ultimately i think my insistence on aro positivity honestly is as much a political stance as a personal one.
when i say aro positivity is crucial and that i dislike doomer-ist posts that express sentiments like 'I hate being aro so much I wish I was dead instead’ it's not because I don’t think there can and should be a space for negativity and acknowledging self-hate, or the many ways being aromantic can really suck sometimes. i find that to be very important!
that being said. there is smth here about how self-hate posts are sometimes just arophobia that we inflict on ourselves. and when we put that out into the ether it (intentionally or not) can become arophobia that we inflict on other members of the community. i think there absolutely needs to be a place for negativity and the expression of anger and frustration and self loathing even - these are all good things to talk about because these are things that we experience. that being said, it can also be genuinely upsetting and triggering to people to have what is essentially arophobia shown to them and then have that be validated by other aspec people. your personal thoughts can affect your wider community on a level you may not anticipate. and i understand it i truly do! it took me so long to be able to recover from accepting being aroace - it threw my entire world off kilter and made me question everything about my place in the world.
but my insistence on aro joy and positivity is because ultimately i do believe that building is at the core essence of it all. that ultimately discussions and the purpose of community should be about construction, not destruction. and this is both a personal and a political stance. talking about how much you hate yourself and cultivating online discussions/spaces where negativity about aspec identity is the main and only theme is destructive - if that’s where we let the conversation end. these thoughts can and should be used as a vehicle to look for a path forward!
joy and positivity create a space where the focus can become on forging a path forward, on construction, on community building instead of tearing ourselves and others down with negative thoughts. it’s not productive or healthy when it stops at a place of negativity - it becomes actively destructive to the essence of community.
and i do think that this is especially poignant considering the fact that being any kind of queer, but especially aromantic (and/or asexual) means forging a path for yourself and making your own happiness where there is no obvious way forward. our communities exist mostly online (right now, anyway), there is little recognition of our existence in the real world, the effects of amatonormativity are both pervasive and actively dehumanising, and there are legal, economic and social structures in place actively making our lives more difficult. yes that all sucks! it’s good to acknowledge that. we need to in order to change it. but more importantly, that’s not the end. we are still here and our happiness, our future is for us to determine. even if we can’t change the laws or society, loving yourself and understanding aromanticism as a political identity (as well as personal), as a radical worldview, and as a protest against amatonormativity is essential for both community and personal well being. the personal is political.
tldr. i guess my point is that as a community, we should focus on building, improving, and nurturing ourselves and each other (construction) as opposed to destruction. we should recognise aromanticism and asexuality as political identities as well as personal ones and rely on community and self-love in the absence of anything else as a form of protest and political power. destruction (the recognition of everything that is wrong) is essential as a starting point - but where do we go from there? we rebuild.
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"This is so exciting! I've never had a sleepover before!"
Kalim is practically glowing, even among the darkened shadows of his bedroom. The moon itself seems to be drawn to him, lighting up the red of his eyes and white of his teeth. His hair shines like the finest of silks while his skin looks like it might feel as such.
He's the picture of affluence and care lying underneath his all too expensive sheets. And you're just sort of there, with him, in his bed.
What started out as a nonconsensual sleepover has since morphed into a consensual, nonconsensual sleepover. Being held captive in Scarabia certainly wasn’t originally part of your winter vacation plans, but neither was dimension hopping. And look at you now. A dimension hopper and a Scarabia captive.
Much like dimension hopping, Kalim is an unstoppable, otherworldly force to be reckoned with. He had been so welcoming when you first met. Pulling you this way and that, giving you food to try and games to play. Smiling so wide it put the sun to shame. Showing you the sky like no one else ever had before. Until something had changed and you found yourself in the shadow of an elephant as it marched you and the rest of the dorm through a desert. Trying your best to stave off heat exhaustion.
You have your theories, of course you did. You don't stop three overblots and not see the signs. But there's something more to this. Call you paranoid but you kind of had the right to be. There was something more to Kalim's situation than what Jamil said it was.
Now, you could help, like you always do. But Grim was insistent, and you could still remember your struggle under the blaze of heat. Besides, it was better to regroup and save face than rush headlong into things with just a feeling to guide you.
You planned to escape in the night when Kalim would be asleep. So call you surprised when he came to you with panic set deep into the usually cheerful lines of his face. And against all greater judgement, you knew you'd hear him out right then and there.
Which brings you to the now, laying side by side with him in his bed. Hoping that Jamil never finds out you’re here. Else you’ll probably never wake up to see tomorrow.
“Do siblings count?”
“Huh?” You blink back to yourself and meet Kalim’s questioning gaze.
“Does it count if you have sleepovers with your siblings? Cause I’ve definitely done that before!”
