i can, but i’m a full time student with a minimum wage job.

please, if you’re able to help, please do so. i do not know what else to do.

if you’re just feeling charitable,

venmo: kenl0rd

cashapp: $himb0logy

paypal

otherwise, i can offer art commissions (my art tumblr is @dangerrdaze if you’d like to see my work), tarot readings, spellwork commissions, and reiki treatments (i am certified Reiki 2 and able to do remote treatments. i can provide proof of my certification.) i’m also open to remote sex work. if any of this sounds good to you, DM me for further details.

the current goal is $5k, to move them into a place we know for sure can take them with their bad credit. any little bit helps.

$80/5000

please share this around!🧡

[chainslobber]

I’m sorry this might not be a good place to vent.

I just hate living with my family sometimes, I feel like nobody cares because all I hear from them are “there are people with bigger problems than you” or “you’re so sensitive” or “even blank can do better than you.”

I want to cry but I can’t, I really want to tell them how I feel but I know they don’t care they’ll always play it off as a joke and saying I’m overreacting.

Worst of all are my brothers whom I feel I’ve made a mistaken in telling them I was question my identity and told them I don’t want to hear the labels, “girl” “lady” “woman” directed at me. When I’m with them I tell them to label me with they/them.

however they’ve been doing nothing but ganging on me, berating every little thing I do. I’ve asked them “why are you doing this to me?” My youngest brother who is only 10 said “it’s because we’re boys and you’re a girl.” Maybe I can forgive that being 10 is considered quite young right? But worst is my brother who I can’t excuse who’s 16 AGREED WITH HIM.

I can’t take it anymore

Hello, OP, feel free to vent!

As a fellow nonbinary who's AFAB in a household of men, I understand how annoying and frustrating it can be. When I moved back home, my dad just gave me a big old grin and went 'finally, a woman's back in the house, it's gonna be so clean now!" Even now, almost three years later, my dad is convinced it's a woman's duty to keep the house clean, and if ANYTHING needs to be done, he'll only ask me--not my brother or my husband or even offer to do it himself. That's all I'm meant to do.

My own brother looked at my asexual flag once and went 'you got raped so you can't be asexual, right? How're you ever going to make a man happy if you don't want sex?" And my father can't fathom why I don't shave my legs because 'it's disgusting for a woman to be hairy."

I'm 32 and I wish I could say it gets better, OP, but it doesn't. Some people just really don't give a shit about you, even your own flesh and blood, but there are people who DO care. Make your own family and friends, and whenever you get the chance to move out, MOVE. Don't fucking look back. I've had to move back home a few times because I'm a failure and every time I convince myself 'it's been a few years, it'll be different this time' and then have my dad call me a cripple or the hard R slur because I messed something up.

You're always welcome to vent here because I know how frustrating it can be to want to be yourself and comfortable in your own skin and your own flesh and blood considering you to be lesser. You're not. If you're questioning your pronouns, question them! If you're AFAB but feel happier as a tomboy or boyish or NB, then that's okay! Life's WEIRD and it's too short to be unhappy. You'll never convince your family of your identity because they don't care about you--they've made that pretty obvious.

But other people want you to be safe and happy. Follow those people, follow those good feelings--you deserve happiness in any capacity.

[elamimax]

Writeblr Introduction

Hey hi hello, I’m Ela, Ela Maxima or Ela Bambust (my real name isn’t a secret). I’m a refugee from twitter, though I was technically on twitter ten years ago. The passwords to those accounts have been lost, like tears in rain.

I’m a writer of queer and trans fiction, often with a very heavy emphasis on affirmation, leaving “queer suffering” narratives for others to tell. I’m here for the trans superheroes, the lesbian witches and nonbinary monsterfuckers. I try to keep the genres in which I write broad, because I like to pretend that it keeps me sharp or something, so I’ve written stuff from children’s picture books and YA novels to explicit erotica and hardcore body horror.

Other than that: I’m a European national, spent some time in the US, I use she/they if you know me and she/her if I don’t, I currently live with two clingy cats, my biggest literary influences are <modem dialup noise>* and I’m a sucker for Food, both in practice and in concept. Oh, and I’ve written 18 novels and novellas, which I’m all gradually getting published to amazon.

I’d like to try to get to know writing tumblr a bit, see what’s up, and then we can go from there!

Current WIPs

On Verdant Wings: Part two of the commissioned Verdant trilogy and sequel to Through Verdant Mirrors, Wings is the story of an orphaned “boy” become princess become queen. In the five years since she’s ascended the throne, Vera has become nigh obsessed with magic and the idea of finding others, those trapped in the wrong bodies, like her. The fact that there is a nymph living in her head who can do actual magic makes this a lot more manageable. But when she and her lovely husband Clarus go on a political visit to the neighbouring nation of Raasland, things start going spectacularly wrong. This one has a dragon in it.

Penumbra Redshift: Also a sequel (and also about someone with a creature in their head. It’s a running theme), Redshift is the sequel to Penumbra. In the first one, the Symbiote Penumbra (Penny to their friends) bonded with the incredibly depressed Maxine Powers, gradually teaching her that asking for help is allowed. It was an examination of depression and self-worth that just happened to star a transgender superhero. Redshift, then, is a spin-off featuring a new protagonist (Eric McCarthy) and a new Symbiote, Amaranth (Amy, of course). Together they will discover the meaning of antifascist action through the power of friendship and rioting.

Flipping Out: 6 kids all grow up together in Fuckoff Nowhere, Who Cares, all trapped in their own way. When one day they find a coin that lets them turn into anyone they can think of, the possibilities for hijinks and nonsense are endless. When fifteen years later they meet again at a swanky wedding, the six take a long hard look back at the road behind them, and the various adventures and betrayals that led them down that path.

Parasite: What if Penumbra (or Venom, if you like) was unrepentantly evil and cruel. An exploration of body horror and extreme discomfort. This one is not for publication nor is it really for a specific audience. This is the literary equivalent of picking at a mental scar and seeing what’s under there.

So yeah! Feel free to say hi, I’m basically always writing.

*I don’t cite my literary influences and heroes because people get extremely weird about those.

[deathxproof-archive]

Get To Know Susan Foreman 5!

“How much Classic Who / Extended Who lore do I need to know—-“ 

I’m gonna be honest, like, none. Know that she is the Doctor’s granddaughter. Know that she is a Time Lord who has regenerated from that girl. I play fast and loose with her canon / the lore I know from different novels and audios. You don’t need to be familiar with any source material if you don’t want to be. Here are my rules, which do matter more than any of that. That being said, let’s get into Susan!

Basics—

Default Regeneration: 5

Name: Susan Foreman 

AKA: Arkytior, Susan Campbell, Susan Rose Foreman(ooc AKA: arkytiorforeman circa 2013-2017)

Age + DOB: ??? 450??ish? Unknown. She found out this regeneration is a Taurus, though. She’s specifically a Taurus Sun, Aquarius Moon, and Gemini Rising. She checked her TARDIS records for when she regenerated specifically. She wanted to know.

Gender: Woman-adjacent. Probably nonbinary, if not more agender.

Sexuality: Queer??? Space Queer?

Species: Gallifreyan. Time Lord? Gallifreyan. 

Occupation: Museum curator. History and ghost tour guide. Botanist. Herbalist. 

Faceclaim: Angel Coulby

Susan 5’s Playlist!: Only Culturally Gallifreyan

Background— 

Current Residence: By and large her TARDIS. Verse-dependent. Defaults to London, England, sometime in the late 20th to earlyish 21st century. 

