#people would literally take pics with my two co-workers and i was just standing by behind them like a fucking moron

[davinaclare]

you know how i said in an older post that i probably deleted how it wasn't worth it to feel this amount of stress and anxiety to go to a dinner party where i would probably get ignored the whole night anyway? yeah... i was right. i could have dropped dead at any point and nobody would have noticed. expect my "friend" who kept leaving me her purse. i love being a coat hanger.

[lizk77]

Ten Years

This was actually originally posted on facebook around the end of the year. It began with my need to share my experience with others. I saw a few of those ‘10 years ago’ posts where people post a pic from back then and a recent one side by side. I tried that and realized I don’t really look much different. But the last decade of my life has certainly been the most meaningful of my life. This is very personal and discusses physical, mental and emotional abuse so if that’s a sensitive subject for you please don’t read. This is why I’ve been absent from tumblr and writing for so long.

I would also say this is not appropriate for anyone under the age of 18 due to adult themes.

It’s been 10 years. A decade. The most difficult yet meaningful decade of my life. When I think back to the person I was 10 years ago, I am amazed by the woman I’ve become today. I stand here at the end of the most difficult decade of my life and I’m proud. Proud of what I’ve accomplished, my strength and everything I’ve learned.

I began this decade feeling nearly suffocated by grief. I was no stranger to grief, but the loss of my mother was like the spiritual and emotional equivalent of having the wind knocked out of you. Pure, utter devastation. I was overwhelmed by my feelings. The whole world felt like a strange, scary place without my mother in it. In the months preceding her death I had tunnel vision, I focused on taking care of her and Emily and didn’t allow myself time to feel anything. So even though I knew she was dying, it didn’t really hit home until after she was gone. I instantly regretted that I didn’t focus more on enjoying my mother’s last months on this earth. I carry that regret with me still today. I should’ve had her teach me how to make her spaghetti sauce. I should’ve written down the recipe for parsley potatoes that she showed me how to make once but I haven’t been able to duplicate since. I should’ve asked her questions. Questions about my grandparents, about my dad, about when I was a baby. I should’ve had her French braid my hair every night. I miss that the most. I should’ve asked her how to be a good mother. What to do when my child is up at 3am puking down the hallway, all over the bed and the carpet. If I should take my kid to the hospital when she has something stuck up her nose, or how high of a fever is cause for alarm. There have been countless instances over the past decade where I would have given anything to be able to call her for guidance and support.

Grief has been the overwhelming emotion guiding me the past 10 years. I’ve learned that grief never ends. It changes, at first the feeling of loss is so raw that you just don’t know how you’ll ever be the same again. Then, over time, it evolves into every emotion. Grief can be happiness, sadness, anger and frustration. It can encompass all emotions at once. There are times even now when I just feel the loss of her all over again and in that moment I’m devastated all over again. I struggled with a lot of things after my mother’s death. I am still struggling with my faith. I have been angry at God for the past decade, so angry that I have neglected the spiritual well-being of my children. I have yet to figure out how to let that go.

I’ve always considered myself to be a strong, independent person. Life made me that way. I’ve experienced enough death, enough pain, enough abuse. Not long after the death of my mother, I was lured into a relationship that provided security. Financial security, which I had never had before. But I lost my strength. For 7 years I allowed my strength and independence to be stripped away. I was broken, ashamed, nobody knew what I was going through. Hell, I didn’t even realize the full extent of it. I was blind to the damage being caused not just to me, but to my children. I told myself our security was more important than our happiness. I realized after a while that I was wrong, but by then I didn’t know how to get out. I was afraid of losing everything.

Then it happened. The one thing I always said I would never tolerate. And yet, I found myself wishing it would happen. Because then I would have a reason. I watched my mother suffer the effects of physical abuse many times while I was a teenager. I vowed that I’d never let that happen to me. But once I was tangled in the web of my own abusive relationship, I began to realize that there are types of abuse that far surpass the physical. Bruises, cuts, even broken bones eventually heal. And it’s so easy to say, “He hit her? What a monster!” The abuse is very evident. But when you’re subjected to the whims of a narcissist, it’s very different. Everybody thinks they’re such a nice guy. They project an image of being loving and caring and happy. But the truth is they are even more of a monster than the guy who beats his wife. For seven years, I merely existed in his world. I tried as hard as I could to give him what he wanted and make him happy. Nothing I did was ever good enough. My daughters and I walked around our house on eggshells, not wanting to poke the sleeping giant. I tried to be the peacekeeper. Tried my best to keep his anger focused on me and not my girls. I told myself I could take it as he backed me into the bathroom, up against the shower wall, screaming at me with his face inches from mine. Spit flying everywhere. He called me worthless, accused me of cheating, told me I didn’t care about my children or the home we built for them.

And I stayed. Because I didn’t know how to leave. I didn’t think I could take care of my home and children on my own. I wasn’t strong enough. I was weak. I wasn’t good enough. After all, that’s what he had told me for 7 years. The day after one of our fights was always surreal. He acted like it never happened. Told me he loved me and he just needed to get his anger out or he’d explode. Like berating me and breaking me down was no big deal. And I would stand there in front of him, bewildered. Amazed by how really fucked up he was. But I stayed. I kept the peace and I stayed.

Until that night. When he hit me, it was like he knocked some sense into me. I remember the look on my daughter’s face after it happened. Tears welled up in my eyes as my baby looked at me with concern and asked if I was ok. I was not ok. Not at all. I saw myself in the face of my baby, saw the concern I felt for my mother all those years. And I drew strength from it. My mom would have been devastated to know what my life was like. I was her strong child, yet here I was broken and weak. I couldn’t let the same cycle repeat itself. I couldn’t let my kids grow up watching their mother being treated badly. I knew that if she were still alive, I would’ve gotten out sooner. She would’ve seen right through him. She would’ve known he was evil and I was miserable. She always did. She always knew. I used to hate that she was always right about my life and my feelings. But now that she’s gone, I truly miss her ability to tell me what’s wrong with my life. She always had a way of calling me out on my bad decisions. And she was the only one I listened too. The only opinion that really mattered.

So I decided to make a change. I called the cops and had him arrested. Then I went the very next day and filed an injunction for protection from abuse. He was gone. My oldest was already with her dad and my youngest went up north to stay with my aunt for awhile. I had two uninterrupted months to find myself again. I picked up the broken pieces of my life and focused on me. I spent time with friends. I went on dates. I lost a bunch of weight. I went out and experienced life beyond my couch. Gradually I began to feel like myself again. I regained my strength. But I also found myself grieving, once again. Despite everything I had been through, I missed my family. I worked hard for 7 years to build a life and it was gone. Of course I didn’t miss the abusive part of my relationship. But there were some things I missed. The feel of someone next to me in bed at night. Having someone to talk to about my day. Despite my decision to stay single and raise my daughters on my own, I found myself lonely at times. Sure I had been out on dates, but I told everyone up front that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I just wanted to keep things casual. Once you tell a guy that there’s really no way to take it back. Plus I had so much baggage. And I’m not talking about my kids. I’m talking about emotional baggage. I was a mess. I faked confidence that I didn’t have. Sure I was getting stronger, but healing takes time. How do you tell someone you just met that you just suffered through 7 years of narcissistic abuse? Without them thinking you’re totally crazy? You don’t. So I held it back. I tried to push it to the back of my mind and forget it was there.

It didn’t work. I decided to try something different. I talked about it. To everyone. Literally. Friends, co-workers, family, dates. Reactions were mixed. Most people were really supportive. Some were not. A lot of people just faded into the woodwork of my life at this point. They stopped texting me and returning my calls. I was upset by this at first, but soon discovered that letting it out was like lifting a huge weight off my shoulders. It was helping me heal. I was growing stronger each day. I have to thank each and every person who listened, even if they had a negative reaction. My healing was much quicker because I let all those feelings go rather than bottle them up. I know, crazy, right? Here I am, the cold-hearted one who buries their feelings deep down, sharing all my feelings with pretty much anyone who would listen. And something amazing happened. I started to smile more. I opened up to people. I started being honest and upfront with people about my feelings. Sure, I’m still hurting and healing, but I really feel transformed. I struggle, I have stress and anxiety, mostly about my children and finances. But I am happy. I am confident again. I know I’m a good person and learning how to let go of all the bad feelings and negativity created by my situation. Some days are good, some days aren’t. Some days I feel strong and on top of the world. Others I feel weak and broken. But the most important thing I’ve learned in the past decade is how to pick myself back up, dust myself off and rise above.

I don’t know what the next decade has in store for me. I know I will continue to focus on my inner growth and raising my children. I will figure out how to be happy and how to struggle less. I will also focus on developing honest and loving relationships with the people I care about. Respect and loyalty and communication are my top priority. My focus has to be me and my children. We come first. I refuse to allow any of us to be mistreated or abused. I will settle for nothing less and surround my family with people who are genuine and who care. This is my goal for the next ten years.

It will be the best years of my life.

Tagging: @allaboutchoices @innerpostmentality @bobasheebaby @sirbeepsalot @darley1101 @desiree---1986

I’m tagging just a few people I know. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to read or reblog.

[flowery-mess]

Slap | ethan dolan

Another shopping date with your best friend, was what you thought this morning. But if you only knew what was waiting for you.

‘Be there in 10’ was message from your best friend that just popped up on your phone.

You were really excited to see her again since she’s been travelling around the world with her boyfriend. She was away for 5 months and as you think about it now, you don’t know how could you survive that long without her. You know each other since forever and you’re sure that she’s the person you can tell anything and she will keep it a secret. She came back from Bali this Friday and immediately made plans with you for the next day.

You both wanted and needed your day off together just to tell the other one what she missed and what was on your heart.

You were already ready for her to pick you up, wearing a nice red overall, curled hair and lipstick matching your outfit. You went to put your shoes on, made sure that your iron is off and happily left your place.

You didn’t know you were holding your feelings in until you saw her car and her standing next to it. You run to her and started screaming, just like she did. If someone saw you, they probably thought you’re two freaks, jumping and hugging each other like crazy. And you were. Crazy happy that your best friend is finally in the town and you can hug her after those looong five months.

“Oh my god Y/N! You look so hot!” she looked you up and down and lost her words on how good you looked.

“Stop saying that you know I hate compliments!” you said while the red color made it’s way to your cheeks. It’s true, you don’t know how to accept or give compliments. You turn into weird ball of ‘thanks’ and weird smile. “And look at you huh?! You look amazing.” You looked her up and down just like she did few moments ago, but she did look amazing for real. Her skin was kissed by the sun just right, her hair shortened a little and her skin was glowing. You should probably go on the next trip with her if you would look that good when you come back.

“Okay, enough. We both look amazing and blah blah blah. Let’s goooo I want to hear everything I missed in your life.” She literally threw you in her car and run to the driver side.

As she started driving, she asked you the question. What is ‘the question’ you ask? Let me tell you, it’s the question about boyfriend. The usual ‘So is there any boy I should know about in your life?’ or ‘So did you find a boyfriend finally?’ or ‘Tell me about your love life!’ etc etc.

You rolled your eyes, because you were annoyed of how often people ask you this question. Your mum, your grandma, your co-workers or even your little cousin who found a boyfriend in her kindergarten class.

“Nothing interesting.” Was what she got as answer.

“Oh come on Y/N, there must be something. At least some one night stands?”

“You mean me being drunk as hell and sleeping with someone I knew for a half hour? Yeah few of them, but I think I don’t like that anymore. I want something more serious.” You sighed and looked out of the window.

“Well, let’s find you someone today. You look amazing so it will be easy.” You always admired her positivity. She was always excited about the smallest things. And yeah, she found you a few ‘boyfriends’ but it never lasted for long so you didn’t take her words seriously.

After walking through the whole mall and dealing with your friend desperately trying to find you a boyfriend, coffee was exactly what you needed. But let me tell a few stories from today. The one when she made you to put on a t-shirt with a half of heart, you thinking it was some best friend type of t-shirt, but then she came to this random boy and said ‘Hey handsome. Why don’t you try this on and let me find you the other half?’. Good for her that you were still in the changing room and didn’t kick her head off. Or when she asked for a number from a guy who’s girlfriend was looking for her size just two metres away? Amazing.

“Okay that’s enough. It’s probably my destiny, to be alone. Maybe grow old with a few cats in a cabin in the middle of the woods.” It was a joke, but you didn’t have energy to laugh after this day.

“Oh shut up you know that I won’t let that happen. We will find you a Prince Charming one day, maybe it’s not the right time now.”

“Yeah I guess.” You mumbled in a response. “Let’s just get a coffee and a cake now please.”

So you did exactly that and when you were looking for a place to sit? Your luck showed again and left you the biggest table at the coffee shop possible.

“Let’s just drink our coffee and then go home and watch some movies.” Your friend said, because she could sense that you were getting little angry after this whole day.

So you slowly drank your drinks and made a small talk about her travelling.

She was in the middle of telling you how the nature in Iceland is when someone interrupted you.

“Hi, um, I am sorry but do you have two seats free? There isn’t any free table. If you wouldn’t mind of course.” A good looking boy with brown hair and hazel eyes asked you. An then it hit you. Ethan Dolan. And Grayson Dolan just right next to him. It seemed like your friend noticed too because of her freeze, but she was always the good one with boys so she took it in her own hands.

“Of course we don’t mind. Feel free to sit with us.” She said with a smile on her face.

Both of them smiled right back at you and said thanks. The table was really big, so even though you were sitting together, you didn’t bump into each other or heard what they are talking about. So you two just continued talking about the Icelandic nature.

But after few minutes three girls came to your table, well to the side where the twins were sitting. Fans, you thought, asking for pictures, not a big deal. But that was until you heard “Would you mind taking your shirt off for the picture?” when you heard that, you couldn’t help but spat your drink back in the mug and said simple “Excuse me?”

Do I need to say that the six pairs of eyes were looking right at you?

“Excuse you? Who are you?” the same girl asked.

“I’m sorry, but don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate and embarrassing?”

“Well I didn’t ask you so why do you care?” you could that everyone was feeling uncomfortable right at the moment.

“Well I am sorry, but he’s not taking his shirt off.” You pointed at Ethan, but stared back at her.

“And who do you think you are to say what he can and can’t do?” it was visible that she was getting mad, but so were you.

“Because obviously he’s feeling uncomfortable even hearing the question and probably didn’t want to turn you off, so did I.”

“Calm down you big smart mouth.” She rolled her eyes at you and that was a mistake of hers.

BOOM. You didn’t even have time to stop yourself, but you did it. You slapped her. It seemed like a slowmootion when you looked at her covering her face and then your right hand. What in the hell did you just do?

“Okay that’s enough, let’s go.” You heard male voice say, while you put your hands over your mouth.

Then you felt strong arms take you by your waist and lead you away.

“What the hell Y/N? I didn’t know you’re that bad ass!” You heard your friend’s voice following you, as those strong arms were still placed on your waist.

You stopped at the parking lot, finally turning around to see three people staring at you.

“I-“ you didn’t know what to say. You really didn’t.

“I’m sorry?” you managed to say after few deep breaths.

“For what? For standing up for me? Thank you.” Ethan said with a laugh in his voice, because let’s be honest, it was kind of funny moment. You felt his strong arms around you once again when he hugged you.

“Okay, then you’re welcome I guess.” You hugged him back and finally laughed at the situation that happened while ago.

“Can I buy you another coffee? I mean both of you, we dragged you here and you probably didn’t finish your drink.” Ethan said and looked at his twin who just nodded in agreement.