Kalim grins and it’s all teeth, like usual. Your chest tightens like you’ve just seen the cutest animal on planet earth— wonderland.
You knew right then and there that you’d probably never be able to say no to this boy. Well, in this moment, that is.
“It counts as long as you say it does.”
“Hmm,” he seems to think on that. Pursing his lips, eyes downturned. “Well, in that case, I don’t want it to.”
“What?” Your expression pinches and you choose to ignore the brief flare of anxiety in your chest. “You don’t want it to?”
“Yeah,” he gazes back up with a new twinkle in his eyes. “Cause I want my first sleepover to be with you, Prefect!”
…Oh god, you’re gonna have a heart attack from goodness overload. Tell Crowley to prepare you one of those emo coffins.
"Prefect?"
"Yeah, I'm good." Your voice is muffled where it's squashed into a pillow. You feel like you've just eaten a lemon with the way your face is currently squeezed up and contorted. "Thanks Kalim, means a lot."
"Nya hah hah! You're so funny." Kalim pats your shoulder as he laughs.
When you're certain you're no longer choking on his purity and looking like you're two steps past constipated, you chance a look up. Kalim is smiling, soft and relaxed, like he should be. You almost don't want to break the peace, but he asked you to come here for a reason.
"Um, you mentioned something in the hall. Something about your memory?"
His expression drops and your stomach soon follows. You're already mentally kicking yourself before he responds.
"Yeah, it's..." He seems to shrink in on himself, curling over on his side and drawing his knees up. "It might just be nothing, ya know? I might just be overreacting about the whole thing, so don't worry about it, Prefect. Really, I'm fine—"
You reach out before you can think better of it, taking his hand in yours. It's warm and soft, just like silk, like you thought it might. The action shocks him and you very nearly pull back when the realization of what you did dawns on you. Then his fingers close around yours in a grip that makes your heart lurch.
"It's obviously not nothing." You squeeze his hand, hoping to communicate all that you wouldn't be able to. "You... You don't seem very ok, Kalim. What's wrong?"
His lip quivers and that's all the warning you get before pearlescent tears are spilling down his cheeks.
He hiccups, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be crying. It's not worth it, but..."
It only takes one shuddering sob for you to pull him close. You clutch him to your front, letting his misery muffle itself into your shoulder. You keep hold of his hand while you cradle the back of his head in the other, mainly because his grip has turned something fierce. Like he's scared to let go of you.
You don't say anything, just let him cry into your shirt. Feeling his tears dampen the fabric, his body shake against you. Holding him as tightly as you can until he raises his head enough to be heard.
"T-There are spots," he begins, "in my memories, that are gone..."
"Gone?" The confession is beyond what you thought it'd be, but you're used to that after being at Nightraven for this long. "Gone how?"
"I don't know." He sounds miserable and it breaks your heart even more. "But I just can't remember what I do sometimes."
"Which is normal! Y-You normally don't remember what you have for breakfast the day before o-or, what you did three days ago." He sniffles and you realize his arm has wrapped around you. He's currently clenching the fabric of your shirt in a shaky fist at your lower back.
"But," he goes quiet. In an effort to encourage him, you soothe a hand down his back. Hesitantly at first but growing in confidence when he starts to untense just the slightest. "It's like I blink and... I'm no longer where I was. I wake up, go to breakfast, blink, and then it's dinner."
"I-I mean, a few days ago, we were having so much fun. But then, even you..!" His words break over a strangled whimper and he clutches you ever so tighter.
"Me what? What did I do, Kalim?" There is dread building in your gut. Whether it's for you or for him doesn't matter, you just want it to stop. "If I hurt you, I'm so sorry. I—"
"You were scared of me! I saw it!" The admittance flies from his lips and all but strikes you. "You looked at me like they all do! Like I'm a step away from exploding! Even now I can tell you're scared and I hate it! I don't want to hurt you, I don't want to hurt anyone! But what if I... am? W-What if I'm hurting everyone and I don't even remember it? I'd never forgive myself if I was h-hurting my friends. A-And I know I'd never want to b-but, the more you all look at me like... like t-that, the more I start to think that I am. That I'm a bad person—"
"It's ok."
He's gasping for breath, coughing around the build up in his throat. He holds you rigidly, gripping your hand so hard your bones are starting to protest but you'd never dream of telling him to let up.
"It's alright, it'll be ok."
You never did stop the motion of your hand. It continues to drag up and down the line of his spine. Feeling his shoulders jerk with every sharp intake. Wishing more than anything that you could wipe away the pain from his trembling form. Wanting to give him the same warmth he gave you on that carpet in the sky.
"We'll figure it out, Kalim, I promise."
You're not certain of a lot of things, not since you'd been dragged here. To this world, this school, this dorm. But in this moment, you are.
"It's not your fault. You're not a bad person."
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