TARDIS Appearance: Grandfather clock.

Parents: If you have some lore you’re attached to let me know, but I tend to lean towards writing a head canon that Arkytior/Susan was accidentally loomed or otherwise brought into existence by Theta, Koschei and Ushas, or maybe just happened upon. As far as she’s aware she isn’t… Quite… Sure. About her parents. Nobody ever talked about it. The Doctor is still her closest parental figure. The Master was a close parental figure. The Rani was there, sometimes. Less parental and more… Aunt-ly.

Parents Pt 2: The Doctor(Father), The Master(Father), The Rani(Mother?)(Strange Aunt?)

Significant Others: David Campbell(very deceased) 

Children: Barbara Foreman(estranged/deceased), Ian Foreman(estranged/deceased), David Foreman Jr(estranged/deceased), Alex Campbell Foreman(very deceased). 

Other Family Members: The Doctor(Grandfather), The Master(?)(Grandfather?), The Rani(????)(Grandmother? Strange Aunt?), Irving Braxiatel (Uncle)

Chosen Family: Barbara and Ian Chesterton(old, good friends), Johnny Chesterton(new, good friend. Ian and Barbara’s child. Susan’s pseudo-godchild.) 

Quickest Biography I Can Muster—

Susan Foreman in her current form and state of being is roughly 450-475 years old, and sporting her fifth face. 

Four(4) faces ago she was a little Gallifreyan girl just changing her name and fucking around with her Grandfather and her two good Earth friends. Then she was left on a hostile time in Earth’s history with her then-future-husband, David, by the Doctor. They adopted a handful of children and tried to make a life in alien-hostile, Dalek-infested 22nd Century Earth. 

Three(3) faces ago she regenerated after people began to question why David looked so much older and Susan stayed, well, literally exactly the same. The same face, but older. But not too old, either. Her son Alex died by Dalek attack, and in a turn of events not long after the Master kidnapped and killed David in front of her. Susan, in defense, killed the Master and stole his TARDIS. As one does. Her psychic skills were always impressive, apparently, compared to other Time Lords. She didn’t know how so until she got a test for it. And why wouldn’t she keep a TARDIS she rightfully earned, anyways?

Two(2) faces ago… Two faces ago she didn’t last long. The events surrounding David and Alex estranged her from her own surviving kids in a way she tried to swear wouldn’t happen when she was the parental figure. Her remaining kids wanted nothing to do with her. The Time Lords thought her dead, and when she could’ve received any summons to the Time War, she simply ignored them anyways. Eventually they went away— and when they came back she spent the majority of her regeneration in the chameleon arch under a fobwatch in a last ditch effort to avoid any chance of returning to her home planet, let alone one that was burning.  

One(1) face ago she began to reunite with Barbara and Ian Chesterton on Earth. This involved meeting their kid, Johnny, and taking Johnny around with her for a few trips and hang outs here and there. She was fine, definitely not still in a bad place after her kids and her husband all died, definitely not angry and sad because the rest of her children estranged themselves from her after David and Alex dying, definitely didn’t react as poorly as anyone might to their home being destroyed while they willingly hid, definitely didn’t try to die by inhibiting her regeneration on purpose hahahaa why would she do that? 

Face Number Five, Right here, right now she’s… Still freshly regenerated, for the most part. Definitely figuring herself out sometimes- most times. She’s often rather manic in this point in her regeneration, reckless, flighty and feels ever-so-slightly invincible after her coincidental survival. She’s bubbling over with life and energy and space where she wants to be. Earth is her home more than anything else, sometimes viewing humans as an anthropological study that she couldn’t put down to the point of entangling her life into them. 

Susan hops between hobbyist time travel and attempting to build some sort of, any sort of life of her own around the Chestertons. As she settled into this face, the more Barbara and Ian tried to encourage her to get a job, a steady career to give her something to do. Johnny encouraged it if only to help their friend build some sort of identity. 

She job hops. History and ghost walking tours were good fun and a way to show off, until people online started to realize she was giving tours in different countries in the same week. Real estate was completely dull. Working with plants was promising… Currently she resides as the lead art curator for a museum in London. It’s amazing, she has an incredible knack for finding mysteriously lost or otherwise stolen artworks. It’s great luck, knowing the right people at the right time. It would be silly for Ian or Barbara to even suggest time travel was involved in the slightest.

Susan 5 is here for a good time, not a long time. If you ask her, she clearly has regenerations to spare. Lives are less a dwindling resource and more a tool she can rely on when needed. She is figuring out her personhood, doesn’t exactly know who she is— but her name is Susan Foreman. And she’s new, she’s young, she’s fresh, she’s hot. Let’s see where this goes.

[razorsadness]

My life is pretty good, these days. Not perfect, of course, but I’ve had a lot of moments recently when I’ve been in the middle of doing whatever and said to myself, a la Kurt Vonnegut: “If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.”

For a while I was going through an “ugly phase,” where every time I saw myself (in photos, in the mirror), I’d go uggghhh. I felt old and hideous. But I’m past it now. I got over it partly by focusing on other stuff that makes me happy—when I’m focused on other stuff, I care less about how I look, but what ends up happening is that the happier I am with other aspects of my life, the better I think I look.

My gender has flipped again, and I once again feel like a woman. I’ve also gone back to using both they/them and she/her pronouns (like, officially; unofficially I’m okay with they, she, and he, especially if people switch them up a lot), for several reasons which I don’t feel like enumerating right now. Every time something like this happens—meaning I change pronouns or genders, particularly when the pronouns or gender align with my AGAB—I go through a brief crisis of: “Oh my god, I’m not really nonbinary, I was just fooling myself the entire time.” And then I remember that I’m genderfluid, and pronouns =/= gender, and even calling myself a girl or a woman doesn’t have to mean just one thing. Like I wrote in my recent novel-related zine, about the character Whiskey (who is me and not-me): ‘Girl’—or any other gendered term—isn’t a box, it’s a signifier. When you call Whiskey a girl, you’re pointing toward a set of characteristics they have, which may or may not be the same characteristics any other ‘girl’ has. You know what you mean when you say Whiskey’s a girl. If the reader doesn’t get it? Fuck ‘em. That’s their problem.

Saturday night was the big Literacy Council fundraiser at the Roma Lodge, which I was an invited guest at, along with some of the other previous and current Writers-in-Residence. And I got a plus-one, so P. went with me. The dinner was good; they served it family-style for every table, so we passed around salad and bread, followed by fried chicken, mostaccioli, and meatballs. The best part of the evening was the timed Scrabble tournament. Our table won, and they gave us all these really nice journals as prizes; but just the playing itself was so much fun, and full of hilarious moments that I was laughing about for days afterward. And it was great to be around so many of my friends, and to have my husband with me—most times when I’m at an event, he’s home with the kids.

Sunday night I attended an online (Zoom) poetry open mic. A lot of my friends and acquaintances read that night, and it was great to hear them, but then there was this mix-up with the sign-up list so I ended up never getting ��called to the mic,” and I was bummed. But then the next day I got a message from the host—he felt so bad about the whole thing that he offered me the feature slot for April. I accepted!

And speaking of April… For years now, I’ve thought about applying for [redacted], and I finally went for it, and I got accepted! So in April I’m doing [redacted]. I’m excited, and a little nervous, but mostly excited.