“I actually have something in like few minutes. I forgot to tell you that I have to look after my neighbour’s kid tonight. They’re going out for a dinner.” Your friend said and you knew right away it was a lie.

“But-“ you tried to talk, but before you finished it, your friend slapped Grayson on his back and gave him a look, because he obviously didn’t see what she was trying to do. She saw Ethan looking at you like at someone who saved his life and she saw a chance of possible boyfriend. So after the slap, Grayson got the hint and tried to make some excuse that you would believe, because he knew Ethan could see what was he trying to do.

“And I have to go pick up my new shoes actually, so you can just go and grab some coffee by yourselves?” he said already walking away so neither of you had a chance to protest and your friend? Already gone.

“They are so bad at this. She doesn’t have neighbours with kid.” You said.

“Yeah, you can just say that they are stupid. Couldn’t make better excuses?” Ethan turned to face you. I mean, you both knew what they were doing. “But yeah I guess we can just grab some coffee by yourself what do you think?”

“I think that ice cream sounds better.” You smiled.

“Then ice cream it is.” Ethan said and opened the door to his car for you.

He took you to this nice cosy place where you had the best ice cream of your life. And you didn’t end up with one ice cream for sure.

You were sitting with a fifth ice cream on the hood of Ethan’s car when he said ‘Thank you’ for like a hundredth time today.

“I swear if you say it once more the ice cream will end up in your face.”

“Okay that sounds terrifying.” You both laughed. It actually surprised you how much in common you two had. He was nice and easy to talk to. You didn’t even notice that the sun was setting down because of how much you were caught in the conversation.

“I think I should take you home. It’s getting late.” He stated and jumped off the hood.

“Yeah.” You looked down at him , ready to jump down on his level, but his actions were faster. He picked you up by your waist and put you down. And didn’t let go off you. You stared in each others eyes for a minute before he spoke up again.

“I will get you home only if you promise me another ice cream date?”

“Well, only if you will take your shirt off.” You both couldn’t help the laugh escaping your lips.

“I will have to think about that.” He pulled you little bit closer, but watched your reaction if you don’t get uncomfortable, because that was something he didn’t want to for sure. “But for real now, can I take you on a date? I didn’t expect to meet you at all, but like, where were you my whole life?” you weren’t sure if he was trying to change the subject with the joke, but you knew you wanted to see this boy again.

“Yes.” Who could tell that this one word would put that big smile on Ethan Dolan’s face?

 So he drove you home, you exchanged numbers and he gave you a kiss on the cheek. Simple, but cute gesture.

“See you later Dolan.” You screamed at him walking towards the place you live in.

“Yeah. And make sure to take your shirt off next time I pick you up!” he screamed back and you just laughed at what he said. That was for sure something that became your inside joke.

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

So this one is for @matthwatsons and I hope you like it.

[theskyisneveralwaysblue]

The Long Mistake

I love you. I love you from the tips of your fingers through to the deepest part of your soul that no one else sees. I love the curve of your smile, your witty humour. I love the way you say my name, when you talk about our future and make me smile even if it’s for a small while. I love your tattoos, the bright colours on your tanned European skin. I love the way I have to stand on the tips of my toes to kiss you, I love when you hold me close and I feel your arms firm around me. I feel safe, my protector. You don’t like it when other guys are rude to me, you defend me before I hit back at my own accord. I love the way you laugh and sexily dance in the kitchen when you cook dinner and you look back at me like I’m the only girl in the room, physically I am. Digitally I am not.

We’ve all been there, even you reading this now. We’ve all dated someone who wasn’t right for us but we loved them regardless because we see past the shitty things we don’t want to see when we are in love. Maybe it’s just lust and we get stuck there for a while.

“Hindsight, it’s a wonderful thing”, someone said to me very recently. We had been talking for a week and we met on the beach. It was a hot afternoon, I can still smell the salty air. He was so quiet and I was so very inquisitive wanting to know everything about him. We started seeing each other on the regular, he would come to my place and have dinner and sleep the night; only two weeks in of fucking and he said “I love you”. I laughed because it was such a perpostorous thing to say to someone... when you’ve just had sex and in a short period of time. I laughed and I said “I think you’re just cunt struck”... romantic, I know. I didn’t love him, I was in lust. It took me longer to return the feeling. I was more cautious, the previous man in my life left me standing at the airport after I told him I loved him after six months of dating - that shit shattered me and it’s made me hard. I take other peoples feelings into consideration, ultimately I am protective of my own because I don’t want to be hurt, again. But this one is different.

I remember sitting there talking to my housemate saying things like; “I don’t think he really likes me”, “what if he doesn’t actually like me”, “Do you think he’s into me?”, “I don’t think he’s really into me”, “I don’t think we would last”, “I think he’s just going to treat me like every other male has so far and is going to fuck me and then run” - hindsight. My friend assured me “If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t be hanging around like he is, you just need to give him a chance”. I remember my eyes rolling into the back of my skull and saying “Yeah, righto, I’ll give him a chance”. I can’t be doubtful all my life.

The chance.

A couple of months in a friend messages me; “Are you still with him? Because he’s on Tinder? What’s happened?”, I think about it, he’s already told me he’s not on it. I confront him and he says he’s on it for a joke with a mate. Weird joke but okay. I accept it because I mean I struggle to take dating apps seriously. Eventually he asks me to move in with him, I did, I wanted to, I really like him. No I love him. We get into the rhythm of doing life together. He goes to work, I go to uni, we come home we watch a movie and eat dinner. We go to the strand on the weekends because I love the ocean and we like that quality time together when we’re both not working. Like any other normal night I go on the computer and I was so fucking tired - exhausted. He was working and I thought nothing of it. “Reload last session” - I reboot it. My eyes drooping while I get up to make my fourth coffee for the day so I can stay awake and work on my uni assessments because I had been researching earlier that day. I looked back at the computer with confusion, “This is not research”, I sat there and scrolled over the page - a webcam site. I’m confused and I look at all the tabs now open... all of them, webcam sites. I click on each one feeling my heart sink. Each one with a different name; “Omegle”, “Slut Roullette”, “Chaturbate” and several others I can’t remember the names of them. I remember seeing where the webcam should be connected and reading on the website “Your device has been blocked” Suddenly I’m awake. I message him “we need to talk when you get home”. I assess the dates and times of when he searched these sites and I look back at my diary to see where I was during these times. I carefully construct a collage of everything I’ve found - a literal power point presentation. Because I’m not going to approach a subject without proof. His Facebook is still wide open and I see a conversation between him and my co-worker’s boyfriend; “who’s tits in the background?” And his response “my mrs, ssshhh. I didn’t realise she was there”. I sit there staring at it for a bit and part of me felt frustrated; how could he be so wreckless and send a photo with me topless in the background. But I also decide against bringing it up because it’s just tits. I’ve been topless at parties before - but I guess back then I wasn’t as conservative as I am now, older and wiser that kinda thing. Whatever. I also find a conversation with him and some friends in a group chat “Oi I just got a blow job” followed by a detailed experience and I just kinda don’t think much of it because whatever. Guys are gonna talk to their mates and I suppose it’s the same for women? In my personal experience though I’ve only really talked about hook ups with guys to mates who were fucking shocking and a one off experience before I go AWOL on their ass.

He comes home after an all night shift and I’m sitting there at the table with my leg crossed over my other leg ready to begin a Spanish Inquisition. “What’s this?” I ask while staring at him for a direct answer. He sits down and he looks me in the eyes and he says “It’s a habit I had before I met you. I don’t know why I’m still doing it, I’ll stop”... I take a deep breath - how am I going to approach this. He’s 19 and hasn’t had a serious relationship before. I lay it out black and white and I say “Look, I get you’re young and you’re gonna go and look at weird shit on the internet because it’s a male thing and that’s fine, whatever, I don’t want to know about it. But I think it’s different if you’re on webcam sites as opposed to porn sites because you’re COMMUNICATING with other women therefore you have an intention”. He agrees that it doesn’t look good and says he’ll stop. A couple of weeks pass and we’re jokingly getting on each other’s phones and uploading Facebook status updates on each other’s accounts... I got on his phone and I noticed an app... Whatsapp... KIK... what’s this? I’ve never heard of it. I open them curiously and there it is in plain black and white... “got any pics?”... “I’m in the army”... “you’re cute”... he’s sent photos of himself, shirtless, naked, partially in uniform. I remember waiting for him to wake up from his nap. “Who the fuck is this?”, he looks at me confused “I don’t know”, “YOU DON’T KNOW? BUT YOU’VE SENT PHOTOS OF YOURSELF TO THEM? YOU’RE ASKING FOR PHOTOS OF THEM?”, he’s embarrassed, he calms me down and says “I’m sorry, this won’t happen again”.

The next time it happened I had been at work for five hours and my shift comes to an end, I pull my phone out of my bag and I have a message request on Facebook. I open it and see it’s some random girl from America messaging me, I open her message and it reads “Hey, I think this is your boyfriend?”, I open the photo sent to me from her and it’s his cock. I keep my calm and I say goodbye to my co-workers, I walk up the escalator and I get to the car, he’s sitting there waiting for me not ready for the shit storm I’m about to unleash as I rip the car door handle and the door flings open and he’s looking at me confused and I ask who she is. He sits there and tells me “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t know who you’re talking about?” - I shove my phone under his face and I can see the look of panic and the colour draining from his face. His eyes wide. I slam the door shut in his face as he leans across to say “I’m sorry” and I run down the stairwell with my eyes red, tears flooding down my face. I get myself together after 20mins and find him still there. In the parked space. Waiting for me. I come back and get in the car and we go home. I walk ahead and get inside and I start to pack my things. Apologies upon apologies “I love you, I won’t do it again”. The next day he brings me a bouquet of roses to me at work telling me he loves me. This is the second time in my life I have ever received flowers from a guy. I accept them but there’s this sadness. I’m slowly starting to pick myself apart physically, I don’t think I’m attractive and that’s why he does it.

Things calm down and I don’t notice any odd behaviour. We move house and it gets worse. I catch him on KIK and Whatsapp another time and it starts to feel like collateral damage. I’m now sliding into depression. “Why does he keep doing it?”, “Am I a hard person to love?”, “Maybe I’m just the girl guys fuck and then move on to find the love of their life because that’s how it feels”. He goes on an exercise to Malaysia and I wait. I wake up in the early hours of the morning before he walks out the door and I hold him close. I don’t want him to go, I’m used to him being there. Everyday I sit by my phone. I want him to tell me he loves me. I want him to tell me he misses me. Nothing happens. I so desperately want him home but a small part of me starts to progress. I fuel myself with vegetables, chicken and water, I start going to the gym again. But emotionally I am exhausted. We start to fight. Oh how we fight. Fear has taken over me and I am terrified he is cheating on me. I don’t trust him, is he back on KIK? Is he back on Whatsapp? Suddenly... Why is his ex all the fucking way over there in the same fucking country near him and conveniently liking his photos on Instagram? - I confront him head on and he says “I don’t know, I haven’t seen her, she’s not near me”, “YeAh Ok”. The trust, it’s long gone. He tells me I’m being too much and breaks up with me via messenger while In a foreign country. I sit there and stare at it and I respond with “You can come home and say it to my face like a fucking adult”. I’m tired. Im physically sick. I’ve spent several hours vomiting in the bathroom with nothing to bring up. I’ve had two friends comfort me, one held me in their arms while I cried and cried and questioned “Why am I not good enough? Why does he always make me feel like this? Why am I always treated like a piece of shit by any male I date? Why is it always the same story?”. It’s late at night, he comes home from his exercise and holds me in his arms and this is where it really starts and he says “You turn everything into a fight and you pushed me to this point. I’m sorry, I love you, I won’t do it again”.

I struggle to be happy. Everything feels like it’s a lot of effort. Waking up in the mornings are hard and most nights I’m staring at my reflection in the mirror thinking about what life could be if he just cared because it sure felt like he didn’t. Being spoken to like I’m a piece of shit becomes routine I snap back and he tells me I’m putting him in a bad mood. But I still love him. I keep going, I persist. He said he would change, right? I catch him on KIK and Whatsapp again. This feels like the 600th time. Yet the conversation is the same. I get to the point where I am worn out; “Can we please just end this shit if you don’t want to be together because it’s killing me. You’re breaking my heart every time I catch you and you’re wasting my time”. He says he’ll stop and he still wants to be together. Of course I stick around because he said he would change and I love him and I’m clutching on to that ray of hope that he means it. I start to resent myself. I hate going out. I hate socialising. I keep my distance from male friends when we go out because I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. I’m too concerned to hang out with female friends because he starts asking me for threesomes with them and I keep saying no. Now I’m concerned he will try to fuck one of my friends so I keep my distance. Isolation.

We go out with his friends and their girlfriends are young and beautiful and I sit there resenting myself and I can see him looking at them. I see him looking at other girls when we are out - I know it’s a natural thing to do to look at someone else and admire them from afar when you’re in a relationship but this always felt like it was more, probably because I had already caught him multiple times messaging other girls. I pin myself into a corner and resent myself more for letting myself go. I feel hideous. I don’t feel good enough. He goes to his dental and physio appointments and tells me the nurses are into him. He pokes me for a reaction. He gets it. He starts to call me crazy.

He complains that he’s always broke and has no money, I tell him to apply for RA. He refuses to. I eventually do it for him because he asks me to, and a notification comes through to say that his payments for live on accomodation will be ceased... $213 a f/n. For three years he had been paying $213 a f/n while we were on a lease together for a room on base. RED FLAG RED FLAG ALARM BELLS. I ask him pointedly “Did you have a room on base you were bringing girls back to?” - “No I didn’t”. Logical me can see he was but I so desperately wanted to believe him. Frustrated me pointed out that the total wasted amount was close to a house deposit or a new car. I am mentally drained. My parents, my Aunty and a selected small handful of friends tell me to “stop parenting him”. “Stop being his mother”.

He goes away to see family on the Gold Coast and I’m anxious. I don’t trust him. Who is he really with down there? I call; “I’m just with dad doing this”, “ok”. I venture onto the computer now that he’s not here, he has 3 emails... I don’t know all of the passwords, so I’m a little crafty - I go to settings and venture in a little further and I reveal the passwords. I’m not completely stupid. I then begin to explore each email and I type in key words of alias names he’s used on chat sites, sure enough KIK and Whatsapp appear again. I type in key words like “dating” and “hookup” a website appears I start reading the email headings “Cinnamonxo has responded to your message”... I download the app, I click forgot password and I enter the email and I change the password on him. Because fuck him. I go into the app and I read the messages “are you available at 12.30pm?”, “blow job $50”. My eyes swell. Here we are back at square one. Where was at 12.30pm on that day? I look back at my diary - work. What am I doing. I call in floods of tears, here we go again to play the same game of him trying to lie his way out of a confrontation. Mentally I’m exhausted at this point. He says he didn’t follow through with it but I had already messaged her and received a response from her saying “I am so sorry, I had no idea he had a girlfriend, please know it was nothing personal, I’m just trying to earn some money” to which my response was “I know, I just wanted closure and confirmation, I’m not coming after you”. He came home and we fought. I wanted to know what he had really been doing down there on the coast because I didn’t trust him. He says just seeing family. Now I’m paranoid every time I go to work. This isn’t good. “what’s he doing? Who’s he with?”.

