#tw: child raising

[sonnyinthesky]

Shout out to people who can't have kids. Not because theyre infertile or otherwise physically incapable of making a child, but those who cant have kids because they couldnt take care of them in the way they deserve.

To disabled people who would be unable to care for a child due to their disability

To mentally ill people who would be unable to care for a child due to their mental health

To violent people who wouldn't be able to stop themselves being violent towards their child

To autistic people whos meltdowns would stop them looking after a child / would make them violent to their child

To addicts who wouldn't be able to look after a child because of their addiction/the consequences of their addiction

To intellectually disabled people who wouldnt know how to look after a child safely and would not be able to learn

To those that require so much care themselves that they could not care for another

To those with mood swings who may lash out at a child and can't raise children because of that

To people with their own childhood trauma who fear their own trauma would cause them to not raise a child safely

To people with childhood trauma that feel having a child would turn them into their abuser

Theres too much stigma around those of us who cant/shouldnt raise kids. Theres nothing inherently bad about not being a safe person to raise children. It's also okay to want kids even if you know you couldn't raise them! It's okay to be sad about it. You are seen and heard and deserve the comfort and support you need.

[nothing0fnothing]

Most parents decide they're going to use their child's innate naivety and trusting nature to instill a sense of wonder. Santa Claus, the tooth fairy, mermaids are real, Disneyland. All that.

My parents used it to create an invisible panopticon that only existed in my mind so they could easily deny its existence if I reported it to anybody.

Basically, was told at a very young age, that there were tiny hidden cameras I couldn't see everywhere in my home, and in my clothes, and in my school. They gave my stepdad 24/7 round the clock acsess to view me whenever he wanted to. He said these cameras could not only record my face, voice and actions, but that they had special technology that could read and translate my very thoughts.

I was at the "mermaids and unicorns are real" age, so not only did all of this seem totally plausible, it terrified me. I was changing under the covers of my bed, worried he could see me on the toilet or in the shower, and worst of all I started monitoring and censoring my own thoughts, convinced he could hear every one of them.

My mum noticed I had started taking longer to get dressed and ready than I used to, and asked why I was wasting time trying to get dressed in bed. When I told her about the cameras she tried to convince me they weren't there, and even did a sweep of my room to prove it to me, but I didn't believe her. I thought my step dad had so much power he could even hide these mind reading micro cameras from other adults. She just kind of brushed it off, assuming this was some silly thing I'd be over in a week.

I wasn't.

He kept reminding me of them, so I continued to be scared of them.

The second time my mother heard of these invisible cameras were when another parent, concerned, told her about it.

See I'd been playing at her daughters house, and I was asking her to call my step dad to ask permission for every minor thing I did.

"Can you call my dad and ask if I'm allowed to play in the garden?" "Can you call my dad and ask if I'm allowed to watch TV?" "Can you call my dad and ask if I'm allowed ketchup on my chips?"

She would assure me she'd asked my mum and my mum said it was fine, but I was adamant it be my step father she call. Eventually, she asked me why I was so concerned about his permission to do these things I'd been doing fine every other time I'd been at her house.

"Because he's the one with the cameras."

I said it so naturally. Like every family had a parent who had the cameras and another who was under surveillance by them. I was worried that if I conveyed the frozen still fear I felt over these hidden cameras, it would seem that I had something to hide.

"There's no cameras in our house so you don't have to worry about it." She tried to convince me.

"Oh no, they're in my clothes" I said. "They're so tiny they could be in a zip or a button or on my shoe laces and nobody would know."

She was, understandably, freaked out by this.

I'm not sure if she beleived my step dad had just sent me bugged into her home like a pervert or something, but I think when I started talking about how it can hear my thoughts like a regular camera can record voices, she realised that this was something else.

My mum pretended that I'd made it up and was lying for attention, even though she knew I wasn't. She knew that her husband had been terrorising me with these fake omnipotent cameras for weeks to the point I was losing sleep and dreaming about them. It was just easier for her to paint me as some kind of freakishly and manipulative child. It was really messed up, this woman's daughter was my only friend, I'd be friendless and alone if she decided she didn't want her daughter learning this behaviour from me.