Monday and Tuesday were super warm—in the sixties, which is incredibly warm for the upper midwest in March, especially here by the lake. I spent a lot of time outside, both days. Monday, C. and I took a quick trip downtown, to get this year’s veggie garden seeds from the library; afterwards, we got gelato at the cafe. Tuesday, we took a long walk, and I got to have my first iced coffee of the year.

Wednesday, late afternoon, the temperature dropped, and I got a massive sinus headache (as I often do when the air pressure changes rapidly). It hurt so bad I got nauseous and shaky and wanted to cry; I had to lay in bed for a while with my heated sinus mask on just to make it even somewhat bearable. Sometimes I think my sinus issues don’t count as a real disability, but then something like that happens and I’m like: wait, the pain is sometimes so bad I can’t do anything? Yeah, that’s a real disability.

Yesterday I hung out with my mom. It’s so weird. Half the time she stresses me the fuck out and I don’t even want to be around her (like—half the time I love her but I don’t like her, ya know?), but the other half the time we have a blast and I’m really glad she’s my mom. Yesterday was a lovely day. We went downtown. She treated us to brunch. I had a twist on an Irish coffee, what they call an “Irish Americano”—a cafe Americano with both Irish whiskey and bourbon in it—and the Mediterranean skillet (eggs served over hashbrowns mixed with red onion, tomatoes, artichoke hearts, kalamata olives, feta cheese, and hummus). We sat there for a long time, even after we finished eating, and had a great conversation. Then we went to the art museum, and I saw a lot of really amazing pieces, and got inspired, and got emotional, and gosh I just love art so much!! And I’m so happy our town has not one but two art museums! And then I splurged a little in the gift shop. Oh, yeah: I have a credit card now! My first-ever credit card, at age forty fucking two, because I never qualified for one before. My bank offers secured credit cards to help people build their credit, and I applied for one earlier this month and got accepted. I purposely set it for the lowest limit possible, and believe me, I’m being very careful not to overspend to the point where I’ll never pay it off. But if I never use it at all, I’ll never build my credit, so…yeah, I splurged just a tiny bit. I bought a gorgeously illustrated book of excerpts from Pablo Neruda poems (that one’s for me and the kids), and a card game that involves both visual art and poetry, which, well, sign me the fuck up.

We also had a neat interaction with one of the gift shop cashiers—he’d seen the umbrella I was carrying when we walked in, a University of Michigan umbrella, and told us he’d recently moved here from Michigan. We asked him what part, and he said Flint, and we were like hey! We lived there, too! He’d lived there his whole life up until six months ago when he moved to Wisconsin, whereas we only lived there for six years (and left 34 years ago), but still. Small world.

Last night, P. and I had some wild, passionate sex.

On the not-so-good front: this morning, P. started coming down with some unspecified yuck. He’s testing negative for CoViD so far, which is good, but I know there’s a gnarly non-CoViD chest cold floating around right now, too, as I have some friends who’ve had it. Unfortunately, this means we can’t go to the St. Patrick’s Day parade tomorrow, which sucks, but what’re you gonna do? I’m trying to take precautions—I’ve changed out the sheets and towels, aired out the bedrooms, wiped down surfaces, and taken Emergen-C. P. is keeping to himself as much as possible. So far, the kids and I still feel okay, so hopefully we don’t get whatever it is (or that it’s mild, if we do).

I had to go out and run some errands today (post office, grocery store), so I masked up and went out (I’m not perfect about masking 100% of the time, but I always mask if I have any symptoms of anything or if I know I’ve been exposed to something). I had a lovely interaction with an old woman at the grocery store. (I say she was old not as a pejorative, but because she was definitely in her late eighties or maybe even in her nineties.) We were both entering the liquor department at the same time, and she said: “I love your hair! I used to be a redhead, too, before it went white.” “Thanks! This isn’t my natural color, though.” “I know,” she said. “No one’s hair is that shade. But it suits you! And I love your boots, too!” (I was wearing my tall black boots with all the buckles, that I got for my birthday.) “Thank you!” I said again. “And I love your jacket!” (She was wearing a very pretty yellow jacket.) Then we happened to both be going for the Jameson. She laughed and said: “I can’t drink like I used to—I used to be able to put ‘em away with the best of ‘em—but you have to have a little Jameson on St. Paddy’s Day!” “Or just because it’s a day that ends in a ‘y’!” I said, half-joking. She laughed and said: “Oh, I love your spirit, too! Perhaps I will just take you home with me!” I don’t know if she meant that in a queer way or an “you’re the granddaughter I never had” way, but either way, I appreciated it. I love encounters like that with elderly folks; I like knowing that one can live that long and still have that kind of energy.

What else? It’s Pisces season, still. Which means I have strange, intense dreams nearly every night, and during the day I’m either horny, or sad, or both. I know, I said I’m mostly happy these days, and I am, but I’m still sad a lot, too. Maybe ‘melancholy’ is a better word for what I mean.

I have a crush, my first proper crush (i.e., not a friend-crush, and not a crush on a celebrity) in a while. Her name is K., I first met her back in November, and for a while I tried to convince myself it was just a friend crush. “No no, I don’t have a crush on her,” I’d say to myself, “I just think she’s neat and wanna hang out with her.” But then when I compared how I feel when I run into her or see pictures of her, or just even think about her, vs. how I feel about my friend-crushes, I was like: “Ooooh, okay, no, she definitely gives me pants feelings and a little flutter in my tummy. It’s a crush crush.” Nothing shall come of this crush, but that’s okay. I’m fine with casually crushing on her. It’s nice just to feel those feelings again. Gets the blood flowing, makes me know I’m still alive, y’know? Plus, since she’s also a poet and spoken word performer whose work I love, I’m using some of the crush energy to try and impress her with my literary artistry.

And I have been missing past loves, what else is new. I’ve been missing A.D. and A.C., my two boys with the same first name from the same Chicago suburb. I’ve been missing "Sullivan," and S., and F. And of course other than the two A.s, I haven’t seen or spoken to any of them in years and years. And even with the A.s… I realize that I don’t know them anymore, so when I miss them I’m missing who they were—and I’m also missing who I was back then. What’s that quote about desire? About how it’s not just a desire for a person, place, or thing, but rather a desire to be the person who fits with that person, place, or thing? It’s like that. When I miss old loves (or old friends, or places I once knew, etc.), I don’t just miss them, I miss being the person who fit with them, once upon, however briefly.

But then there’s the flipside to all the yearning for new crushes and old flames, and that’s realizing: I do have a lot of amazing people in my life. I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years, but I still have so many wonderful friends, both old and new. In the past year, I’ve even reconnected with some people whom I thought were out of my life for good, and it’s just good to know—though some friends may leave my life forever, others will come in and out of it. Maybe "Filia" was right, all those years ago. Maybe some “see yas” really do mean “see ya down the road,” not “goodbye forever.”

And romantically—every day, I look at P. and am just so happy he’s my person. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs over the course of our relationship—as of June, we’ll have been together fifteen years—and I know we’ve both had times when we’ve thought of calling it quits. But we’ve always managed to work it out, and our relationship has gotten stronger and stronger, and I just love him so much. I can’t imagine having anyone else as my primary partner.

The kids have been flooring me lately, too, in the best possible way. Again, there are struggles, but overall I’m just amazed by them and love them more every day. Especially as they’ve both been getting into music—both playing it and listening to it. D. has gotten really into Pearl Jam, which is so funny. Partly because until fairly recently, he was ambivalent about rock music, and was more into techno and hip hop. Which is obviously fine; I like music in both those genres, and I’m definitely not the type of parent to force my kids to like what I like. (I introduce them to stuff I like, but I don’t make them like it, y’know?) So it’s kinda cool that he’s coming around to rock and its various subgenres on his own. But it’s also funny because he’s twelve, and it was around that same age that I first got into Pearl Jam.