We make it through the years, there’s engagement parties, there’s weddings - these are friends I’ve had for years from my childhood. I ask him to come with me and be my date to functions and he says “No, I don’t want to go, just tell them I’m not feeling well” and he games for hours with headphones in. I go as my own date, my own rock, almost ready to have a mental break down. I just wanted a supportive boyfriend. The one engagement party we did go to he locked himself in the bathroom and bags out the night to a female friend who says “why go anyways”. They both swap photos of their bodies showing each other their tattoos and I’m agitated. The night is almost ruined for my friend and she yells at him to grow up and not to ruin her night, she takes me to the bathroom and comforts me. She asks me “what’s wrong?” And I cover his ass because I love him.

The conversations become the same. I start to see it for what it is and I start to want to break away. I tell him I think we aren’t working I ask him if anything is going to change and he promises it will. I’m defeated. We go out together and people can see it. They ask if I’m okay. I say “I’m fine”. Friends stop to talk to me at the shops and he walks away without saying anything or completely walks past and doesn’t stop to say hello. I’m wrestless and on edge and it’s a sick combination.

It’s my birthday and I’m turning 27, I have this overwhelming feeling I get when it’s my birthday. I always feel like I haven’t accomplished anything and I see all my friends engaged, married, kids, and in careers that they enjoy. I reflect a lot on my life and I know I shouldn’t compare it but I do. It’s even worse because I don’t feel loved. He’s asleep on the bed and I go onto the computer, I have a sinking feeling “What’s he done now? What am I going to find?”, I go into search history and I see the title “BBW Gives Blow Job”, I feel my eyes roll into the back of my head “won’t have sex with me but will go looking this shit up”, I grimace as I open it up. It takes me a moment to realise what I’m watching. His cock in some thing’s mouth. I feel like I’m going to be sick. I’m literally sitting there watching a homemade porno of him being deep throated by what I think is a male at first. I fly off the handle. He wakes up and is confused like he always is and I’m there yelling at him; “DID YOU FUCK A GUY?” my voice is loud and shrill and I’m almost certain the neighbours are listening. I’m distraught. I yell at him to get the fuck out of the house and to fuck off. I sit by the window and I watch him drive off, tears flowing down my eyes. I feel a deep sadness. Why do I keep putting myself through this. Why do I love him and why do I keep sticking around for someone like him. A friend calls me and comforts me. He comes home and we talk, I feel ready to punch a wall. He says he’s sorry and he cares and loves me and won’t do it again. I don’t know what to think. I know I should walk away but at the same time I think he means it.

I slowly start to reconnect with friends. I come forward and tell them what’s happening in our life, some of them cry and ask me why I’m still in the relationship and I say “because I love him and he said he wouldn’t do it again, and he would change”. Friends constantly tell me “He’s abusive as fuck, leave” and I let it ride out. I can only say I’ve had one positive relationship experience and even then he still left me. I just simply felt like this was all I would ever get in life, this would be the best relationship I would ever have and it would be the one I deserved. Because eventually he’ll change, right? Occasionally a male friend will message me and ask me how I am and he sees the messages and demands to know “do you want to fuck him?”... obviously I don’t because I’m in a relationship and I’m committed. There was so much he was projecting onto me from his own actions and I’m tired. I’m so old school, I don’t get in a relationship unless I want to be in it and then I’m in it for the long haul. I guess I was too proud and that’s why I wouldn’t walk away. I’m grabbing at the ropes and they’re sliding through my fingertips.

Weeks later again I find appointment times made during my work hours with prostitutes. We fight again. The neighbours are probably listening again and I’ve raised my voice for the I don’t know how many times in fucking pain. I blast him. I resent him. But I love him. He’ll change I know he will, because I love him and he told me he loved me and promised me again that he would. I call my Dad, a shrill of desperation in my voice as it breaks, he’s held me many times when I’ve broken down. He says “I taught you to walk away from men like this, I’ve always taught you better than this, you know this. Why are you still with him?” I sobbed and said “I love him”. My Dad reminded me “There is better out there and you will see it one day” I can hear his heart break through his voice when he talks to me. He just wants me to be happy. My Dad pulled him aside and told him to straighten up or leave. We always had the same conversation, I would always say “Please leave if you’re going to keep putting me through this shit because it fucking kills me, you’re wasting my time and breaking my heart” I feel like a broken record player at this point. And it was always the same response “You pushed me away, that’s why I did it, but I swear I won’t do it again, I’ll change, I love you”.

I was tired of being sex deprived a lot of the time, he rarely wanted to fuck me. Usually I’m a pocket rocket and will want to go every night but it was always the same “not tonight, I’m too tired”, “I’m not in the mood”, I was shafted aside for games and prostitutes. I asked the same questions throughout the relationship; “Is it because I’ve put on too much weight? Is it because I’m not fit like I was? Am I unattractive? Do you just not find me attractive anymore?” The response is always the same “No. You just fight with me all the time and it pushes me away and I go looking elsewhere, you need to see a psychologist, you need help. Everything with you is a fight”. It’s not. It’s the constant cycle of repetition. It’s the constant poor behaviour, me catching him out and being livid for weeks on end and then him pulling the same shit again. “You turn everything into a fight, you pushed me to this point, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again”. Humiliated I was booking appointments with doctors each time because I needed to be checked for STDs, thankfully nothing.

I was tired of being snapped at and spoken to like I’m trash, I retaliate and everything becomes my fault. I would be the joke. “She’s crazy” he would say to his friends in front of me while laughing but I had every right to be on the edge. He made me feel that way. I would threaten to speak up and he would panic - “I don’t want my friends to think any less of me, I don’t want to lose friends” he was conscious and well aware of his actions. He would look at old photos of me from when I was 18 and make comments like “I wish I fucked you when you were 18” and I would feel sick to the pit of my stomach, it must have been written on my face because he would back up his comment with “I’m just kidding”. The other comment was “I wish I had a girlfriend with tattoos” and I felt even more shitty because I felt like I wasn’t physically appealing enough.

I was so tired of constantly being the one that cleaned up. I did a lot in the relationship, a lot of background work, it comes with the territory of being the partner of a military man. Some days I would let the house go when he would be home because I thought “He’ll actually do something about it” and he wouldn’t. I would be stepping over dishes and becoming frustrated out of my fucking mind. His excuse was “I pay the bills therefore I don’t need to clean up” - like as if I didn’t put my fair share of effort in. So much pent up resentment. On nights he was coming home from field I would lay there in bed awake till late at night when he would come home and it didn’t matter if he smelt and looked like shit I still flung my arms around him and was always greeted with a grunt. It never overly felt reciprocated, but I also put it down to “he must feel stressed and tired”. Then for weeks on end I would stare at my reflection in the mirror with the light of his pc reflecting off of it while he was gaming and I would cry myself to sleep. He would tell me his parents thought I was crazy and that he had told them everything - which I highly doubt. I’m sure he told them I was nuts and I was clingy but I’m sure he skipped on all the details of him cheating on me constantly and telling me it was my fault why he did and why I had become so untrusting of him.

More weeks pass. I think we’re in a better place. I get on the computer and I’m curious; “Does he message girls on his gaming server?” I go looking. I guess the password. I’ve become good at this because everything is consistently the same. I’m not sure what the fuck this is. I’m not a gamer. I go looking through the channels, I have my quick eyes on and I’m skimming over conversations quickly. I finally find it “Hey, got any pics?” To three different “girls” and I have to sit there and say “you don’t know for sure if they’re actually women or what their ages are”. We play the same old game “You pushed me to this point, I’m sorry I won’t do it again”.

I never wanted to be this type of girlfriend. I never wanted to lurk around in his messages and be hurt time and time again. But it was the constant reasons he gave me to go looking. The look of panic on his face if I picked up his phone and hadn’t opened it. I knew then that something was there. Part of me would start to miss my ex prior to him, not miss him personally but miss the relationship we had. Sex every single night - but it never felt like a routine - always spontaneous, exercising together every afternoon, laughing together, watching movies together, going on dates, we never once looked at each other’s phones because we trusted each other, randomly slow dancing in the kitchen together, the feeling of being whole - people saw us together before we were dating and thought we were already together, we were 100% comfortable in each other’s company. I would compare it to what I had now in that moment and it would break me. I was constantly saying to him “Please do not waste anymore of my time, please let me move on. If we aren’t working can we please just end it” and he would always say “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again”. It was the same thing time and time again. I knew I always looked like a tired stressed mess. I would also start to think about every guy I had met and not given an opportunity to and I would feel like perhaps they would have been far more worthy of my time and love than this guy is - was.

For months he spends hours upon hours gaming and I’m ready to throw the computer off the balcony. I ask if we can do something “Can we go out?”, “Do you want to watch a movie?”, “Let’s go get dinner”, “let’s go see a movie” and the response was always the same “I’m tired, I don’t want to, I’ve already made plans with the boys you should have asked me yesterday”. And once he’s done gaming he runs out the door to spend time with them. We play happy family for social media, everyone thinks we are madly in love - at least they have it half right. I’m in love with him. He comes home we fight he goes to sleep on the couch and I blame myself for his shitty behaviour and I beg him to come back to bed.

For years I tell him everyday “I love you” before he leaves for work in the morning, before whenever I leave the house, before he leaves the house for anything, before he goes out field, when he’s having a shit day. I tell him I think he’s handsome almost every day. I’m grunted at or hear a “love you too” and it feels like an invisible bruise.

I go out to coffee with a friend and she’s introducing me to her baby, I love him - he cries and I put on Mozart and he’s out like a light - call me the baby whisperer. We’re friends from high school and we’ve known each other forever. She tells me I shouldn’t move, it’s a bad idea. Secretly I know it is too. I tell her I love him but if it doesn’t work at least I haven’t moved down there if I stay here a bit longer if he does something. She tells me she thinks he’s cruel, emotionally abusive and he’s wasting my time, silently I agree but I hold onto this tiny flame of hope that he will change. She says “You need a man, not a boy”.

The end of the year is coming and quickly and I have this streak of overwhelming anxiety because I know he’s moving. He’s posting away. We’ve agreed I’ll hang back till I can get a transfer with work or find something down there. I feel this burning sensation in the backs of my eyes for weeks. I desperately want to cry and beg him not to go but I know that will do nothing. He tells me “Don’t you cry”. He leaves and I’m watching out the window as he drives off with his dad in toe. Tears roll down my cheeks, deep down I have this feeling and it’s saying “He’s going to hurt you, he doesn’t love you. He’s going to leave you. He’s going to fuck another girl”. For two weeks I drink and then I start taking sleeping pills so I can knock myself out and have decent nights sleep, I’m too busy laying there staring at the ceiling if I don’t. I feel like I’m going crazy and I keep telling my friends “I don’t trust him, I’m so stressed out”.

The days they feel so much longer without him around. I’m trying my best. I’m still running errands, I’m holding down the fort, I’m feeding the dogs and taking them on walks, I’m bpaying all the bills on his behalf for him, I’m trying to call within the right times because of daylight savings. I call and he tells me “You need to ask me if you can call first, I’m busy”. Suspicions arise. “I shouldn’t have to, you’re on leave... I would if you were working but you’re not”. He lags in response to my messages and stops answering my calls. I can see him responding to friends messages and ignoring mine. I see him deleting messages to a friend and I question him - “You won’t like what he sends me”, I become aware and cautious. I’m hanging out with an old friend and I tell him, he asks me what my Facebook password is and I have nothing to hide. I pass it on. He tells me the next day he didn’t go into my messenger but I can see in my settings I’m logged into a Samsung S10 in Tamworth and I confront him. He says “that’s weird because I’m not” and I say “that’s weird because I don’t own a Samsung S10 and I’m not in Tamworth”.

I later go trawling through his messages and I see a message to his sister... “I’m sorry, I’m not coming to training this afternoon, I’m going to see a mate in Armidale, he’s posting away”... I message him and ask him what he’s doing and he says “having drinks with my sister”. I’m already very aware that this is a lie. I contact his dad because he doesn’t message me for a bit and I say “Hey, Is he still having drinks with his sister?” And his dad doesn’t respond. I go back into his messenger and I can see his dad messaging him “she’s asking me if you’re having drinks with your sister, what do you want me to tell her?”... you see I’ve already searched his messenger and there is no friend in Armidale in his messenger contacts. I did go into his Facebook and find a girls name consistently come up and she’s located in Armidale. I message him and I say “Can you please be honest with me for once”, he says “you’re not going to get much out of me my phone is on 1%”. I messaged again; “Are you in Armidale with another girl?”, I got no response. I go back to his messenger and I see him message his dad back “I know, I’m not talking to her, she’s being too much, just tell her I’ve gone to bed”. I wait for the message covering his son’s cheating ass - received. All I wanted was a straight answer. He messaged me the next day and said he was going to meet up with her and didn’t. It wasn’t until weeks later that I called his bluff and told him I had contacted her and she told me she had seen him... he said “Just because I hung out with her doesn’t make her a whore”. We talk some more and he calls me crazy again. He tells me he doesn’t love me and hasn’t for a while. I’m broken, I’m shattered.

I collapse on the shower floor, the hot water dripping down my body to soothe me. I’m crying, I’m sobbing. Lily; her eyes are so big and round, her brow furrowed with concern, she slowly approaches me looking at me and licks my hand. She’s been my biggest support, she’s my biggest companion. She’s always been there for me and has come to my rescue numerous times putting herself between me and our old dog that was sick and tried to attack me several times. She knows when I’m vulnerable. I’ve been so loyal, I’ve never cheated, I love him and I pour all my energy into him, why am I not good enough? Why am I never good enough? I feel like running a warm bath and taking one of his knives and dragging it along my wrists because I don’t want to have to deal with feeling these emotions, I’m not good enough. I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough. I feel like it’s hard to breathe at times and all the walls are closing in, I panic and I’ll message a friend who says “it’s okay”. I want to be loved. I want a family in the future. I want a man who loves every part of me and who supports me in being happy and healthy. I want what many other people want; someone who is committed and doesn’t make me feel unworthy like I have felt over the last four years. I continue to lay there in the foetal position holding onto myself. I eventually stand up and I scream at the top of my lungs because I have so much pain, hurt and anger and that’s all I can manage because I don’t have that will power to kill myself. I’ve spent years looking beyond his flaws and seeing the good in him, because I love him. This isn’t right.

He leaves me with all his crap, two dogs, and to move house on my own, he says “I’m not leaving you to do everything on your own” but he does, and I do it with the help of three friends. The three friends they look around and say “He really did leave you to do everything”. I pack all his things into black plastic bags and I find his aftershave, I take a break and I lock myself in the bathroom and I sit down for five minutes and I open it up and smell it - that refreshing smell. I take a moment and I throw it into one of the bags. I find one of his t-shirts and I hug it, I can smell his deodorant on it and I cry because I miss him and I know that’s the last I’ll have to deal with the senses of knowing he’s there. I it also into a bag and I do it up, I don’t want to look at his stuff again. I want to wipe if from my mind, quite frankly I want to bin it all.

He messages me asking me questions and I tell him to sort it out on his own, deep down I just want to say “I miss you, I love you” but I hold my ground and keep it direct and civil because that would change nothing. I’ve been answering his beck and call for years, “I’m tired of having the same conversation” I tell him, he excuses himself and says he’s been working and to several different bases in two weeks so it’s not at the front of his mind, reluctant I tell him “That’s not my problem” I’m now trying to break away he’s a big boy and doesn’t need me telling him what to do, I’m not his mother. He tells me I’m being a smart cunt and I made an issue out of nothing. I don’t bother responding because I am so fucking exhausted of playing “Mummy” to a 22 year old adult male. Suddenly a sigh of relief: “Thank god we aren’t married”, “Thank god we don’t have kids” (the dogs are close enough), “Thank god we don’t own a house together”.