The last time it was brought up to her was by my aunt. I'd had a bonding day out with her that ended in me crying on her couch after dinner. I vented about the cameras and how much pressure they were putting on me. I said I felt scared to be out with anyone, because if my daddy was watching and he heard their thoughts and he didn't like them, he could stop them from ever seeing me again. I knew she didn't like him, and he didn't like her. All he needed was video proof that she thought bad things about him and he'd have the perfect excuse to cut her out of my life. I didn't want that, I loved my aunt dearly.

My mum tried to pull the same "oh she's just making it up for attention" bit, but my aunt knew my step dad, and she knew he was exactly crazy and twisted enough to torture me like that. She believed me over my mother, and after that I never heard about the cameras again.

Over the weeks I wasn't threatened with them, I slowly started to think about them less and less. And by the time I stopped thinking about them entirely, I'd stopped believing in tooth fairies and unicorns and high tech invisible cameras that could hear my thoughts.

I never forgot about them though.

[devotion-disorder]

Sorry I impregnated Kuuya he's having my child 😣

uh yea um. congrats!

[blackoutbugza]

quick! show me your design for one of the sides as kids!

i’ll go first :)

[camomileapplesyrup]

my father never really behaved like one. he was violent. he beat me and my mother. he cheated on her with hookers every night, and got off on the idea of assaulting them behind my mother's back. after my 4th birthday, he up and left. from then, my childhood with him was meeting a string of women from russia, all claiming to be engaged to him. no one stayed long enough but one woman. who became my stepmother.

we didn't like each other. as a small little girl, who watched her big professor father dancing around in suits all day and then slapping my mom before storming away, i didn't have much faith in my safety with this woman. i saw an evil lady, who was corrupting my father with her evil lady ways, turning him against me to prioritise her son who she brought with her. this illusion dropped one night during an argument that lasted hours.

after hurling an array of expensive china at each other, and slamming all the doors in their big house, my stepmother sat crying in our red armchair, repeatedly murmuring things in russian i wish i would have understood. my father saw me approaching and snarled at me. something along the lines of "don't entertain the attention seeking goose. she is playing the victim." as a young 13 year old girl, the only thing i could conjure up was "well, you hit her, dad. don't you think that's why she's crying?"

whatever happened after that was a blur. he went on a tirade at me, clearly bothered by the correction. he looked like a big, puffed up toad, in my memory. croaking unintelligibly with anger and offence. but, im his daughter after all. i didn't understand a thing, i yelled back at my father, attempting to mimic his emotionless-debate-arguing.

that night i saw my real mother in her.

my real mother, in the same house, who never cowered. never ran away, or cried without a glare. my mother who made sure i saw her slap back. slap back so hard it made my father stagger against the very same doorframe i stood.

amidst my heated conversation with my father, the woman whom i hated so much, called out my name. she looked at me and choked out a sentence i'll never forget. in her thick, russian accent, she said "you are a strong young woman. never cower in front of your dad, or any man who hurts you. thank you."

it was the first and last time she ever complimented me. for the first time, we saw each other for what we truly were. two women victimised by an abusive men, who shrunk into the very thing he wanted to avoid most. two women who respected each other enough, to stand up to him. no matter how far apart our worlds were, in that moment, we became the very core of our beings and forgot everything else.

i'll never forget her defeated voice, and tear stained face. i'll never forget what she gave me that day.

[mintflavouredwhump]

An eldest child whumpee who is always forced to be the 'role model' of their younger siblings while bearing the brunt of their parents' anger and expectations.

[sacrifical-lamb-core]

Jason peered down at Estelle with slightly confused, curious eyes. He leant down to her level and poked her slightly.

‘It’s 3? Really?’ Asked Jason?

‘It? You… you don’t call anyone that… let alone a child. And yeah. Estelle is three,’

She looked cute in a frilly pink dress, and was creaking around, babbling about something or other.