I’ve been rekindling my love for Shakespeare’s plays, recently. Not that it ever really goes away completely, it’s just that it’s such a long-running special interest of mine that it’ll go on the backburner for a while, and then something will spark and it’s like oh no, I’m obsessed with Shakespeare again. Which is what’s happening currently. I’ve decided that I’m going to study Shakespeare with D. as part of his curriculum next month. We’re going to cover one comedy and one tragedy. I’ve already chosen Hamlet for the tragedy (he’s a moody tween, I think it’s perfect), but I haven’t chosen a comedy yet, because I love all of Shakespeare’s comedies so much.

On a related note: my mom recently had me go through the few things of mine that were still at their house, and one was a book called Shakespeare for Beginners, which I got when I was 15 or 16. I wasn’t even really a beginner at that point—I’d already seen many Shakespeare plays, and had been in A Midsummer Night’s Dream twice!—but I think I got it for a school project because it does have pretty good summaries of all his plays and a bit of his poetry. Anyway, I was flipping through it, and I found a letter inside, from the American Birding Association, thanking me for registering as a Young Birder of the Year, from the year I was 16/17. I laughed my ass off, and thought of that quote from Tight Pants zine about being the strange, smart kid. Because that time in my life was full of similar dichotomies. Yeah, I studied Shakespeare and was an amateur birder. I also had sex with boys and girls, went to punk shows, and got stoned. Punk? Punk! Or, you know, to quote Whitman: Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself.

The other week, in my Facebook memories, I saw a post I made in 2017: I declare this year my year of writing like hell and resisting despair. I reposted it, saying that I was gonna try to match that same energy this year, and so far I have been. I’ve got my novel in progress, I write 1-2 mini-zines a month for my zine subscription thing + the occasional installment of my Substack newsletter, and I’m still averaging 1.5 drafts of new poems per day. And then, Wednesday, I did my weekly tarot and oracle draw. This time, I drew one card from the Art Witch oracle deck, and one from the Rust Belt Arcana tarot deck. Both the cards I drew have to do with abundance, fertility, inspiration, and creativity—the Rainbow from the oracle deck, and The Empress from the tarot. I reread the chapter about The Empress in The Creative Tarot by Jessa Crispin, and in a creative sense, The Empress is all about having the ability to take creative ideas and bring them to fruition—and not only that, it’s all about being able to work on many different projects at once, successfully! So, that’s excellent news. Guess I can continue working on my novel, mini-zines, and Substack and still manage the [redacted] in April.

There is one project I’ve decided to…well, not give up on, just approach differently. I’ve decided not to pitch my book idea about [redacted] to [redacted]. I talked to a friend who has published in the [redacted] series, and… For one thing, they no longer offer advances, so even if they did accept the pitch, I’d have to bust my ass for six months to write it and not see a dime until it was published—which could be two years from now! And for another thing, based on what he said, I don’t think I’d have enough creative freedom with it. So I’m still going to write something about [redacted] eventually, but I think I’m going to self-publish it in zine form or as installments on my Substack (or both). Basically, I have such limited time these days, and so many projects I’m already working on, that I’m not going to take on another one unless it pays incredibly well (and fast) and/or I’m super passionate it about it. So I don’t want to start on a project that I wouldn’t see any money from for years and that I wouldn’t get to write the way I want.

Funny side note: The last time The Empress was coming up for me a lot was in early 2017. And yes, that year was incredibly fertile, in a creative sense. I did write like hell, and resist despair. But it was also the year I got pregnant with and gave birth to C. Thankfully, since P. had a vasectomy, I know that this time it means only the creative sort of fertility.

I made coconut curried salmon for dinner tonight, and it was awesome. Now I’m in bed, drinking a lil’ Jamo with ginger ale and lime, about to watch a movie, and crossing my fingers that I don’t come down with the yuck.

[lucysweatslove]

11.26.2023 // “best $41.99 I’ve spent in a long time.”

Actual quote from Husband.

A couple days ago, I wanted to start playing Cozy Grove, so my husband OK’d the purchase. I really liked playing it, but I was kinda annoyed that it isn’t a “sit and binge” kind of game, as that’s my usual play style. I get kinda bored and impatient if I can’t progress quickly in games, but I also get bored and impatient when a game becomes too difficult or takes too long to do the next “step.” Cozy Grove seems to be meant to be played in shorter half hour bursts or so, and on a daily basis. I love how mellow it is, so I’m hoping I will get used to this play style.

Anyway, since I couldn’t sit down and binge play, I wanted another game that isn’t technically difficult and had cozy vibes. I remembered another game my best friend recommended to me: Disney Dreamlight Valley. So I brought up that I wanted it, and when we got home, he had surprised me with the ultimate version.

I’ve been binge-playing it (I have two more biomes to unlock, but I might focus more on realms than biomes now, idk). Apparently I have been just totally absorbed in my game- husband came into the living room and told me it was the best $41.99 he’s spent in a while because of how happy I seem, just to watch me do little happy wiggles.

In totally unrelated news, I’ve still been trying to unpack body stuff. Well, it’s related insofar that I’ve been looking at my Disney Dreamlight character a lot and feeling disconnected in some ways from her. I think having that period of time where I felt so disconnected from the concept of having a body, and having pretty significant feeling “right” while westing clothes spurred my to think about body related issues lately, like I mentioned before when I talked about feeling not 100% female but not masculine either. I do still feel comfortable with the identity/label of a demigirl, I think? And there is a weird, very positive feeling I get with she/they pronouns. All good established things.

I’ve also had the chance to talk a little more with other AFAB people who also feel less than totally connected with the concept of femininity/being female, some that also like he/him and some that are more part-female, part-agender/void, and some that may flux. Gender is truly such a range of experience and expression, which I love, and I like knowing I’m not the only person who has wrestled with “is this just normal regular cisgender bullshit, or is this a little deeper?” One person identities with demigirl and it was great to hear their experience especially since I had never talked with another person who shared the identity term

I think I am still struggling though with this idea of “is the agender part of me agender enough to be nonbinary in some aspect?” Part of this… it seems like a lot of enby people take “androgyny” which IMO is actually very much masculine coded in our society. As somebody who identifies very little with masculinity, if at all tbh, I don’t want to be perceived as masculine. The androgynous or less feminine looks that I enjoyed when I was thinner read more masculine on my body now, to the point I actually feel dysphoric even thinking about wearing them. I do generally like my dresses and appearing feminine, but some days I don’t want that perception either, or alternatively I know that I’d rather have that perception than masculine but I feel like I’m just playing the role of Lucy the Feminine to get through, you know? But it feels performative for others and not ME. Like, because I have a fat body, I have to present more feminine to be accepted by others. (Sometimes I do really like feminine coded clothing, I just wish it wasn’t socially gendered).

I think this is why I like scrubs so much btw. And band teas + jeans of some sort + a hoodie. To me they’re gender-less without being actually masculine.