I go to my first therapy session and my psychologist is blunt. He’s a clinical psychologist. The kind of psychologist I like. We quit the lovely dovey warm crap and cut to the chase, he looks at me and says pointedly “Your depression scores are incredibly high, but I won’t put you on medication because I know it will hinder your career choice that you’re aiming for. I can see you’re hurting, I can see it in your eyes and I can see you’re tired. He’s gaslighted you for years, he’s a piece of shit. You’re progressing really well though, more so than the other people I see who are still stuck in those really depressive stages. Let’s figure out how to move you forward”.

I start doing life without him, I feel like how Ariel must have felt when she was standing on her own two feet for the first time, I feel like I’m 18 again and I just moved out of home and I’m learning how to adult at an accelerated pace again. I can walk the dogs with no complaints. I can do the grocery shopping without hearing the huffing and puffing in the background. I come home and I feel like I’m not walking on eggshells. I can do the laundry without having a rant at finding the wet clothes/sheets just dumped in a pile on the washing line or stacks of dishes laying around. If I don’t want something in my way in the house I don’t need to ask a 22 year old child to move it - because theres nothing there to move. He never remembered my birthday - 24/04/1992 the day before Anzac Day, every year... It’s not hard to forget. I’m laying in bed staring at the ceiling and I don’t feel like crying. At times I feel lonely then I remember how alone he made me feel when we were dating... and then other times I feel so much more alive than I did a couple of months ago. I don’t feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world anymore, I resented being asked “Do you want to fuck him?” whenever he saw messages from guys in my messenger literally asking me if I’m okay or how I am - because it made me feel like utter filth when I was so committed in the relationship. I’m finally moving on.

It’s been 5 weeks. Friends, they reach out because they care, I’m grateful, and sometimes I reach out to them because I’m panicking and having an anxiety trip - thank you for responding, I love you all. I’ve lost 9kg and on a mission to lose more and get my booty back. I’m looking to go back to roller skating. I’m applying as an RFS volunteer. I’ve brushed the dreadlocks out of my hair, I’m wearing make up and for the first time in 4 years... I feel human. I’ve questioned myself for years... “Am I not attractive enough? Am I shit in bed? Am I really that fucking horrible he has to go looking elsewhere?”... He never once told me he thought I was beautiful - in fact the one time he did it was because a friend told him to because I was having a really shit day, completely resenting myself and my weight gain... and I found the message from her to him, I suppose it was something I wanted to hear because he just kept hurting me and I felt like I was not attractive enough and that’s why he kept looking elsewhere. The more I reflect the more I become aware it’s a him issue. I’ve booked in for my next therapy session. I refuse to go back on a dating app. If I date someone I feel it has to be someone I already know or someone I have connected with. I’m cautious. I will love again because I won’t let this experience dictate the rest of my life. I know I will trust again but it will take time and patience, when the right guy comes along I know he will respect that. I feel less harsh on myself. But I’m finding it hard to love myself again but I know with time it will be easier. I’ll get back to where I was and I won’t look back. There are times where I sincerely wish I had cut the cord years ago rather than begged to just end it if the behaviour wouldn’t change and I would be filled with empty promises and nothing changed.

I swear if at any point in my life I ever have a son I will raise him to never treat a woman so disrespectfully, I will raise him to be honest and to not use their partner as a cop out excuse. If I ever have a daughter I will also raise her to be honest and to walk away from a trash partner before she begins a process of self loathing and unworthyness. If you’re in a relationship similar to this walk away now. Know your self worth, because I lost mine and it’s going to take what feels like forever to gain it back.

I love you; I love you for cheating on me and fucking right off out of my life so I can finally breathe, I can finally meet someone who will love me and show me respect and I will give them the same back. I love you for allowing me to have the opportunity to be healthy and happy again. I love you for allowing me to pour all the positive love I had for you towards someone new one day and I hope they appreciate it anot let it go to waste like you did. Here’s to 2020, and here’s to my new life.

PS. Here’s a direct message from me to you if the shoe fits; Hooroo and Go fuck yourself.

[serenagaywaterford]

Who's the new commander/wife in s3? And yes, please give me s3 spoilers! Also, do you have any thoughts about mayday? How I wish we got to see more of it

OKAY ERRYBODY IN THE CLUB GET TIPSY. SPOILERS AHEAD.

EDIT: added in the Mayday stuff cos I forgot the first time around.

Like the actors? Christopher Meloni and Elizabeth Reaser, and they’re playing the Winslows who host the Waterfords in DC. (Which I’m not sure if you’ve seen all the hubbub about the DC trip but there are loads of pics of them shooting one of those scenes. You’ve probably seen them. Like with the Handmaids’ mouths stapled shut? Fred looking all Evil Supreme Leader-y with Serena and June alongside him.). Meloni is “powerful and magnetic” and Reaser is supposedly a “friend and inspiration” to Serena. Whatever the fuck all that means. It could be good, it could be bad. (Personally, I can’t stand either of those actors but meh. Maybe they’ll be okay.) And DC, not Boston, is Gilead central… and so Fred’s not really as important as he thinks. 

Off-topic: To be honest, I find this odd. We see frequently that all the dudes responsible for the rise/creation of Gilead are in Boston and it was formed IN Boston (Putnam, Pryce, Waterford, Cushing?, Lawrence, (Nick), etc.) so how there is a ANOTHER HIGHER level group of SOJ in DC is a little stupid, imo. It doesn’t make sense how that core group (the literal architects of the entire system) are off in Boston while the other guys (who we’ve literally never seen nor heard of before, even in flashbacks–bad storytelling, show) are top dogs in DC. Seems like yet another plot contrivance. Now, fair enough, that I think it’s sort of funny that Fred is still in Boston rather than with the big brass in DC cos he THINKS he’s so much smarter/better/etc than all these other guys but the fact he’s not there just shows that as much as he was one of the Gilead OGs, he’s too incompetent to be trusted at the highest level of government. HA HA FRED. Ya moron. I get that there’s never a guarantee that the evil people that come up with a totalitarian society are in charge of said society when it comes to fruition, but it’s a general trend throughout history. The fact all these guys would give up top billing of the SOJ to some punks from DC seems… a bit off. But then, hey, maybe said punks were the other part of the SOJ that Fred was talking about to Serena when he suggested bombing congress.

As for a few more, June flips out at one point, turning on other Handmaids (Brianna is holding her back.) It’s against a Handmaid who is a “true believer” in Gilead. I’m going to take an educated guess (based on where they’re filming) this is the lead up to the mass hanging. I guess I should mention: the Handmaids are gonna have to hang a bunch of people. Like a salvaging, but with hanging instead of stoning or beating.

June gets dressed up like a Martha.

June apparently works with Lawrence. It’s assumed she’ll be his Handmaid although the production, especially the DC scene, seem to imply she’s back with the Waterfords.

Serena’s mother shows up.

Luke & Moira are fighting against Gileadean ideology in Canada. Cos obviously it would come up here too. I always thought it was too happy-happy that Canada wasn’t experiencing ANY fallout from a worldwide birthrate crisis. Like, we may be more liberal than the US, but what happens there, spreads here fairly quickly. Like we have some Trumpian/Tea Party-esque politicians and racist/homophobic/xenophobic/misogynistic activist groups too, with a lot of power. And a lot of ignorant regular people to boot. The fact Canada was portrayed as like this utopia free from Gilead’s evilness just seemed unrealistic to me. While I do believe it would take a bit longer to take root here, the building blocks are already here and ripe for the pickin’. 

(I also have a huge issue with how unrealistically and healthy they portrayed the economy in Canada without their main US trading partner. We’d collapse if the US economy collapsed, at least for a time until we figured a way around it. Oil alone would go crazy. It wouldn’t be all life as normal. What Serena saw in 2x09 was literally what I see everyday here and I find it super hard to swallow that our lives would just go on as if nothing happened if the USA fell into massive civil war and was overthrown by a theocratic “republic”. 

And I also have a HUGE issue with how rosy they portrayed refugee and asylum seeking here. It’s just as bad as elsewhere, with all the same struggles that European countries (for example) are facing right now. Like if Gilead was an actual thing, Canada would be having a fucking mASSIVE humanitarian crisis along the border. We had a taste of it when Trump was elected and loads of people fled across the border. We could barely handle THAT, let alone hundreds of thousands of Americans swarming in to safety.) So, yeah, that’s a really long way of saying THANK FUCK the show is going to start to deal with some of the reality of the situation north of the border. They already showed Mexico breaking down and there’s no reason Canada wouldn’t too if the birthrate crisis is indeed as catastrophic as it’s presented by Serena/Fred/Gilead.

Emily makes it to Canada with Nichole. It’s all happy families. At least from the set photos the whole gang is there: Luke, Moira, Emily, Sylvia, Nichole. Not sure about Oliver or Erin. Now, the photo was likely taken when they weren’t filming which is why they’re all so fucking smiley and happy laughing together. That’s probably just the actors. But it could be shooting. I didn’t actually save the photos and I’m not sure where they are now. I think reddit?

Aunt Lydia is alive and will get some backstory and her character is gonna change. Somehow, somewhat, unclear how much. All cos of what Emily did to her.

Lots of stuff about Nichole, the whole Gilead vs. Canada thing, etc etc. 

____

I totally forgot to add about Mayday!

Personally… and first off: I much prefer the name “Mayday” to that weirdass co-opted “female railroad” or whatever shit they called it in the show when Moira was getting out. That was just in poor taste and completely uncreative. You don’t have to call it a railroad at all, tbh. It could be an extension of Mayday, or it could be called something entirely different. Sometimes the THT writers really drop the ball.

As for Mayday… I am not even convinced it exists as such? When I was reading the book, I liked the theory that Emily was sort of … not crazy, but misinformed or exaggerating. The only we really hear about Mayday in the book is through her and there’s no real evidence it exists as a cohesive organization. 

In the show, it’s like we’ve been fed this Mayday idea… but again, not seen anything particularly solid in terms of evidence it exists as a large organized resistance effort. 

We see Emily talk about it but she never seems to get anything from it and everything she does is through her own agency. Mayday never helps her.

We see June ask Alma about it. But Alma doesn’t really say much.

We see Nick, kind of doing his own thing and organizing shit for June, specifically. (We never see him do anything for any other woman except the one he’s banging. Snerk.) 

We see Lillie somehow get a complex explosive and blow shit up. Obviously that came from somewhere and it’s not the sort of thing a Handmaid can just make herself. There has to be a “terrorist cell” (as Gilead would consider it) within Gilead that siphons off weapons to a small rebel faction and passed it to her.

We know there’s a war still going on because Fred talks about the front so there are obviously large pockets that are actively and violently resisting Gilead within the continental US. IIRC the map they showed, the fighting tends to be along international borders and in the west and Florida? I can’t really remember the map exactly. There’s no real evidence that these people at war are also running an underground resistance network within Gilead strongholds like Boston. But other than sympathetic Guardians, Eyes, Angels, they could be the ones supplying weapons.

We see the butcher hand June the package from Moira. Somehow there is a network that passed this along.

We see the Guardian give June the way out of the hospital to the butcher’s truck. This could be Nick’s doing alone, not a network.

We see the butcher/delivery dude who brings June to the Globe. Again, this could solely be Nick as well, but we don’t know.

We see there’s Omar, who seems more like someone who accidentally fell into it rather than an active participant. We also learn that “Mayday” has supposedly safe houses within Gilead, but we never see them.

We see the pilot who helps people escape to Canada.

We hear of “Rachel” often, especially wrt Jezebels. I don’t think we ever see Rachel however. It could be code, it could be a person, it could be a group of people. Considering the gravity of the name Rachel in Gilead, I would put my money on this being a code name cos the writers don’t just throw little things like that around. Especially since Moira, who lived and worked at Jezebels, claims she doesn’t know a “Rachel”. Sure, she could just be protecting June or she could actually be telling the truth. I find it really interesting that the consulate worker in Toronto is called Rachel as well. While I don’t think the two are connected, I’m just surprised at all the references to Rachels in THT, esp with the story of Rachel & Leah (+ Bilhah, Zilpah, etc.) being such a massive cornerstone to the entire society.

We see the Marthas have a very complex network that is referenced multiple times and is known to Commanders, and they’ve done very little to address it for some reason.

We see Serena get both cigarettes and a pregnancy test, both of which are illegal technically although nobody seems to take issue with Serena’s smoking. I would assume this is unrelated to Mayday and more akin to Jezebels (and its sex trafficking) as the illegal underbelly of Gilead that everyone knows exists and everyone uses but nobody talks about. The black market likely has no connection. But it’s still something that requires a large chain of procurement and distribution, and secret knowledge of how to access it.

I’ve probably missed some other examples…

None of this really speaks to a larger web, imo. I can easily see these as individual cells, sometimes connected, rather than ruled by some grand master command somewhere nonspecific and so far unseen. Resistance usually doesn’t begin with a cohesive structure but small cells that see a need to rebel or at least protect/assist victims. It’s also MUCH safer that way and harder to dismantle the entire thing if cells are independent. (I used to be fascinated with the so-called “eco-terrorist” culture.) 

And I would say Mayday, if it exists, relies on Econopeople, specifically Economen and Guardians who have “normal” jobs and freedom of movement within Gilead. But we’ve been shown SO VERY LITTLE about the lives of Econopeople (the majority). I mean, it makes sense since this is the Handmaid’s Tale, not the Economan’s Tale… still, it’s very abrupt to build a giant resistance network suddenly and not have shown anything of real substance about it in 2 seasons.

Other than Lawrence, there’s no indication that any other Commanders or Wives are involved in any resistance but I think we’re supposed to believe some are. So it’ll be curious what side these new characters fall on, whether Mrs. Winslow is an “inspiration” in terms of resistance or compliance. I think we all assume she’ll be on the side of resistance and inspire Serena to take that path (although I think June and Nichole and her own awful husband should be inspo enough lol). I’m not so sure since this is THT and I am absolutely terrible at predicting anything, lol. I can see THT going the opposite direction just as easily. I hope not, but hey.

I think for simplicity within a TV show, they’ll flatten it to a single resistance organisation. 

Quite frankly, I wish we had already seen more of Mayday, if it exists. I feel a bit annoyed that it’s been 23 episodes and other than a few hints, we’ve never seen a significant exploration of any of it. Like how on earth June is supposed to just be a Martha…? I just… I don’t know. Who knows.

Since we know this season is going to be all about Team Resistance, obviously they’ll go into more detail. I just wish we had seen more ahead of time. Although to be perfectly frank, I also really enjoyed the “Emily is sorta crazy and Mayday doesn’t quite exist” theory too.

[morethanamillennial]

I Met My Husband On Tinder

"Swipe left, swipe left, swipe right, swipe left."  

If you’re a millennial this might sound familiar. f you’re a millennial woman, that is. For you millennial men, "swipe right, swipe right, swipe right, swipe right" might be a little more accurate.

Tinder. The place we millennials go for a quick, easy hookup. Or is it? 

The commonly held belief is that there are two types of people on Tinder. There are the ones who just want an easy hookup and the ones who are desperately searching for the love of their lives (“desperately” being the key word).

  I married the third kind. 

  I think we all need to end this taboo where we deny we've ever been on Tinder. We’ve all done it.  We’re living in the generation of social media and technology. We literally use our phones for everything; Vemno to pay our friends back, Amazon to order our groceries, and Rover to find a sitter for our precious pets.  Can we stop pretending we don't also use an app to get dates?

Let’s backtrack to this "two types of people" theory. There are two types of people: the ones who admit they're using Tinder and the ones who pretend they're not.  

Before I met my husband, I was on and off Tinder for a few years.  As a single, career-driven woman I moved to new towns often and completely.  I found it shockingly difficult to build a solid friend group in the working adult world.  Especially after living college life, with bars and house parties bursting at the seams with drinks and new friends.  So, I’d use Tinder in the hope of meeting people in new areas.  I figured I'd make some friends, or at least get out and explore.  I can honestly say I was never the type to use Tinder to find a hookup.  I also never truly expected to find real love on Tinder.  All in all, though, I went on some pretty decent dates and met some pretty normal guys.

I do have good friends who have used Tinder with the sole intention of finding serious relationships as well as others just searching for a one-night-stand.  More power to them.  Who is anyone to judge someone else's love or sex life, on or off Tinder?  The point is, there are all different kinds of people looking for different kinds of things on Tinder.  That fact is no different whether or not people meet in bars, on subways, through mutual friends, or at the library. 

A few months into a particular move to a new town, I realized I needed to get out and meet some people. So, I logged into Tinder one evening and matched with my now husband. I saw he was in the same town as me, verified there was nothing alarming in his bio, there were no d*** pics in his profile, and swiped right.  He said "Hello".  I responded three weeks later.  We exchanged a few words and agreed we’d meet up for a drink in a few days.  

It was love at first sight. 

  Just kidding. It was a relatively mediocre first date. I picked some clothes off my apartment floor 10 minutes before we were to meet, smelled them to make sure they were fresh enough, and darted out the door.  He was normal enough and seemed interesting. I enjoyed talking with him and wanted to get to know him better, but still wasn't putting pressure or expectations on our meeting.  

  A week or so later I was the one who texted him asking if he’d like to go out downtown again. So, I'm pretty sure he wasn't investing his heart and soul so quickly, either. 

That second meet-up we had so much fun together.  There were no questions about how many kids I wanted to have, at what age I saw myself getting married, and I especially never heard the "So, what are you on tinder looking for?" (Translation: DTF?) I could go into deeper detail on our process of falling in love but suffice it to say it happened naturally with no pressure, and Tinder is what brought us together. 

  When I first started realizing our relationship was getting serious, I feared having to tell our families how we met.  I knew everyone would pass judgement on what Tinder was for and why we would have been on it.  I knew the minute people heard that we met on Tinder, they would look at our relationship in a certain light.  Many would lose respect for our relationship, and no longer take it seriously.

My husband on the other hand, had no shame and thought I was ridiculous for caring what anyone thought of how we met.  (He was right.)  When I think about how much I love him, how thoughtful he is, how we laugh together, and how great our conversations are, I never think, "Oh, but we met on Tinder, these things mean less.  I'd really love him more if we'd met at a bar or walking down a street".  To be honest, I don't often think about how we met at all.  It usually only comes up if someone asks us, and my husband and I typically just laugh at how unexpected our love was. 

I just attended a wedding in New York. The wedding was between my two friends who met on Tinder.  My co-worker and her husband just had a baby and opened their first business.  They met on Tinder a few years ago.  My best friend and her boyfriend recently got their first place and moved cross country together.  Their love began on a Tinder date.  I have never been so happy in my life. I thank Tinder.  

Don't get me wrong, I think a lot of people on Tinder fit into the "two types" mold I talked about above, but there are those rare "third types". Sometimes people are new in town and just looking to get out, or shy and scared to approach someone out in public, or just not into the bar scene where lots of people meet. You can't pass a blanket judgement on people who are on Tinder. There are all kinds of people, looking for all different kinds of things. That's the nature of this world.  

My husband and I are not the only Tinder love story out there, and if your love story began one night of swiping left or right, there's no shame in that.  We're all doing it, whether or not we want to admit it.  If you just so happen to be one of the ones who find an amazing partner on Tinder, count your blessings for being one of the lucky ones in this world to have a great relationship.  The fact that you met on Tinder does not define your relationship- and either way those negative connotations need to be expired.

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[apsbicepstraining]

5 Harsh Truths That Will Make You Less Of A Jerk

Humanity is principally defined by its is no way to seize the obvious. So, let me ask you this TAGEND

What is the most obviously wrong shit that beings feel on a daily basis that — wait for it — you too believe ?

I’m talking about something that you know on an intellectual level is incorrect, but five minutes after being reminded of it, you forget again. If you can’t think about one, well, I gamble I can. And it comes back to burn you in the proverbial ass method more frequently than you think …

# 5. We Are Privately Sure Everyone Feels The Same Pleasure And Pain

When you’re a toddler, you acquire everyone and everything in your world are similar to you. That’s why you used to think your thrust animals get lonely if you didn’t play with them and that your parents would love your cartoons if they would just give them an opportunity. It’s a normal chapter of a kid’s proliferation and as this much smarter guy points out, we never certainly germinate out of it.

I mean, you probably recollect being a boy and hearing an amazing new song that shaped you want to punch-dance through a brick wall … and then you played it for a couple sidekicks and they just got that gross look on their faces. You know, the watch of nervously pretending to enjoy something loathsome? What follows is more awkward three minutes of your life, during which you find yourself going steadily angrier( “Why are they claiming not to like it? ” ). But eventually, you grow up and realize that not everyone likes the same things.

Years afterwards, you get the flu but ability through production anyway, rather than miss season. Then, a co-worker catches it and takes three sick daytimes. You roll your eyes and announce him a pussy, automatically assuming that the two of you two are find exactly the same indications, but that one of you was tougher.

The obvious concept you’ll be missing is that standing is at least as subjective as music. Hell, discipline even is indicated that redheads tend to feel more ache than everyone else, due to a genetic quirk. It appears that it’s the same for women, due to how pain signals are communicated to the girl intelligence. Meanwhile, people from colder parts of the world literally stop feeling the cold the method the rest of us do. Some beings almost never appear fear — not due to firmnes, but due to a collapse of certain types of contacts in the intelligence( they’re called sociopaths ). All of the hotshots that motivate us to haunt specific actions and avoid others actually feel totally different from person to person.

She can snow angel for hours on end, but needs an ER trip and three months of rehab after a snowball engage .

You’ll shrug and say, “Of course, everyone known to be, you turdthinker, ” but five minutes after reading such articles, you’ll act in a way that substantiates you don’t. I’ve had fit acquaintances get annoyed with me when I say I’ve never experienced the “runner’s high” euphoria that comes with hard exercise. They say it’s because I’m not pushing myself hard enough, while science says some people are just physically incapable of appearing it. So, are my friends fit because they’re more dedicated than I am, or do they just enjoy the “high” of employ? They clearly want the former to be true. My thin acquaintances don’t like to admit that there’s a hormone that moves you starving and that some people simply have more of it.

That’s because formerly you accept the idea that it rightfully would feel completely different to live inside another person’s form, everything changes. After all, at what point can you safely accuse person for, well, anything?

# 4. We Don’t Realize The Battle Inside

I know what you’re saying. I ever know. “Oh, so you’re one of those buttholes who say nothing is anybody’s blame, because those poor souls are helpless to refuse their caprices? So, when somebody tortures a child to fatality, we’re supposed to give him a hug and say he couldn’t used to help? Is that it, butthole? You are the hole of a butt.”

No! You altogether are defined by how good of a position you do opposing your pernicious exhorts and overcoming hurting. Maturation is an issue of getting better at it; success is an issue of mastering it. Beating back the urge to procrastinate, to cease, to be lazy … that’s how you reach the top, child! Buy my notebook !

But …

You know that person at the part who’s ever furious? He blew up last month because soul lost an invoice. Last Christmas, he lost his shit because he thought somebody stole his lunch out of the fridge. You check him throw his outbursts and marvel at how immature he is. After all, you get angry, very, but you ensure it! Hell, you’ve had people plagiarize your lunch tons of periods, and you’ve never kicked a trashcan so difficult that it left a dent and realise the secretary cry.

Sure, you’ve fantasized about shitting in the culprit’s yogurt and blaming it on the apprentice, but you’ve never actually done it .

However, here’s the thing: From your outcome, he’s “always” angry. From his culminate, he’s had two blowups spread across several months and, in between those incidents, he successfully resisted the recommend to explode 162 experiences . His anger urges come more frequently than yours, and he experiences them more strongly. For him, every “normal” day is the result of a hard-won duel … but, you merely see when he loses. He find himself as the hero of his own life, battered and bruised by his personal demons. You envision him as a ridiculous manchild who loves to discover himself yell. You detest his unstable, feelings ass.

Or, you witness the space your depressed sidekick goes residence from operate and immediately clangs on the sofa, refusing to go out or do anything recreation. You dislike the acces she merely … affords up and refuses to even talking here it. Invisible to you is the merciless attempt she exerted precisely to make it through wreak. So, you get annoyed. Or, you find your marriage “feel like i m cheating on” you. You didn’t investigate all of the dozens of hours he had the exhort and fought. You merely encounter the moment he lastly demonstrated in. And you want to fucking kill him for it.

Basically half of all country music jobs are started this way .

And because you exclusively established up in the consequences of the these combats, they believe your grumbles to be the equivalent of some bureaucrats intimidating Arnold Schwarzenegger’s character after the events of Predator . “Why did you blow up a whole jungle, asshole? Your whole gang is dead, and it’s your flaw! No, I don’t want to hear your apologizes! Whose arm is this? “

“Fuck the chopper, your ass is getting to the unemployment path! ”

# 3. … But We’ll Usually Forgive Ourselves For The Same Failure

Here’s a question I bet you’ve never stopped to ask: Why is it an insult to allege officers of adoration doughnuts? Or to joke about how black people affection fried chicken or watermelon?

And simply clearly stated, those are reviles( in the U.S ., at the least ). If a officer plucks you over and you tell him, “Hey, you know the doughnut shop shuts at 8 p. m ., you better move, ” you know you’re pee-pee him off. If a grey buster moves up to groupings of black people standing on a street corner and says, “What, did somebody sag a barrel of fried chicken? ” he knows he’s trying to start a fight.

One that’ll end with him complaining online that nobody but him has a sense of humor anymore . But, why is it an offend? It’s not like the behaviour itself is vile — right now, there’s some grey buster sitting in a Popeyes Chicken restaurant snickering to his friends because a group of pitch-black guys trodden in. “Ha, how did I know they’d be here! I potted they’d rioting if this neighbourhood closed down! ” — literally taunting their desire of fried chicken through a sip of fried chicken. Well, what you’re find is a ritual we all go through in order to reassure ourselves. “Theres” two steps to it TAGEND

For the first, imagine a group of friends sitting around and sharing embarrassing fibs. As many of you know, during filming of the TV present Nashville , I was accidentally captured in the backdrop of a shot urinating into a fountain. So, I will tell that storey among friends, because I know someone else will immediately try to top it( “One age, ” says John, “I was pissing in the lavatory during a White House tour, and the president strolled in and I inadvertently turned around and pissed on him! I think some of it got in his lip! ” ). The aim is to reassure each other that our lives are screwed up in exactly the same way.

“For the record, John wholly plagiarized that storey from me.”

But, then comes the second largest part of the ritual, in which we’ll jest at somebody else’s screw-ups in a completely unforgiving and mean-spirited room, strictly to reassure ourselves that their failures aren’t like ours. “My family went to India a couple of years ago. All of the streets reek like piss! Merely a disgusting people — they’re like swine! “

This is why I invested my first got a couple of decades of life stimulating gay laughs with my small-town peers. For a cluster of guys scared of what their hormones were doing to them( “they can never know I jerked off to a Sports Illustrated article about beach volleyball! ” ), it was very reassuring to sit around and say, “Man, are you able dream going turned on by buster laughingstock ? ” It’s the same reason we would laugh at a friend’s messy copulation legends( “So, then I wake up and roll over — I’m like, I don’t even know this chick! She looked like fucking Richard Belzer! “) and then immediately talking here what worthless sluts those cheerleaders are. The theme? Our uncontrollable compulsions are lighthearted recreation, theirs are a signaling of weakness and degeneracy.

“Can you believe Richard Belzer just takes these pics that guys like us is likely to be masturbate to? God, what a Hollywood closet case.”

Thus, the “fried chicken” gags. The consequence is that, where my consumption of deep-fried chicken is just a ordinary buster gobbling an incredibly favourite American bowl, their uptake is due to a atrocious cultural failure to control their pushes. It shifts them into cartoonish gluttons, with no more self-control than pups. It’s the same reason my high school gay parodies often implied that homosexuals are ravenous rapists who can’t control their immorality( “When you’re in the cupboard chamber with Kevin, don’t deflect over for the soap! ” ).

But, in addition to causing us to be dicks to other people, this double standard too symbolizes …

# 2. You’re Constantly Getting Blindsided By Your Own Weaknesses

There’s this thing everybody does the first time they have to sit down and write up a budget. They’ll plan everything down to the penny — the really smart ones will even set aside some fund for disaster gondola restores and those sorts of things. But, they are able to also completely fail to plan for one important category TAGEND

Fucking up.

I’m talking about the weekend when you’re so depressed that you only buy a shitload of day-old grocery store donuts and eat all of them yourself. I’m talking about the eBay auction you acquire thanks to a drunken late-night offer, or the expensive talent bought for a special a person who has you detect doesn’t looks just like you back, or the dumb impulse buys you’ll inevitably become when you’re get over the breakup and want some kind of shining spot in their own lives( maybe it’ll be a puppy next time !).

“I’m not going to name you, so I’ll feel less guilty when you have to be returned.”

“Well, I precisely won’t do those happenings, ” you’ll say, “now that I have a fund! ” See, Future You goes tagged with the same ludicrous belief we make about strangers: All motivations can easily be overcome with a little effort. Future You won’t oblige dumb purchases to deaden desolate moods! That shit is what Old You did — from here on out, it’s smooth sailing!

And when you start dating mortal new, you never envisage, “This will be a good person to handle my alternating irritation outbursts and emotional cold spells six months after now! ” You’ll instead suppose yourself being awesome and stable, eternally. And when job opportunities comes up to take on a second place, one that would eliminate both sleep and your social life? “No problem! Future Me doesn’t get sleepy or lonely! Future Me is a robot that works with absolute precision and reliability! “

“Ho Hos from the vending machine are the only Christmas dinner I need tonight.”

Oh, sure, there are parties out there who run the opposite room, who joke about how they’re precisely a loser destined to wind up old and drunkard. But, frequently, the precise reasonablenes they’re down is because they’re repeatedly disappointed by how they screw up in the same roads again and again. Their own weaknesses continue to astonish them, since they are refuse to be realistic about how strong the desires are by comparison. Here’s a relevant time for those of you who want a brief YouTube snap TAGEND

It’s hard-handed, if not impossible, to make peace with the fact that we are always going to fuck up on occasion. And, at health risks of going taken out of situation, I’ve got to say that this has really facilitated me realize Satan.

That concept of a tempter who can work from inside your very mind, offering up short-term gratifications in exchange for long-term destruction … it prepares feel. I don’t mean as a literal being, but as a course to facilitate step outside yourself in those critical time. You get an urge and you stop to say, “Is this the devil, tempting me? ” It realise you suspicious of your short-term indulgings — the starvation, the rage, the selfishness — all that shit that will devastates your relationships and health in the long run. When someone else screws up, you can see them as a fellow casualty of the Dark Lord himself, deserving of sympathy.