[vent-and-advice]

Hello there, I’ve made some horrible mistakes and it caused me to unintentionally hurt people and lose a lot of friends. This is going to be all over the place and I apologize for that. This all started on Discord. I’m a huge fan of Thomas Sanders. He changed my life in a lot of ways because he inspired me to be a better version of myself. Thomas is so full of life, energy, and enthusiasm. He’s kind, sweet, loving, affectionate, caring, and has the heart of gold. He’s very genuine, open, honest, and real. He touched so many lives, he’s an inspiration to so many people. I was on Discord and I was in a bunch of Sander Sides servers, I made friends with a lot of people and it was fun interacting with others and sharing our love for Thomas and his characters that are called “The Sander Sides” and everyone were very welcoming and sweet towards me! A lot of Fanders made videos for Thomas wishing him a happy birthday, anniversary, or just showing their appreciation towards him, and that’s what got me inspired to collaborate with a group of friends and make a video wishing Thomas a happy birthday. One of them decided to create a server because it’ll be easier for everyone to discuss what kind of videos, edits, fanart, and cosplays they want to do. So everyone can submit their creations and I added all of our creations into one video, edited it, posted it my YouTube channel, and Thomas reacted to it! He brought all of us together and the collaboration made us even more closer. We weren’t doing this to fanboy, fangirl, get a famous person to notice us or 15 minutes of fame. We did this out of the kindness of our hearts because this man truly touched our hearts.

The server wasn’t just about Thomas Sanders and video collaborations. It’s also a safe space for those that are going through difficult times such as homophobia, transphobia, abuse, and any sort of discrimination. A lot of members on the server are LGBTQ+. Their parents are not supportive and they are mistreated for being gay, lesbian, bisexual, trans, nonbinary, genderfluid, pansexual, etc. My heart was bleeding for them because they deserve to be treated with love, care, compassion, and respect. My co-owner decided to become the server dad because of it and we were becoming a close-knit family already. I asked if I can be the server mom because I have that motherly and nurturing personality. I don’t have any kids in real life but like I said before, I have that motherly and nurturing personality. I’m a shoulder to cry on, ear to listen, and hand to hold. I always encourage people and make them feel loved, accepted, appreciated, and happy. So, it was a natural calling to me. I literally tell people this “If your parents don’t support you for being gay or if they abuse you, I’m your new mom now.” The co-owner said yes and I was happy. They’re 18, polyamorous and dating two different people. I’m 26 and a heterosexual. I’m one of the oldest members of the server. The majority of the members are teenagers ages 15, 16, 18, and 19. Everyone was happy to have new parents that finally loved, accepted, respected and understood them. It brought all of us closer together. Everyone called us “Mom and Dad.” Everyone had a family role too. We had server aunts, uncles, sons, and daughters. Because of the age gap, I thought it would be weird for us to be server husband and wife because again, I’m 26 and they’re 18. One day, they gave me the role to be their server wife and I figured as long as they’re comfortable with it, I’ll accept and I gave them the role to be my server husband. It wasn’t meant to be taken literal because we don’t have feelings for each other and I wouldn’t date anyone who’s 18 or 19. It was just for the family dynamic. We called each other “Wifey and “Hubs/Hubby.” One of his partners was a member of the server and he was okay with it and he called me “Mom” also. We all called each other nicknames out of endearment. I called one of my friends “Kitten” and I didn’t know that it was inappropriate to call people. I was saying it in a motherly way for example a mother cat and all of her kittens. One person said “Kitten” and I explained that it was my way of saying sweetie, my dear, dear, and darling and the person I called that understood and told me they were cool with it. They never told me they weren’t comfortable being called that. Not on the server or a DM. Nobody on the server educated me or explained whey calling people “Kitten” is inappropriate either.

One day the co-owner messaged me, venting to me about their personal struggles and I was trying to encourage them but they wouldn’t listen to my advice. They told me that they valued his partners more than me as a friend and that’s the day I made a terrible decision. I overreacted and told them that I felt like my heart was stomped on, it felt like a kick in the throat, I was thrown into the dirt because I’ve done a lot for them and everyone else in the server. I guilt-tripped him and that was very rotten of me to do. One day he told me to stop calling him “Hubs” asked me to message him privately and he told me he wanted to take a break from the dad role. They told me they were hurt about those awful things I said. They also said that I seem to be clingy too. I respected their decision but I asked them are we no longer going to be a family because I didn’t understand the sudden change. I was pressuring and forcing them to be in a family dynamic they were no longer comfortable with. I felt horrible for the way I spoke to him, I took full responsibility for my actions, held myself accountable, and took ownership of my mistakes. Days later we made amends but they told one someone about the situation and they posted a thread about it on Twitter and I was accused of grooming minors, being inappropriate, and manipulating them. That wasn’t the case at all. They also mentioned the “Kitten” thing too. They said that I kept calling individuals kittens despite them telling me they were uncomfortable, but they never did. I only called one person that and they never told me that they were uncomfortable. I found out they were too scared to message me and tell that they were uncomfortable. There’s more but I don’t think I can fit everything into this. Everyone unfriended and blocked me. I had no idea what was going on because I thought me and co-owner made amends and I was working on learning healthier boundaries and trying to recenter myself. I was messaging our mutual friends constantly and daily because I went into a panic and I had no idea what was going on until I saw the thread on Twitter and the post on Instagram. It wasn’t my intention to hurt anyone because I would NEVER treat a child that way. Everyone called me a groomer, predator, and I was even told that I should register as a sex offender. The person I called “Kitten” didn’t give me the chance to apologize to them because they unfriended and blocked me. All I tried to do was be there for those in need and make everyone happy, not hurt them. Everyone hates me, and I feel like they’re going to tell Thomas about the situation and make him hate me too. I’ll never get to meet him one day because if I do, people will probably say “There goes that groomer over there!” All of this happened last month in June. I’m consumed with anxiety. I feel unloved, unwanted. I really need your advice because this has been weighing on me for too long.

Oh dear, this sounds complicated. Take a deep breath, drink some calming tea, and let's think about this.

So, you messed up. That's ok, everyone does. But you have to understand that people who aren't willing to hear your side of the story and make baseless accusations against you are never truly worth it in the end. I recommend saying your piece to these people and letting them choose to do with what you have said. And, I recommend also taking a break from online spaces in general. Being the constant shoulder to cry on in vent Discords may feel like an honor, but being responsible for the mental health of so many people can consume one with anxiety. Take some 'me time' to sort everything out.

And all that matters is you know who you are, and I know you'll find the people who will be able to judge your character as it is as well.

Now take this flower my friend and go off. Everything will be ok. You will be ok. You've got this. 🌺

[grizzcore]

it’s so telling that you still think we’re going to ever apologize to you when youve literally terrorized our family and traumatized my partner so badly they can’t make friends anymore and needed to to be put into therapy for the trauma you caused -

because your intense emotional abuse over the short time we were ever pleasant to you and then prolonged stalking behavior you’ve exhibited since we cut you off over two and a half years ago, including sending letters to our home after knowing you weren’t ever even supposed to know our address, posting about us on an average of once every week for over two and a half years since we went fully no contact with you for our own safety , writing and posting a SONG ? ABOUT KNOWING WHERE WE LIVE ?? AND ADDRESSING OUR FEAR OF YOU IN SAID SONG??, attempting to shoehorn your way back into our lives countless times despite our only request be that you fully stay away from us, copying our personal styles to a degree of uncanny-ness that even YOUR PARTNER POINTED IT OUT TO HIS MOTHER, and repeatedly calling my husband SLURS ?? MAKING A POST ABOUT MY HUSBANDS RAPIST YOU NEVER KNEW AT ALL AFTER WE HAD ALREADY CUT YOU OFF? Showing up to family events you KNEW YOU WERE NOT WELCOME AT TO BREAK THE NO CONTACT??