But, you know, there’s a intellect Christians still cheat on their spouses and booze themselves to fatality. All they were required to do is change the focus to other people and keep it there( “Gays are just heterosexuals who’ve been invited into sin by the Devil! ” ). Hey, be talking about which …

# 1. We Give Clueless, Bullshit Solutions … And Then Get Angry When They Don’t Work

That last thing is probably the most perfect portrait of what I’m talking about in this article. Why do Christians seem so obsessed with homosexuality? Why have they decided lesbian marriage is the one issue capable of exterminating the light of the righteous from the universe eternally?

Because it’s the ultimate exam of the “Everyone knows the same temptations” fallacy.

If you sit down a cluster of anxious and tired people and start proclaiming to them about their fragilities( desire, gluttony, petty savagery, adultery ), you get lots of vexed folks altering uncomfortably in the pews. But, when you take that same mob and preach against lures they never find, if you rail against the “gay agenda” and Muslims and the depravity of Hollywood, now you get some ovations and “Amens” flowing your room. “Let us all congratulate ourselves for not succumbing to the push to change our sexual orientation or transformed into Islam! We are truly badass fighters of goodnes! “

“Like Jesus before me, I genuinely have the eye of the beast! ”

And obligate no mistake, having grown up in an evangelical church, up until my 20 s I knew exactly how to solve the lesbian wedding act: Simply give them the same rights as everyone else. And by that, I signify the right to marry the opposite fornication. I swear it built appreciation at the time and, because you presumably did not just start reading the clause right here, you already know why. Everyone, I was told, is actually a heterosexual — God said so. Thus, “gay” people simply have a funny fetish for the same fornication that they can get over with a bit tradition. If you’d told me that my homophobia was itself the result of my own bad caprices( including an overdeveloped gumption of disgust that’s common to social reactionaries ), I’d have gazed at you like you’d precisely puckered your cheeks and realized one steady fart noise. ” My behavior isn’t due to uncontrollable impulses! I’m a fully functional human being, with a person, who constitutes moral selects! “

And if you’d told me that not only is what they’re doing not immoral, but that if I swopped organizations with them, I’d be just as gay , if not more so? Hopeless. For me, at the time, the implications would have been shattering.

You’d have gotten a similar mind from me considering anyone outside my own group, in fact. If you’d driven me through the projects, I’d have calmly explained that if I was born there, I’d get a part-time job, save up some money, and move the hell out! I stepped around every day patting myself on the back for overcoming counsels I didn’t even detect, to make myself feel right about the ones I was giving in to on a daily basis. My years of asshole know-how are probably why I’m so fascinated with the Internet’s fat-hating obsession today. I return it up a lot, and it’s because each time some clueless 20 time old-fashioned says, “Losing weight is simple: It’s calories in, calories out! All you need is a little self-respect! ” I smile and nod and think, “Yep, that was me! I thought that same condescending bullshit! “

Spoiler: I was incorrect .

But, I attest that even experts acquire the same damned mistake, and always will. Pick any theme. Like the obesity stuff — we’ll listen a new possibility every month about whether fighting obesity is about cutting carbs, or paunch, or sugar, or precisely dismissing it all and cutting calories. They rarely seem to factor in the only thing that really subjects: which diet doesn’t leave you starving. Because if you’re getting pummeled with emptines insists, you will succumb. This is why exercise doesn’t induce you lose weight — exercise ignites calories but also clears you hungrier. And exactly 100 percentage of humans have a doorstep at which they no longer have the force to repel an exhort. I don’t care who you are — if the president himself got thirsty enough, he’d be begging John to pee-pee in his lip. It’s science.

It would also be a great style to choose who in the field really wants to be president .

Or what about violation? Statistically, if you grew up under certain circumstances, you’re far more likely to turn into war criminals. Now, cue the anecdotes: “Well, I grew up in the rough part of city, and I never so much as got a rushing ticket! ” See, because their impulse to commit crimes is surely no more powerful than ours, and our clean register is, hence, proof that we’re Gandhi. So, why lift a finger to improve those Ferguson “thugs” change “peoples lives”? None helped us! Better to retain a handgun under the couch and imagine about filming them when they break in.

“Well now, wait a second, ” you say, “that simply draws us back to the blame question that “youve never” got around to reacting. If we can’t genuinely know how hard individual pushed the motive to do the shitty happening he only did, then how do we know when it’s okay to call him an asshole ? “

Hmmm. Good subject. Here’s someone babying a minuscule owl.

The post 5 Harsh Truths That Will Make You Less Of A Jerk appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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[ryryanfunko-blog]

“I GOTS DA GIFT!”: Marty McFly & DeLorean Funko Pop!

Obtained: Christmas 2014 Photos Posted On: Dec. 1, 2015

So this is the only Pop that I’ve got that came with another object, and I really liked it. I’d seen it on Hot Topic’s website and quickly noticed it cost somewhere like $23? or $25? Something like that. And again, at this time, I still wasn’t crazy about Funko Pops. But, I am a big Back to the Future fan. It’s definitely one of my favorite movies of all time. And I know, I know, there’s three of them. But I’ll group ‘em in all together as “a movie,” just for the sake of ranking favorite movies. Because frankly, my top favorite movies seem to be a line of movies with sequels. And I can’t really choose one over the other, because they all really stand well together (except, admittedly, I think Back to the Future III was meh). So, Inception’s my favorite movie of all time at this point, but some movies following that in no particular order are the Back to the Future movies, The Matrix movies, the Ocean’s trilogy, and more. 

Tangent again, but whatevs. So, I saw it on Hot Topic’s site, and I wasn’t that crazy for Funko Pops yet. So seeing a price tag of $23-25 for a toy? Didn’t make sense to me. So I passed. But anytime I’d be on a computer, I’d often find myself going back to HotTopic.com just to look at it, LMAO. And by now, I’ve come to realize, if I find myself re-checking some sort of product, it’s a sure sign I do want it, and if I can, I should probs get it. But I didn’t think like that at the time, so I’d online-window-shop it and then get back to my regular routine. But Christmas was nearing, and from my last funko blog post, you’d know I just bought a Frieza Pop to gift to my brother. Well, so, for Christmas, or any gift-giving occasion, my brother’s straight to the point and doesn’t like to play guessing games, and this is one of the things I like about him: he asks you straight up what you want. LMAO. I love it because for Christmas, my brother and sister are both like Santa Claus in a way. My sister really plays into it though. She literally comes over with SACKS of gifts. Multiple gifts. Not cheap little stocking stuffers. She buys multiple nice gifts and puts them in a sack, for each person. Thing is though, if I’m being honest, she often does get things she thinks may be cool or useful, but actually might not be. Again, it’s the thought that counts… But in that way, she’s like Santa Claus. My brother though, although he doesn’t gift with multiple items or huge sacks, he’ll accept lists from me, LOL. I’ll give him a list of things I want and he might get me one or two of them. But at least it’s a guarantee of what I actually want! So that’s always been cool. Oh, and when I said he doesn’t sack his gifts, I forgot to clarify that he doesn’t do anything to wrap or conceal them either. He just gives it to you straight in the store bag he bought it from, LOL. But whatevs, I gots da gift! Oh, and another thing; my sister, although it’s nice she sacks up a bunch of gifts, for a few years I’d send my Christmas list to my closest family members, to sort of make it easy for them like my brother; you know, take the guess work out of it. I’d try to be as polite as possible though, because it does feel strange to ASK for gifts, but I mean, if we’re being real, if we know the gifts are coming, wouldn’t we not want our money to go to waste and get something the other person may not even like? I’m all for playing it safe and being sure they’ll want and like the gift. But my sister made it clear she doesn’t like that I send out a list, and that it’s not my Birthday (ie: I shouldn’t get to choose). I get it. So she blatantly ignores my lists and gets me what she thinks I’ll like. And well, let’s just say that my closet can only fit so much… 

;-)

Another tangent. Weeeee! LOL. My bad. It ties in though. Read on, reader.

So anyway, Christmas was nearing and my brother asked for a list from me. I forget exactly what was on that list now… I vaguely recall some weight-lifting related item… maybe that was at the top of my list. I think it was some weight lifting gloves. Not sure though. There were some other stuff too, but I know the Marty McFly Funko Pop was included. And well, voila! My brother gifted me the Marty McFly Funko Pop!! From…??

(This is where you guess)

(Keep guessing)

(This isn’t where I do one of those annoying things people do in conversations and go, “Guess what? *they answer it without actually allowing you a chance to guess*)

(I’m actually gonna allow you a chance to guess)

(Okay, time’s up, over… blaow! snap back to… the future… – see what I did there? ;-)

(Major brownie points to whoever got those references)

(Yes, there were two references in that one line)

(BTW, screw brownie points. Like sorry brownies, imma let you finish, but Krispy Kreme donuts are the best sweets in the world)

(Cinnabons are close behind though, without a doubt)

HOT TOPIC! DOT COM! Yep, he ordered it from their site (I told him where he could get each gift, should he get them). But I knew he got it from HotTopic.com because, as usual, he did nothing to conceal it. He gave it to me inside the shipping box with invoice slip and all, LMAO. Oh!!! It’s coming back to me. He got me this pop, but also did get me weight lifting gloves! Sports Chalet!! But, he got the wrong size, and they didn’t have my size in stock, so he ended up just returning them, but that was totally fine. So yep, Christmas of 2014, we ended up exchanging Funko Pops, basically. LOL. I got him a Frieza and he got me a Marty McFly with his DeLorean. I ended up placing this awesome little dude and his whip on my TV counter with the other pops I had, right on top of the cable box. Soon, I’d move it over to the corner of my desk. It’s currently on the top of my Funko shelf case that I’ll most likely post online at some point. I’ve posted pics of it online at various moments, but the line-up always changes. :-)

So yeah, I was super stoked to get this Pop. Although I wasn’t crazy over Funko Pops quite yet, I’d been kinda side-eyeing them. In a curious way. One of the things that helped was that my co-worker Kasey displayed some out-of-box Funko Pops on his desk, one of which was his Deadpool Pop. Just seeing it at his desk every day kinda had me intrigued to their cute little designs. And so, any time I’d walk past a Hot Topic, I’d just look at the Pops, but not necessarily feel a desire to buy one. But every time I’d see the Marty McFly Pop on Hot Topic’s site, I always thought about how cool of an out-of-box Funko Pop it would be to have, since it was with the freaking DeLorean!! 

I just love the Back to the Future movies. The 2nd one is my favorite because of its futuristic elements. I loved the futuristic ideas they had; the self-lacing shoes, the hoverboard, the self-drying jacket, their fashion. I dunno, I dug it. It’s also pretty cool how some of those things are being attempted to be produced today. I’m kinda iffy on it because of how its being done. I mean first off, the self-tying shoes, Nike came out with some a few years ago. Except I heard they weren’t even self-lacing, they were just replicas. Meaning, they were just designed/modeled after the movie’s shoes. But it was still cool; they looked fresh. But, they were super limited and were only being sold on eBay, I think. But they sold for super insane amounts of money. So that wasn’t realistic to get. Then they made another attempt at it like last year in 2016, but I didn’t follow through with the news on it. Also like super limited/unattainable/crazy-expensive, so I didn’t care for it again. But then they were making another actual self-lacing shoe that was more affordable, but this thing looked ugly. Looked like a Skecher shoe with a nike swoosh on it. No offense to Skecher wearers. :-) And secondly, like seriously, hoverboards. We’ve got “hoverboards” today. I’m not sure why we call it that when they’re just segways without handlebars, which may or may not explode. *shrugs*

But anyway, yeah, I love the Back to the Future films, 3rd was meh, and 2nd was my fav. I forgot how I ever got introduced to the films. I think my dad introduced me to the movies… maybe he rented them on VHS? or perhaps we caught them on TV? I’m leaning towards VHS though. But anyway, I loved them so much that in my late high school years, or maybe even early college years, I’m not quite sure… but around that time, when I had some money of my own, I bought the trilogy on DVD. This is big for me, because I don’t like buying movies on DVD. I don’t like rewatching movies. It’s too much time to dedicate to watch something I’ve already seen and already know what’s gonna happen. And to pay to re-do something? Not my ideal spend of money. But, when it's a film I really enjoy? I’ll shell out some cash for it :-) So I got myself the trilogy and rewatched it in all of its glory. I remember back in the day too that my best friend at the time, Jason, would catch one of the movies on TV. We’d be on the phone together, and I’d put on my DVD and ask him where he’s at in the film, and I’d fast forward to that part and it’d be like we were watching together. Fun times. But now, I can’t actually find my trilogy of DVDs :’( (nor can I find Jason, LMAO, but that’s a whole other topic). If only this Funko Pop DeLorean could bring me back in time………. LOL, I was gonna make some cheesy joke about going back in time to find that DVD trilogy… But how much of a waste would that be? Imagine? Using some time travel machine just to find an old DVD set I had, when things like Biff as President and stupidvisors exist? Yeah, real smart use of time travel, Ry. :p

So as for the Funko photos themselves… The first photo with the newspaper was a photo I was stoked to take a pic of. Just archiving the fact I have these two things, is enough to encapsulate my fandom for the movie. I love the fact that USA Today came out with their own Back to the Future themed paper on the date that Marty travelled to the future. For one thing, that was massively creative, and perhaps took a lot of patience on USA Today’s part. Like, I wonder when they thought up to do this, and how long the company’s been waiting to publish it, LOL. And also, it finally put an end (?) to all those ridiculous memes that would pretend “oh, this is the day and year that Marty travelled into the future!” Like nope, nice try, clickbait. No really, nice try. A bunch of “fans” fell for it. But it was easy to tell when they were fake memes. The original Back to the Future setting takes place in 1985. That’s the starting point. Marty basically travels 30 years in either direction. Don’t @ me about the 3rd movie when he goes into the ol’ west, because I don’t care about that, and I’m like 95% certain 1985 is still a good reference point, because he probably ended up going back to 1885. So back to the meme. If he is only going 30 years in either direction, that means 2015 was the year of his travel into the future. BOOM. Case Closed. (Love that anime.) So the newspaper though, I wasn’t able to snag it the morning it came out for like a number of cents… or whatever newspapers cost these days. I had to order it online from USA Today’s website for like $4 D,: LOL. 

The second photo was just a standard pic to take in Marty and his whip, LOL. I love Funko’s mold of the DeLorean. It’s done perfectly, IMO. Just the right percentage of a used and dated look to it, but not overly raggy, which captures the essence the ride always had in the movies :’). Also, I love the irony of the car itself. It looks like a cheap hunk of metal. Like not high-class or sophisticated looking. But its function is quite the opposite and performs an action of only the highest of class and sophistication! The third pic, well, I was hoping to just snap a shot of Marty and the DeLorean in front of the DVD box I had… But alas, it was lost somewhere… in the past… so instead I grabbed some Calvin Klein tag laying around and just snuck it in as an Easter egg treat for any of those who really dig Back to the Future :-) And if you don’t know the reference, you’re not finding it here. Go watch the movie(s)!

https://twitter.com/_RyRyan/status/671708238560161792

[apsbicepstraining]

5 Harsh Truths That Will Make You Less Of A Jerk

Humanity is principally defined by its is no way to seize the obvious. So, let me ask you this TAGEND

What is the most obviously wrong shit that beings feel on a daily basis that — wait for it — you too believe ?

I’m talking about something that you know on an intellectual level is incorrect, but five minutes after being reminded of it, you forget again. If you can’t think about one, well, I gamble I can. And it comes back to burn you in the proverbial ass method more frequently than you think …

# 5. We Are Privately Sure Everyone Feels The Same Pleasure And Pain

When you’re a toddler, you acquire everyone and everything in your world are similar to you. That’s why you used to think your thrust animals get lonely if you didn’t play with them and that your parents would love your cartoons if they would just give them an opportunity. It’s a normal chapter of a kid’s proliferation and as this much smarter guy points out, we never certainly germinate out of it.

I mean, you probably recollect being a boy and hearing an amazing new song that shaped you want to punch-dance through a brick wall … and then you played it for a couple sidekicks and they just got that gross look on their faces. You know, the watch of nervously pretending to enjoy something loathsome? What follows is more awkward three minutes of your life, during which you find yourself going steadily angrier( “Why are they claiming not to like it? ” ). But eventually, you grow up and realize that not everyone likes the same things.

Years afterwards, you get the flu but ability through production anyway, rather than miss season. Then, a co-worker catches it and takes three sick daytimes. You roll your eyes and announce him a pussy, automatically assuming that the two of you two are find exactly the same indications, but that one of you was tougher.

The obvious concept you’ll be missing is that standing is at least as subjective as music. Hell, discipline even is indicated that redheads tend to feel more ache than everyone else, due to a genetic quirk. It appears that it’s the same for women, due to how pain signals are communicated to the girl intelligence. Meanwhile, people from colder parts of the world literally stop feeling the cold the method the rest of us do. Some beings almost never appear fear — not due to firmnes, but due to a collapse of certain types of contacts in the intelligence( they’re called sociopaths ). All of the hotshots that motivate us to haunt specific actions and avoid others actually feel totally different from person to person.

She can snow angel for hours on end, but needs an ER trip and three months of rehab after a snowball engage .

You’ll shrug and say, “Of course, everyone known to be, you turdthinker, ” but five minutes after reading such articles, you’ll act in a way that substantiates you don’t. I’ve had fit acquaintances get annoyed with me when I say I’ve never experienced the “runner’s high” euphoria that comes with hard exercise. They say it’s because I’m not pushing myself hard enough, while science says some people are just physically incapable of appearing it. So, are my friends fit because they’re more dedicated than I am, or do they just enjoy the “high” of employ? They clearly want the former to be true. My thin acquaintances don’t like to admit that there’s a hormone that moves you starving and that some people simply have more of it.

That’s because formerly you accept the idea that it rightfully would feel completely different to live inside another person’s form, everything changes. After all, at what point can you safely accuse person for, well, anything?

# 4. We Don’t Realize The Battle Inside

I know what you’re saying. I ever know. “Oh, so you’re one of those buttholes who say nothing is anybody’s blame, because those poor souls are helpless to refuse their caprices? So, when somebody tortures a child to fatality, we’re supposed to give him a hug and say he couldn’t used to help? Is that it, butthole? You are the hole of a butt.”

No! You altogether are defined by how good of a position you do opposing your pernicious exhorts and overcoming hurting. Maturation is an issue of getting better at it; success is an issue of mastering it. Beating back the urge to procrastinate, to cease, to be lazy … that’s how you reach the top, child! Buy my notebook !

But …

You know that person at the part who’s ever furious? He blew up last month because soul lost an invoice. Last Christmas, he lost his shit because he thought somebody stole his lunch out of the fridge. You check him throw his outbursts and marvel at how immature he is. After all, you get angry, very, but you ensure it! Hell, you’ve had people plagiarize your lunch tons of periods, and you’ve never kicked a trashcan so difficult that it left a dent and realise the secretary cry.

Sure, you’ve fantasized about shitting in the culprit’s yogurt and blaming it on the apprentice, but you’ve never actually done it .

However, here’s the thing: From your outcome, he’s “always” angry. From his culminate, he’s had two blowups spread across several months and, in between those incidents, he successfully resisted the recommend to explode 162 experiences . His anger urges come more frequently than yours, and he experiences them more strongly. For him, every “normal” day is the result of a hard-won duel … but, you merely see when he loses. He find himself as the hero of his own life, battered and bruised by his personal demons. You envision him as a ridiculous manchild who loves to discover himself yell. You detest his unstable, feelings ass.

Or, you witness the space your depressed sidekick goes residence from operate and immediately clangs on the sofa, refusing to go out or do anything recreation. You dislike the acces she merely … affords up and refuses to even talking here it. Invisible to you is the merciless attempt she exerted precisely to make it through wreak. So, you get annoyed. Or, you find your marriage “feel like i m cheating on” you. You didn’t investigate all of the dozens of hours he had the exhort and fought. You merely encounter the moment he lastly demonstrated in. And you want to fucking kill him for it.

Basically half of all country music jobs are started this way .

And because you exclusively established up in the consequences of the these combats, they believe your grumbles to be the equivalent of some bureaucrats intimidating Arnold Schwarzenegger’s character after the events of Predator . “Why did you blow up a whole jungle, asshole? Your whole gang is dead, and it’s your flaw! No, I don’t want to hear your apologizes! Whose arm is this? “

“Fuck the chopper, your ass is getting to the unemployment path! ”

# 3. … But We’ll Usually Forgive Ourselves For The Same Failure

Here’s a question I bet you’ve never stopped to ask: Why is it an insult to allege officers of adoration doughnuts? Or to joke about how black people affection fried chicken or watermelon?

And simply clearly stated, those are reviles( in the U.S ., at the least ). If a officer plucks you over and you tell him, “Hey, you know the doughnut shop shuts at 8 p. m ., you better move, ” you know you’re pee-pee him off. If a grey buster moves up to groupings of black people standing on a street corner and says, “What, did somebody sag a barrel of fried chicken? ” he knows he’s trying to start a fight.

One that’ll end with him complaining online that nobody but him has a sense of humor anymore . But, why is it an offend? It’s not like the behaviour itself is vile — right now, there’s some grey buster sitting in a Popeyes Chicken restaurant snickering to his friends because a group of pitch-black guys trodden in. “Ha, how did I know they’d be here! I potted they’d rioting if this neighbourhood closed down! ” — literally taunting their desire of fried chicken through a sip of fried chicken. Well, what you’re find is a ritual we all go through in order to reassure ourselves. “Theres” two steps to it TAGEND

For the first, imagine a group of friends sitting around and sharing embarrassing fibs. As many of you know, during filming of the TV present Nashville , I was accidentally captured in the backdrop of a shot urinating into a fountain. So, I will tell that storey among friends, because I know someone else will immediately try to top it( “One age, ” says John, “I was pissing in the lavatory during a White House tour, and the president strolled in and I inadvertently turned around and pissed on him! I think some of it got in his lip! ” ). The aim is to reassure each other that our lives are screwed up in exactly the same way.

“For the record, John wholly plagiarized that storey from me.”

But, then comes the second largest part of the ritual, in which we’ll jest at somebody else’s screw-ups in a completely unforgiving and mean-spirited room, strictly to reassure ourselves that their failures aren’t like ours. “My family went to India a couple of years ago. All of the streets reek like piss! Merely a disgusting people — they’re like swine! “

This is why I invested my first got a couple of decades of life stimulating gay laughs with my small-town peers. For a cluster of guys scared of what their hormones were doing to them( “they can never know I jerked off to a Sports Illustrated article about beach volleyball! ” ), it was very reassuring to sit around and say, “Man, are you able dream going turned on by buster laughingstock ? ” It’s the same reason we would laugh at a friend’s messy copulation legends( “So, then I wake up and roll over — I’m like, I don’t even know this chick! She looked like fucking Richard Belzer! “) and then immediately talking here what worthless sluts those cheerleaders are. The theme? Our uncontrollable compulsions are lighthearted recreation, theirs are a signaling of weakness and degeneracy.

“Can you believe Richard Belzer just takes these pics that guys like us is likely to be masturbate to? God, what a Hollywood closet case.”

Thus, the “fried chicken” gags. The consequence is that, where my consumption of deep-fried chicken is just a ordinary buster gobbling an incredibly favourite American bowl, their uptake is due to a atrocious cultural failure to control their pushes. It shifts them into cartoonish gluttons, with no more self-control than pups. It’s the same reason my high school gay parodies often implied that homosexuals are ravenous rapists who can’t control their immorality( “When you’re in the cupboard chamber with Kevin, don’t deflect over for the soap! ” ).

But, in addition to causing us to be dicks to other people, this double standard too symbolizes …

# 2. You’re Constantly Getting Blindsided By Your Own Weaknesses

There’s this thing everybody does the first time they have to sit down and write up a budget. They’ll plan everything down to the penny — the really smart ones will even set aside some fund for disaster gondola restores and those sorts of things. But, they are able to also completely fail to plan for one important category TAGEND

Fucking up.

I’m talking about the weekend when you’re so depressed that you only buy a shitload of day-old grocery store donuts and eat all of them yourself. I’m talking about the eBay auction you acquire thanks to a drunken late-night offer, or the expensive talent bought for a special a person who has you detect doesn’t looks just like you back, or the dumb impulse buys you’ll inevitably become when you’re get over the breakup and want some kind of shining spot in their own lives( maybe it’ll be a puppy next time !).

“I’m not going to name you, so I’ll feel less guilty when you have to be returned.”

“Well, I precisely won’t do those happenings, ” you’ll say, “now that I have a fund! ” See, Future You goes tagged with the same ludicrous belief we make about strangers: All motivations can easily be overcome with a little effort. Future You won’t oblige dumb purchases to deaden desolate moods! That shit is what Old You did — from here on out, it’s smooth sailing!

And when you start dating mortal new, you never envisage, “This will be a good person to handle my alternating irritation outbursts and emotional cold spells six months after now! ” You’ll instead suppose yourself being awesome and stable, eternally. And when job opportunities comes up to take on a second place, one that would eliminate both sleep and your social life? “No problem! Future Me doesn’t get sleepy or lonely! Future Me is a robot that works with absolute precision and reliability! “

“Ho Hos from the vending machine are the only Christmas dinner I need tonight.”

Oh, sure, there are parties out there who run the opposite room, who joke about how they’re precisely a loser destined to wind up old and drunkard. But, frequently, the precise reasonablenes they’re down is because they’re repeatedly disappointed by how they screw up in the same roads again and again. Their own weaknesses continue to astonish them, since they are refuse to be realistic about how strong the desires are by comparison. Here’s a relevant time for those of you who want a brief YouTube snap TAGEND

It’s hard-handed, if not impossible, to make peace with the fact that we are always going to fuck up on occasion. And, at health risks of going taken out of situation, I’ve got to say that this has really facilitated me realize Satan.

That concept of a tempter who can work from inside your very mind, offering up short-term gratifications in exchange for long-term destruction … it prepares feel. I don’t mean as a literal being, but as a course to facilitate step outside yourself in those critical time. You get an urge and you stop to say, “Is this the devil, tempting me? ” It realise you suspicious of your short-term indulgings — the starvation, the rage, the selfishness — all that shit that will devastates your relationships and health in the long run. When someone else screws up, you can see them as a fellow casualty of the Dark Lord himself, deserving of sympathy.

But, you know, there’s a intellect Christians still cheat on their spouses and booze themselves to fatality. All they were required to do is change the focus to other people and keep it there( “Gays are just heterosexuals who’ve been invited into sin by the Devil! ” ). Hey, be talking about which …

# 1. We Give Clueless, Bullshit Solutions … And Then Get Angry When They Don’t Work

That last thing is probably the most perfect portrait of what I’m talking about in this article. Why do Christians seem so obsessed with homosexuality? Why have they decided lesbian marriage is the one issue capable of exterminating the light of the righteous from the universe eternally?

Because it’s the ultimate exam of the “Everyone knows the same temptations” fallacy.

If you sit down a cluster of anxious and tired people and start proclaiming to them about their fragilities( desire, gluttony, petty savagery, adultery ), you get lots of vexed folks altering uncomfortably in the pews. But, when you take that same mob and preach against lures they never find, if you rail against the “gay agenda” and Muslims and the depravity of Hollywood, now you get some ovations and “Amens” flowing your room. “Let us all congratulate ourselves for not succumbing to the push to change our sexual orientation or transformed into Islam! We are truly badass fighters of goodnes! “

“Like Jesus before me, I genuinely have the eye of the beast! ”

And obligate no mistake, having grown up in an evangelical church, up until my 20 s I knew exactly how to solve the lesbian wedding act: Simply give them the same rights as everyone else. And by that, I signify the right to marry the opposite fornication. I swear it built appreciation at the time and, because you presumably did not just start reading the clause right here, you already know why. Everyone, I was told, is actually a heterosexual — God said so. Thus, “gay” people simply have a funny fetish for the same fornication that they can get over with a bit tradition. If you’d told me that my homophobia was itself the result of my own bad caprices( including an overdeveloped gumption of disgust that’s common to social reactionaries ), I’d have gazed at you like you’d precisely puckered your cheeks and realized one steady fart noise. ” My behavior isn’t due to uncontrollable impulses! I’m a fully functional human being, with a person, who constitutes moral selects! “

And if you’d told me that not only is what they’re doing not immoral, but that if I swopped organizations with them, I’d be just as gay , if not more so? Hopeless. For me, at the time, the implications would have been shattering.

You’d have gotten a similar mind from me considering anyone outside my own group, in fact. If you’d driven me through the projects, I’d have calmly explained that if I was born there, I’d get a part-time job, save up some money, and move the hell out! I stepped around every day patting myself on the back for overcoming counsels I didn’t even detect, to make myself feel right about the ones I was giving in to on a daily basis. My years of asshole know-how are probably why I’m so fascinated with the Internet’s fat-hating obsession today. I return it up a lot, and it’s because each time some clueless 20 time old-fashioned says, “Losing weight is simple: It’s calories in, calories out! All you need is a little self-respect! ” I smile and nod and think, “Yep, that was me! I thought that same condescending bullshit! “

Spoiler: I was incorrect .

But, I attest that even experts acquire the same damned mistake, and always will. Pick any theme. Like the obesity stuff — we’ll listen a new possibility every month about whether fighting obesity is about cutting carbs, or paunch, or sugar, or precisely dismissing it all and cutting calories. They rarely seem to factor in the only thing that really subjects: which diet doesn’t leave you starving. Because if you’re getting pummeled with emptines insists, you will succumb. This is why exercise doesn’t induce you lose weight — exercise ignites calories but also clears you hungrier. And exactly 100 percentage of humans have a doorstep at which they no longer have the force to repel an exhort. I don’t care who you are — if the president himself got thirsty enough, he’d be begging John to pee-pee in his lip. It’s science.

It would also be a great style to choose who in the field really wants to be president .

Or what about violation? Statistically, if you grew up under certain circumstances, you’re far more likely to turn into war criminals. Now, cue the anecdotes: “Well, I grew up in the rough part of city, and I never so much as got a rushing ticket! ” See, because their impulse to commit crimes is surely no more powerful than ours, and our clean register is, hence, proof that we’re Gandhi. So, why lift a finger to improve those Ferguson “thugs” change “peoples lives”? None helped us! Better to retain a handgun under the couch and imagine about filming them when they break in.

“Well now, wait a second, ” you say, “that simply draws us back to the blame question that “youve never” got around to reacting. If we can’t genuinely know how hard individual pushed the motive to do the shitty happening he only did, then how do we know when it’s okay to call him an asshole ? “

Hmmm. Good subject. Here’s someone babying a minuscule owl.

The post 5 Harsh Truths That Will Make You Less Of A Jerk appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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[apsbicepstraining]

5 Harsh Truths That Will Make You Less Of A Jerk

Humanity is principally defined by its is no way to seize the obvious. So, let me ask you this TAGEND

What is the most obviously wrong shit that beings feel on a daily basis that — wait for it — you too believe ?