Oh and the repeated act of calling yourself a lesbian on this app while ACTIVELY DATING MY BROTHER IN LAW which I cannot even fathom the reasoning behind other than the same wanting to wear our skinness of it all and the jealously you clearly have about lesbianism which I’m not going to sit here and speculate about because its your business, even if it is gross to see as an actual lesbian

All of this. All of this because my partner and I were VICTIMS OF A VIOLENT HATE CRIME two and a half years ago, and while he was venting about the homophobic violence we had JUST SURVIVED , my partner called you straight - and when you corrected him and told him you were bi- which he GENUINELY DIDNT KNOW- he CORRECTLY called you straight passing - which you then had ‘your partner’ (we know you wrote that text) text my husband a paragraph long attack about how you are actually bi and nonbinary and only present femme because of a homophobic home life.

Which …. STILL MADE YOU STRAIGHT PASSING??

You then continue to insist we had to know you were bi because we had followed your insta where you apparently had your pronouns in your bio and posted about queerness -

Newsflash for you . We didn’t look at your insta, because we didn’t care. We are older than you and at the time we met you were a minor and we were in our early 20s and frankly weren’t interested in a close friendship with you at that time. You did not get that and started latching onto us and getting very offended any time we pointed out that we were much older than you. Which is hilarious considering you now paint this as we were adults who started “stalking your social media” since you were a minor - which isn’t even true. We didn’t start regularly watching your social media until you were an adult. People had sent us screenshots of your abuse towards us before then, and we had followed you until the no contact WE ESTABLISHED, but other than that we very rarely saw your socials unless promoted to by someone else informing us you had posted something about us.

Newsflash two- Being straight passing isn’t an insult, it’s a privilege. One you have , undeniably. someone pointing out your privilege isn’t an insult, though I know you struggle with this as you have the biggest victim mentality of anyone I ever met, which is crazy considering you wanted to become a cop when we met- and you being offended that people who are ACTUALLY visibly queer and who face VIOLENCE in the face of that did not appreciate you trying so desperately hard to relate to the real aggression faced by visibly queer people (and I mean VISIBLY as in you can look at someone and tell they are queer, not that you announce your queerness to everyone you deem safe to do so. There is a difference between visible queerness and being uncloseted - nether of which you fully were at the time.) as in ACTUALLY FACED because a man tried to KILL US WITH A BRICK ?? We only got away by risking our lives driving into opposite traffic while actively sobbing with fear for our lives??

You then recently right after we moved back to our home state, something we were horrified of BECAUSE OF YOU- had your sibling who you’ve described as “a violent cyber stalker with homicidal tendencies” start harassing my partner because *checks notes* he liked Harry Potter when he WAS A KID????

At which point we involved two mental health professionals, a social worker- and the police. Who instructed us to watch your social media to keep track of your aggression toward us because you seemed to be escalating toward violence.

You are still obsessively angry two and half years later because my partner wouldn’t falsely let you claim to relate to the violent homophobia faced by actual butch lesbians, especially those who are in butch4butch relationships that can be perceived as gay men on sight.

You were a flowy blouse and long skirt wearer with long brown hair dating a cisgender man who- listen here! Important info! EXCLUSIVELY REFFERED TO YOU BY SHE/HER PRONOUNS AND “GIRLFRIEND” UNTIL FAR, FAR AFTER ALL OF THIS.

So no, basil. We genuinely didn’t know you were nonbinary and bi until that conversation, nor does it make you and your partner any less straight passing. No one would hate crime you for the act of being in the car with your boyfriend.

You can be mad for the rest of your life that we don’t like you. You can be angry we feel unsafe because of you and your laundry list of volatile actions.

The only thing we ever did was tell you that you were straight passing, and then tell you later to leave us alone because of how horribly you reacted and for so long. And for this we have been subjected to years, literal years, of torment from an obsessed ruminator who cannot unlatch from their cycle of emotional disregulation to take a step back and think “hey maybe me posting about these guys who asked me to leave them alone all of the time , writing a song about them, sending a letter to their house in a different state, telling them I’m glad they’re scared of me, vague posting about them constantly, (this is the first time we’ve ever posted about you!) , sent my emotionally unwell sibling with cyber stalking issues after them, and then knowingly showing up to a family event I know I’m not supposed to go to because one of them who is particularly afraid of me because of the way I I targeted him so hard with my aggression when we were still friends and I was really unwell and then blew up at him repeatedly was going to be there, maybe… maybe I really should leave them alone. Stop posting about them. Maybe I’m causing years of trauma to two people who’s biggest crime was feeling unsafe around me when I was really unwell and now they don’t want to forgive me for the way I behaved because it was so damaging to them. Maybe I should just let this go. Maybe I have been the bad person in this scenario and just don’t understand how hard of a boundary has been set here.”

Instead of that you’re angry you won’t get your way and have us crawl back to you apologizing so you can , what? what exactly? tell us to go fuck ourselves ??

We don’t owe you an apology. We owe you nothing. No one owes you anything, not even validation. We don’t even want an apology from you- which we told you when we cut you off, the last time we ever contacted you in any way, directly or indirectly. We just want you to stay away from us and stop posting about us, because the trauma you caused by the constant trauma dumping, constant over attached behavior, lack of understanding of boundaries, the aggression you showed my husband, the lies you told me, the stalking behavior, the song, the letter

You need serious , serious help. All we want is for you to stop. We have had to feel unsafe for years because you were offended once.

We know you looked up to us. We get it’s hard to be cut off from people you had insisted were roll models to you. But your own behavior is what landed you there. You could not listen to basic boundaries and you were causing lasting harm even before you escalated to … all of this

I intended to never contact you in any way, and I will stick to that. I will continue to watch your blog as that is what , again, two mental health professionals, a social worker, and the police told us was necessary to protect ourselves because you behave in a way that indicates serious harm could come from you in the future and we need to document your threats and harassment to defend yourselves from you.

I asked them not to confront you because I felt guilt to even involve the police in this. I genuinely don’t want you hurt. I just want you to stop. Stop posting. Stop watching us. Stop talking about us.

My husband called you straight passing after someone tried to murder him - and for that? For that? we live in constant fear, not of the man who laughed while trying to kill us, but of YOU for making it an event we can never move past because you cannot stop bringing it up with no context and using it to justify your blind, unending, misdirected rage you will continue to take out on us until the second you are happy with who you are without the need for our validation

Let me make this very clear : you are not forgiven. We are not sorry. You are NOT welcome in our lives. You NEED to leave us alone. You are NOT welcome to our family homes. You are NOT going to hear from us directly , ever again. This is the last message I’ll ever write to you until it turns into a court date if your postings don’t stop.

You will never meet our children and if your partner is still with you when they are born; he will not be meeting them either. His disrespect of bringing you to an event he knew his brother would be at solidified to us both that he cannot be trusted to handle delicate family matters respectfully.

My husband has developed seriously debilitating mental health issues because of the stress this has caused. That is YOUR legacy. That two people cutting you off because of how badly you handled your emotions made you so angry you decided it was worth dedicating years of your life to mentally destroying them.

When I knew you you complained often that people abandon you with no reason. That people “intentionally misunderstood” you.

No, basil. People see you. People know that you have serious issues they don’t have the capacity to handle and they grow tired of the lashing out and excuses.