I’m talking about something that you know on an intellectual level is incorrect, but five minutes after being reminded of it, you forget again. If you can’t think about one, well, I gamble I can. And it comes back to burn you in the proverbial ass method more frequently than you think …

# 5. We Are Privately Sure Everyone Feels The Same Pleasure And Pain

When you’re a toddler, you acquire everyone and everything in your world are similar to you. That’s why you used to think your thrust animals get lonely if you didn’t play with them and that your parents would love your cartoons if they would just give them an opportunity. It’s a normal chapter of a kid’s proliferation and as this much smarter guy points out, we never certainly germinate out of it.

I mean, you probably recollect being a boy and hearing an amazing new song that shaped you want to punch-dance through a brick wall … and then you played it for a couple sidekicks and they just got that gross look on their faces. You know, the watch of nervously pretending to enjoy something loathsome? What follows is more awkward three minutes of your life, during which you find yourself going steadily angrier( “Why are they claiming not to like it? ” ). But eventually, you grow up and realize that not everyone likes the same things.

Years afterwards, you get the flu but ability through production anyway, rather than miss season. Then, a co-worker catches it and takes three sick daytimes. You roll your eyes and announce him a pussy, automatically assuming that the two of you two are find exactly the same indications, but that one of you was tougher.

The obvious concept you’ll be missing is that standing is at least as subjective as music. Hell, discipline even is indicated that redheads tend to feel more ache than everyone else, due to a genetic quirk. It appears that it’s the same for women, due to how pain signals are communicated to the girl intelligence. Meanwhile, people from colder parts of the world literally stop feeling the cold the method the rest of us do. Some beings almost never appear fear — not due to firmnes, but due to a collapse of certain types of contacts in the intelligence( they’re called sociopaths ). All of the hotshots that motivate us to haunt specific actions and avoid others actually feel totally different from person to person.

She can snow angel for hours on end, but needs an ER trip and three months of rehab after a snowball engage .

You’ll shrug and say, “Of course, everyone known to be, you turdthinker, ” but five minutes after reading such articles, you’ll act in a way that substantiates you don’t. I’ve had fit acquaintances get annoyed with me when I say I’ve never experienced the “runner’s high” euphoria that comes with hard exercise. They say it’s because I’m not pushing myself hard enough, while science says some people are just physically incapable of appearing it. So, are my friends fit because they’re more dedicated than I am, or do they just enjoy the “high” of employ? They clearly want the former to be true. My thin acquaintances don’t like to admit that there’s a hormone that moves you starving and that some people simply have more of it.

That’s because formerly you accept the idea that it rightfully would feel completely different to live inside another person’s form, everything changes. After all, at what point can you safely accuse person for, well, anything?

# 4. We Don’t Realize The Battle Inside

I know what you’re saying. I ever know. “Oh, so you’re one of those buttholes who say nothing is anybody’s blame, because those poor souls are helpless to refuse their caprices? So, when somebody tortures a child to fatality, we’re supposed to give him a hug and say he couldn’t used to help? Is that it, butthole? You are the hole of a butt.”

No! You altogether are defined by how good of a position you do opposing your pernicious exhorts and overcoming hurting. Maturation is an issue of getting better at it; success is an issue of mastering it. Beating back the urge to procrastinate, to cease, to be lazy … that’s how you reach the top, child! Buy my notebook !

But …

You know that person at the part who’s ever furious? He blew up last month because soul lost an invoice. Last Christmas, he lost his shit because he thought somebody stole his lunch out of the fridge. You check him throw his outbursts and marvel at how immature he is. After all, you get angry, very, but you ensure it! Hell, you’ve had people plagiarize your lunch tons of periods, and you’ve never kicked a trashcan so difficult that it left a dent and realise the secretary cry.

Sure, you’ve fantasized about shitting in the culprit’s yogurt and blaming it on the apprentice, but you’ve never actually done it .

However, here’s the thing: From your outcome, he’s “always” angry. From his culminate, he’s had two blowups spread across several months and, in between those incidents, he successfully resisted the recommend to explode 162 experiences . His anger urges come more frequently than yours, and he experiences them more strongly. For him, every “normal” day is the result of a hard-won duel … but, you merely see when he loses. He find himself as the hero of his own life, battered and bruised by his personal demons. You envision him as a ridiculous manchild who loves to discover himself yell. You detest his unstable, feelings ass.

Or, you witness the space your depressed sidekick goes residence from operate and immediately clangs on the sofa, refusing to go out or do anything recreation. You dislike the acces she merely … affords up and refuses to even talking here it. Invisible to you is the merciless attempt she exerted precisely to make it through wreak. So, you get annoyed. Or, you find your marriage “feel like i m cheating on” you. You didn’t investigate all of the dozens of hours he had the exhort and fought. You merely encounter the moment he lastly demonstrated in. And you want to fucking kill him for it.

Basically half of all country music jobs are started this way .

And because you exclusively established up in the consequences of the these combats, they believe your grumbles to be the equivalent of some bureaucrats intimidating Arnold Schwarzenegger’s character after the events of Predator . “Why did you blow up a whole jungle, asshole? Your whole gang is dead, and it’s your flaw! No, I don’t want to hear your apologizes! Whose arm is this? “

“Fuck the chopper, your ass is getting to the unemployment path! ”

# 3. … But We’ll Usually Forgive Ourselves For The Same Failure

Here’s a question I bet you’ve never stopped to ask: Why is it an insult to allege officers of adoration doughnuts? Or to joke about how black people affection fried chicken or watermelon?

And simply clearly stated, those are reviles( in the U.S ., at the least ). If a officer plucks you over and you tell him, “Hey, you know the doughnut shop shuts at 8 p. m ., you better move, ” you know you’re pee-pee him off. If a grey buster moves up to groupings of black people standing on a street corner and says, “What, did somebody sag a barrel of fried chicken? ” he knows he’s trying to start a fight.

One that’ll end with him complaining online that nobody but him has a sense of humor anymore . But, why is it an offend? It’s not like the behaviour itself is vile — right now, there’s some grey buster sitting in a Popeyes Chicken restaurant snickering to his friends because a group of pitch-black guys trodden in. “Ha, how did I know they’d be here! I potted they’d rioting if this neighbourhood closed down! ” — literally taunting their desire of fried chicken through a sip of fried chicken. Well, what you’re find is a ritual we all go through in order to reassure ourselves. “Theres” two steps to it TAGEND

For the first, imagine a group of friends sitting around and sharing embarrassing fibs. As many of you know, during filming of the TV present Nashville , I was accidentally captured in the backdrop of a shot urinating into a fountain. So, I will tell that storey among friends, because I know someone else will immediately try to top it( “One age, ” says John, “I was pissing in the lavatory during a White House tour, and the president strolled in and I inadvertently turned around and pissed on him! I think some of it got in his lip! ” ). The aim is to reassure each other that our lives are screwed up in exactly the same way.

“For the record, John wholly plagiarized that storey from me.”

But, then comes the second largest part of the ritual, in which we’ll jest at somebody else’s screw-ups in a completely unforgiving and mean-spirited room, strictly to reassure ourselves that their failures aren’t like ours. “My family went to India a couple of years ago. All of the streets reek like piss! Merely a disgusting people — they’re like swine! “

This is why I invested my first got a couple of decades of life stimulating gay laughs with my small-town peers. For a cluster of guys scared of what their hormones were doing to them( “they can never know I jerked off to a Sports Illustrated article about beach volleyball! ” ), it was very reassuring to sit around and say, “Man, are you able dream going turned on by buster laughingstock ? ” It’s the same reason we would laugh at a friend’s messy copulation legends( “So, then I wake up and roll over — I’m like, I don’t even know this chick! She looked like fucking Richard Belzer! “) and then immediately talking here what worthless sluts those cheerleaders are. The theme? Our uncontrollable compulsions are lighthearted recreation, theirs are a signaling of weakness and degeneracy.

“Can you believe Richard Belzer just takes these pics that guys like us is likely to be masturbate to? God, what a Hollywood closet case.”

Thus, the “fried chicken” gags. The consequence is that, where my consumption of deep-fried chicken is just a ordinary buster gobbling an incredibly favourite American bowl, their uptake is due to a atrocious cultural failure to control their pushes. It shifts them into cartoonish gluttons, with no more self-control than pups. It’s the same reason my high school gay parodies often implied that homosexuals are ravenous rapists who can’t control their immorality( “When you’re in the cupboard chamber with Kevin, don’t deflect over for the soap! ” ).

But, in addition to causing us to be dicks to other people, this double standard too symbolizes …

# 2. You’re Constantly Getting Blindsided By Your Own Weaknesses

There’s this thing everybody does the first time they have to sit down and write up a budget. They’ll plan everything down to the penny — the really smart ones will even set aside some fund for disaster gondola restores and those sorts of things. But, they are able to also completely fail to plan for one important category TAGEND

Fucking up.

I’m talking about the weekend when you’re so depressed that you only buy a shitload of day-old grocery store donuts and eat all of them yourself. I’m talking about the eBay auction you acquire thanks to a drunken late-night offer, or the expensive talent bought for a special a person who has you detect doesn’t looks just like you back, or the dumb impulse buys you’ll inevitably become when you’re get over the breakup and want some kind of shining spot in their own lives( maybe it’ll be a puppy next time !).

“I’m not going to name you, so I’ll feel less guilty when you have to be returned.”

“Well, I precisely won’t do those happenings, ” you’ll say, “now that I have a fund! ” See, Future You goes tagged with the same ludicrous belief we make about strangers: All motivations can easily be overcome with a little effort. Future You won’t oblige dumb purchases to deaden desolate moods! That shit is what Old You did — from here on out, it’s smooth sailing!

And when you start dating mortal new, you never envisage, “This will be a good person to handle my alternating irritation outbursts and emotional cold spells six months after now! ” You’ll instead suppose yourself being awesome and stable, eternally. And when job opportunities comes up to take on a second place, one that would eliminate both sleep and your social life? “No problem! Future Me doesn’t get sleepy or lonely! Future Me is a robot that works with absolute precision and reliability! “

“Ho Hos from the vending machine are the only Christmas dinner I need tonight.”

Oh, sure, there are parties out there who run the opposite room, who joke about how they’re precisely a loser destined to wind up old and drunkard. But, frequently, the precise reasonablenes they’re down is because they’re repeatedly disappointed by how they screw up in the same roads again and again. Their own weaknesses continue to astonish them, since they are refuse to be realistic about how strong the desires are by comparison. Here’s a relevant time for those of you who want a brief YouTube snap TAGEND

It’s hard-handed, if not impossible, to make peace with the fact that we are always going to fuck up on occasion. And, at health risks of going taken out of situation, I’ve got to say that this has really facilitated me realize Satan.

That concept of a tempter who can work from inside your very mind, offering up short-term gratifications in exchange for long-term destruction … it prepares feel. I don’t mean as a literal being, but as a course to facilitate step outside yourself in those critical time. You get an urge and you stop to say, “Is this the devil, tempting me? ” It realise you suspicious of your short-term indulgings — the starvation, the rage, the selfishness — all that shit that will devastates your relationships and health in the long run. When someone else screws up, you can see them as a fellow casualty of the Dark Lord himself, deserving of sympathy.

But, you know, there’s a intellect Christians still cheat on their spouses and booze themselves to fatality. All they were required to do is change the focus to other people and keep it there( “Gays are just heterosexuals who’ve been invited into sin by the Devil! ” ). Hey, be talking about which …

# 1. We Give Clueless, Bullshit Solutions … And Then Get Angry When They Don’t Work

That last thing is probably the most perfect portrait of what I’m talking about in this article. Why do Christians seem so obsessed with homosexuality? Why have they decided lesbian marriage is the one issue capable of exterminating the light of the righteous from the universe eternally?

Because it’s the ultimate exam of the “Everyone knows the same temptations” fallacy.

If you sit down a cluster of anxious and tired people and start proclaiming to them about their fragilities( desire, gluttony, petty savagery, adultery ), you get lots of vexed folks altering uncomfortably in the pews. But, when you take that same mob and preach against lures they never find, if you rail against the “gay agenda” and Muslims and the depravity of Hollywood, now you get some ovations and “Amens” flowing your room. “Let us all congratulate ourselves for not succumbing to the push to change our sexual orientation or transformed into Islam! We are truly badass fighters of goodnes! “

“Like Jesus before me, I genuinely have the eye of the beast! ”

And obligate no mistake, having grown up in an evangelical church, up until my 20 s I knew exactly how to solve the lesbian wedding act: Simply give them the same rights as everyone else. And by that, I signify the right to marry the opposite fornication. I swear it built appreciation at the time and, because you presumably did not just start reading the clause right here, you already know why. Everyone, I was told, is actually a heterosexual — God said so. Thus, “gay” people simply have a funny fetish for the same fornication that they can get over with a bit tradition. If you’d told me that my homophobia was itself the result of my own bad caprices( including an overdeveloped gumption of disgust that’s common to social reactionaries ), I’d have gazed at you like you’d precisely puckered your cheeks and realized one steady fart noise. ” My behavior isn’t due to uncontrollable impulses! I’m a fully functional human being, with a person, who constitutes moral selects! “

And if you’d told me that not only is what they’re doing not immoral, but that if I swopped organizations with them, I’d be just as gay , if not more so? Hopeless. For me, at the time, the implications would have been shattering.

You’d have gotten a similar mind from me considering anyone outside my own group, in fact. If you’d driven me through the projects, I’d have calmly explained that if I was born there, I’d get a part-time job, save up some money, and move the hell out! I stepped around every day patting myself on the back for overcoming counsels I didn’t even detect, to make myself feel right about the ones I was giving in to on a daily basis. My years of asshole know-how are probably why I’m so fascinated with the Internet’s fat-hating obsession today. I return it up a lot, and it’s because each time some clueless 20 time old-fashioned says, “Losing weight is simple: It’s calories in, calories out! All you need is a little self-respect! ” I smile and nod and think, “Yep, that was me! I thought that same condescending bullshit! “

Spoiler: I was incorrect .

But, I attest that even experts acquire the same damned mistake, and always will. Pick any theme. Like the obesity stuff — we’ll listen a new possibility every month about whether fighting obesity is about cutting carbs, or paunch, or sugar, or precisely dismissing it all and cutting calories. They rarely seem to factor in the only thing that really subjects: which diet doesn’t leave you starving. Because if you’re getting pummeled with emptines insists, you will succumb. This is why exercise doesn’t induce you lose weight — exercise ignites calories but also clears you hungrier. And exactly 100 percentage of humans have a doorstep at which they no longer have the force to repel an exhort. I don’t care who you are — if the president himself got thirsty enough, he’d be begging John to pee-pee in his lip. It’s science.

It would also be a great style to choose who in the field really wants to be president .

Or what about violation? Statistically, if you grew up under certain circumstances, you’re far more likely to turn into war criminals. Now, cue the anecdotes: “Well, I grew up in the rough part of city, and I never so much as got a rushing ticket! ” See, because their impulse to commit crimes is surely no more powerful than ours, and our clean register is, hence, proof that we’re Gandhi. So, why lift a finger to improve those Ferguson “thugs” change “peoples lives”? None helped us! Better to retain a handgun under the couch and imagine about filming them when they break in.

“Well now, wait a second, ” you say, “that simply draws us back to the blame question that “youve never” got around to reacting. If we can’t genuinely know how hard individual pushed the motive to do the shitty happening he only did, then how do we know when it’s okay to call him an asshole ? “

Hmmm. Good subject. Here’s someone babying a minuscule owl.

The post 5 Harsh Truths That Will Make You Less Of A Jerk appeared first on apsbicepstraining.com.

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