You try so hard , so so hard to ruin our lives and I’m done sitting down and taking it silently.

You’re a monster. You are the single most unwell person I’ve ever met. You made the trauma of two gay people almost getting murdered - about you, somehow - and yet cannot stop this insistence that we make everything about ourselves.

Basil you don’t know us. You barely let us speak in the time we knew you. You took up all the space over sharing, trauma dumping, and lying. We tried hard, and even after my husband realized what you were and distanced himself, I tried really hard to be there for you. I let you tell me anything, I really really tried to support you. But the second I told you that dating during the first year of sobriety was really dangerous and typically lead to abusive behavior and that no real reputable rehab program would encourage you to stay in a relationship you were in while actively using? you split on me so hard it was like a movie. And then you lied and tried so , so hard to convince everyone I made the whole thing up even when you WENT TO THE REHAB I RECOMMENDED. Which is the weirdest gaslighting I’ve ever experienced , to be honest.

I know this post is all over the place. I don’t care to lay it out by timeline- you know what you did. Or maybe you really don’t. Maybe your continued insistence that you don’t understand why people leave you is true. Maybe this stuff is so natural to you it rolls right off your back and doesn’t even register as damaging. Who knows.

What I do know ? Is that you’re never welcome back in our lives. And you’re certainly not getting an “apology”.

[deathxproof]

Get To Know Susan Foreman 5!

“I don’t really know Classic/EU Lore—“

I’m gonna be honest, like, you have to know none of it. Know that she is the Doctor’s granddaughter. Know that she is a Time Lord who has regenerated from that girl. I play fast and loose with her canon / the lore I know from different novels and audios. You don’t need to be familiar with any source material if you don’t want to be. Here are my rules, which do matter more than any of that. That being said, let’s get into Susan!

Basics—

Default Regeneration: 5

Name: Susan Foreman 

AKA: Arkytior, Susan Campbell, Susan Rose Foreman(ooc AKA: arkytiorforeman circa 2013-2017)

Age + DOB: ??? 550??ish? Unknown. She found out this regeneration is a Taurus, though. She’s specifically a Taurus Sun, Aquarius Moon, and Gemini Rising. She checked her TARDIS records for when she regenerated specifically. She wanted to know.

Gender: Woman-adjacent. Probably nonbinary, if not more agender.

Sexuality: Queer??? Space Queer?

Species: Gallifreyan. Time Lord? Gallifreyan.

 Occupation: Museum curator. History and ghost tour guide. Botanist. Herbalist. 

Faceclaim: Angel Coulby

Susan 5’s Playlist!: Only Culturally Gallifreyan

Background—

Current Residence: By and large her TARDIS. Verse-dependent. Defaults to London, England, sometime in the late 20th to earlyish 21st century. 

TARDIS Appearance: Grandfather clock.

Parents: If you have some lore you’re attached to let me know, but I tend to lean towards writing a head canon that Arkytior/Susan was accidentally loomed or otherwise brought into existence by Theta, Koschei and Ushas, or maybe just happened upon. As far as she’s aware she isn’t… Quite… Sure. About her parents. Nobody ever talked about it. The Doctor is still her closest parental figure. The Master was a close parental figure. The Rani was there, sometimes. Less parental and more… Aunt-ly.

Parents Pt 2: The Doctor(Father), The Master(Father), The Rani(Mother?)(Strange Aunt?)Significant Others: David Campbell(very deceased) 

Children: Barbara Foreman(estranged/deceased), Ian Foreman(estranged/deceased), David Foreman Jr(estranged/deceased), Alex Campbell Foreman(very deceased).

Significant Others: David Campbell(very deceased)

 Other Family Members: The Doctor(Grandfather), The Master(?)(Grandfather?), The Rani(????)(Grandmother? Strange Aunt?), Irving Braxiatel (Uncle)

Chosen Family: Barbara and Ian Chesterton(old, good friends), Johnny Chesterton(new, good friend. Ian and Barbara’s child. Susan’s pseudo-godchild.) 

The Quickest Bio I Can Muster For Her—

Susan Foreman in her current form and state of being is roughly 450-475 years old, and sporting her fifth face. 

Four(4) faces ago she was a little Gallifreyan girl just changing her name and fucking around with her Grandfather and her two good Earth friends. Then she was left on a hostile time in Earth’s history with her then-future-husband, David, by the Doctor. They adopted a handful of children and tried to make a life in alien-hostile, Dalek-infested 22nd Century Earth. 

Three(3) faces ago she regenerated after people began to question why David looked so much older and Susan stayed, well, literally exactly the same. The same face, but older. But not too old, either. Her son Alex died by Dalek attack, and in a turn of events not long after the Master kidnapped and killed David in front of her. Susan, in defense, killed the Master and stole his TARDIS. As one does. Her psychic skills were always impressive, apparently, compared to other Time Lords. She didn’t know how so until she got a test for it. And why wouldn’t she keep a TARDIS she rightfully earned, anyways?

Two(2) faces ago… Two faces ago she didn’t last long. The events surrounding David and Alex estranged her from her own surviving kids in a way she tried to swear wouldn’t happen when she was the parental figure. Her remaining kids wanted nothing to do with her. The Time Lords thought her dead, and when she could’ve received any summons to the Time War, she simply ignored them anyways. Eventually they went away— and when they came back she spent the majority of her regeneration in the chameleon arch under a fobwatch in a last ditch effort to avoid any chance of returning to her home planet, let alone one that was burning.  

One(1) face ago she began to reunite with Barbara and Ian Chesterton on Earth. This involved meeting their kid, Johnny, and taking Johnny around with her for a few trips and hang outs here and there. She was fine, definitely not still in a bad place after her kids and her husband all died, definitely not angry and sad because the rest of her children estranged themselves from her after David and Alex dying, definitely didn’t react as poorly as anyone might to their home being destroyed while they willingly hid, definitely didn’t try to die by inhibiting her regeneration on purpose hahahaa why would she do that? 

Face Number Five, Right here, right now she’s… Still freshly regenerated, for the most part. Definitely figuring herself out sometimes- most times. She’s often rather manic in this point in her regeneration, reckless, flighty and feels ever-so-slightly invincible after her coincidental survival. She’s bubbling over with life and energy and space where she wants to be. Earth is her home more than anything else, sometimes viewing humans as an anthropological study that she couldn’t put down to the point of entangling her life into them.

 Susan hops between hobbyist time travel and attempting to build some sort of, any sort of life of her own around the Chestertons. As she settled into this face, the more Barbara and Ian tried to encourage her to get a job, a steady career to give her something to do. Johnny encouraged it if only to help their friend build some sort of identity. 

She job hops. History and ghost walking tours were good fun and a way to show off, until people online started to realize she was giving tours in different countries in the same week. Real estate was completely dull. Working with plants was promising… Currently she resides as the lead art curator for a museum in London. It’s amazing, she has an incredible knack for finding mysteriously lost or otherwise stolen artworks. It’s great luck, knowing the right people at the right time. It would be silly for Ian or Barbara to even suggest time travel was involved in the slightest.

Susan 5 is here for a good time, not a long time. If you ask her, she clearly has regenerations to spare. Lives are less a dwindling resource and more a tool she can rely on when needed. She is figuring out her personhood, doesn’t exactly know who she is— but her name is Susan Foreman. And she’s new, she’s young, she’s fresh, she’s hot. Let’s see where this goes.

[tiffybutterball]

hello lesbians,

so i started talking to this gorgeous person who identifies as nonbinary and uses she/they pronouns. i love her and respect her pronouns but i hate having to describe my partner with the same ambiguity i used while i was in the closet, it feels like i am in a way back to the closet to call them my partner and use they pronouns when describing her to other people. it makes me euphoric to say words like “my girlfriend, my wife, the woman i love “ because younger me never thought i would get to the point where i would say these words. today, they suggested that they’re partner/husband and my heart sunk a little. i want to have this conversation with her but i don’t want them to think i am transphobic or i do not respect her gender identity, i know it is important to her. it’s just been a long journey getting to the point where i can fully accept my sexuality as lesbian, and in a way, my gender is also lesbian. growing up i was always told i wasn’t girly enough and seeing my peers during adolescence made me feel like i wasn’t woman enough. but after a very heartbreaking summer 2019 and interacting with butch lesbians on tumblr, dykes and reading popular literature like andrea dworkin, i have accepted that there is no wrong way for me to be female, and that being loved by and loving women in a lesbian way is liberating. i feel like accepting that i was a lesbian was divided into two parts, first i realized i liked women, even before i was 10 years old. but that was not as tragic as the realization that i would never be able to conform to heterosexuality in any way, that i have no sexual or romantic interest in men. i didn’t fully accept that part of myself until 2 years ago, and it feels like betrayal to 16 year old me when i feel like i have to reject that aspect of me.

their gender identity is important to me, but my relationship to my sexuality is also important to me, and i don’t see how i can reconcile the two except we keep them both separate. i have never had to teach myself to fall in love with describing my friends as he or she or they because i was never particularly socialized into having a certain gender as friends, and that the other option is an abomination. but i have had to do that when imagining myself in future romantic situations, i have had to get comfortable with the idea of describing my partner as “she, my girlfriend, my wife, my woman”. i have had to unlearn the guilt i feel when i imagine a future with women and i’m finally at the point where i love how much i love women, and how normal it is that i only love women, and i don’t want to get used to not having this feeling.

[wyrdify]

7 Things to Know About Kai

This post has been in my head on and off for the past few days, so I’m going to type it up to get it out. It’s sort of a “get to know the mun” thing, I guess, and it’s catered specifically to who I am as an RPer.

1. My physical and mental health comes first. I go to bed somewhere around 10-11PM Eastern Time every night for the sake of my health, and I try not to push that. I have epilepsy, and lack of sleep is one of those things that lowers the seizure threshold. I’m not staying up late to write replies. As for my mental health, I need breaks from the internet, and I am not going to be available 24/7. Expecting that of anyone is absurd.

2. I write my replies at my own pace. I refuse to be rushed. If I’m feeling a particular reply, then I’m going to write it. If I’m not, then I’m not going to push it. I want to have fun while I’m RPing, and I want to give my RP partners my best writing. This is a hobby of mine, not something I am paid to do. I give the same grace to my partners. I will never rush you. Ever.

3. I am neurodivergent. Professionally, I’ve been diagnosed with bipolar 2, OCD (with trich and derm), and generalized anxiety. I hypothesize I also have autism, but it has not been diagnosed. This means that I can hit highs with hypomania, making me super productive, super talkative, or super unable to focus. It means I can hit awful lows with depression, which causes me to disappear and stop talking to people for days at a time. It means I feel compelled to do things in particular ways to stop my brain from screaming. It means I have a tendency to take things you say to me very literally. It’s a mix.

4. I am queer. Specifically, I am asexual, gray aromantic, and nonbinary. All of my muses are queer in some way, shape, or form. I don’t have any interest in RPing with RPers who are queerphobic. I already have to hide my identity in parts of my personal life, so I’d rather not do it here. This is a queer-friendly space.

5. My English isn’t perfect. I make typos. I forget words. I use the wrong words. I make grammatical errors. Hell, I make up words from time to time, according to Google, and I will intentionally write fragments as a stylistic choice. I don’t like elitism when it comes to writing in English, especially when there are so many dialects, styles, et cetera. I give my partners my best writing, but I will make errors. English is hard enough for us native speakers, never mind those of you who learn it as another language. Let’s give each other some grace, all right?

6. I have squicks/triggers. There are topics I can write, but I need to mentally prepare for them, or I need a warning in advance that they’re coming. There are other topics that I will not write due to my comfort levels. Period. This tends to be why I plot things out with my partners. I want to avoid setting myself off, and I want to make sure my partners are comfortable as well. It definitely makes for the best RPing experience.

7. I have a life outside of RPing. I have hobbies I like to partake in. I have a husband, cats, and friends who I like to hang out with from time to time. This pings back to the first point I wrote. I need breaks from the internet to do other things I enjoy. I can’t write 24/7, and I can’t be available to everyone 24/7, especially as an introvert. Forcing me into conversation all of the time is one excellent way to get me to shut down on you.

These are my basic boundaries. I may add to this later, but yeah. I know this is basically what’s in my rules, but I like putting it here too in more of a paragraph form. Plus, this is one of those OCD “I’m compelled to do this thing, so I gotta” things. It’s annoying.

If you’ve read all this, thanks! It means a lot.

[davekatzdefensesquad]

TW: CHILD ABUSE, CHEATING.

SPOILER ALERT FOR SEX EDUCATION S3

So, the new season of sex education is odd.

Viv has an older bf, most likely in college. Maeve also has a relationship with a guy who's a few years older. They're in high school... just bc girls think they want a guy not in high school doesn't mean they should actually glorify that in things. Also, how old was the guy that Eric hooked up with? He had to know Eric was a teenager.

Don't even get me started on the "idk why I cheated but I had fun anyway" storyline for a gay character. I'm sure no one who's homophobic will feel reassured in their belief that gay people can't be monogamous.

We were supposed to believe that Eric had to fear being hurt by Adam, and yet here we are, once again, in a show that's "inclusive," showing us that writers are still very out of touch.

Also, no one arrested Hope for locking a child up in a room or any forms of child abuse? She just gets to go on trying to have a baby that she could also abuse? There's no way I could have held my tongue if I saw her in the hospital filling out ivf forms.

"I thought you hated kids. You really should think this through..." a baby is hardly going to save her marriage.

Eric blaming Adam for the path he's on in discovering and being comfortable with himself was icky. We don't all feel safe in our environments. He should have understood that after going to Nigeria and feeling like he was about to be harmed in an uber for making one gay joke.

Things I loved:

• Maureen not taking back her husband just bc she's lonely and accepting her son

• maureen and aimee getting goat out of the house they sort of broke into but actually had permission to be at

• aimee finally breaking up with Steve even though they loved each other bc she knows he deserves to be treated better. I hope they stay friends.

• labia acceptance bc I have a hard time with this one and I'm 31.

• aliens possibly flying by and lily's wave to them.

• my love/hate for rahim and adam getting closer. I know they're going to make that happen and I don't feel bad for Eric whatsoever.

• Eric being an amazing friend to Otis, and vice versa for hyping up his buddy for possibly getting some even though he didn't like Adam yet.

• all the fighting, while harsh, was realistic of how kids with underdeveloped brains treat each other.

• people talking about their feelings!!!

• nonbinary representation. Cal deserves the best.

• Adam's mom and teacher being supportive besties of a child trying really hard to unlearn years of abuse by doing something he enjoys

• the judges still giving adam a shout out bc he's a kid and they're not monsters.

• Jean not dying and letting Ola name the baby

• redemption arc for a much older character also trying to unlearn abuse and getting rid of toxic family in order to better himself