‘Is it going to like… do anything? It seems kind of complacent,’

‘You are so, so lucky i like you,’

[chiwhorei]

I am in heat idk what’s happening I want to be impregnated I want to have a BABY (we don’t want kids but a few times a year I have this crazy desire to be fucking INSEMINATED)

[epipens]

NI-KI Bite Me (2023)

[tabl3]

aj focused art piece

he's just chilling with his new family :)

[im1hangry1pjo]

Fuck Foster care -Valgrace

TW: Scars, Past abuse, Leo being traumatized, Foster Homes

"No, no, no, no, no where is it where is it!?" Leo frantically searched through the bathroom cabinets. "They're going to find out no, no they can't know anything" he thankfullyfound his contact. He looked at himself in the mirror. Leo wanted to throw up just by the sight of himself. His right eye was milky white with pink scaring slowly becoming more white around the center of the scar. He quickly looked away and opened the contact case. It only had one contact in it but he really only needed one. He slowly took it and placed it on his right eye but instead it fell on the ground and was ruined. "SHIT!" He accidentally yelled at the top of his lungs. He prayed to every god he could think of that no one heard that. He continued to search for his foundation to cover up any scars he could. "SHIT!" He heard Leo scream; it sounded like it came from the bathroom. Jason was horrified just by the thought of what happened he immediately got up and headed towards the bathroom. Thankfully it was unlocked but what he saw behind the door shocked him. Leo was in front of the mirror with a bottle of foundation with his sleeves rolled up there were scars all over them some of them looked self inflicted others looked like someone hit them with a glass bottle but when Jason looked at Leo's face gods his face. His right eye was milky white with pink scaring slowly becoming more white around the center of the scar. It looked like someone exploded something in the face. He couldn't look for too long cause if he did he would vomit. Leo was the first one to speak "I-I can explain" Jason pulled Leo into a hug before Leo could say anything. Leo was just stiff in his arms like he's never been hugged but now that I think about it whenever I hug him or anyone hugs him for that matter he immediately pushed them away so Jason hugged him as tight as he could savoring the moment. It took a few minutes but eventually he let Leo go "You're... you're not scared or disgusted of me" Leo asked shakily the tone he used broke my heart. I gently held his face "No you could never scare me or disgust me Darling" Jason continued cupping Leo's face in his hands.

He still loved me. Jason still loved me even though he saw my scars. I put my hands over his and just stared into his eyes. He looked heart broken and worried and a little angry. Jason took a deep breath and asked me "Who dared to hurt you" he said in a low growl that had loving undertone (Jason being raised by wolves moment) "umm you know how I went to a lot of foster homes well most of them weren't the best or you know straight up abusive." Leo admitted quietly. Jason seemed pissed " I love you so much and would never dare hurt you in any shape or capacity." He again growled so low Leo could feel it. "I know you Jason and I know if you somehow hurt me it was on accident and you would go on your hands and knees and beg for my forgiveness cause you're a dork and you love me" Leo flicked Jason's nose at the end of his long ass sentence. "Now can I go back to my make-up?" I questioned. Jason looked at me for a few seconds and then said this "No, you look better like this without the make-up you just look more real if that makes sense" "This fucking dork" I thought. "I think you're forgetting that no one else knows about this besides Piper" Leo told him with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Wait Piper knows!?"

[galarglory]

Gloria's father: Fillin Kearney

Gave Gloria her sense of adventure, love of camping & love of stories

Is a gambling addict

Left a 6 year old Gloria in the Wild Area alone for a week while he made bets at a pub in Motostoke on that year's Gym League.

Got a divorce from Gloria's mother not long after the above incident. Left the region to travel and 'find himself'. Also to escape his debts in the region.

Constantly asking Gloria's mother for money to pay off his debts. Gloria's mother has now stopped giving him money until he either visits Gloria or starts paying alimony.

Was repeatedly invited to watch Gloria's matches in the league, never showed up to any of the matches.

Doesn't even know that Gloria is now Galar's Champion

Gloria loves her father greatly & tries to contact him constantly.

Fillin does love Gloria a lot. He just loves his 'freedom' from responsibilities & gambling more.

He is currently in Kanto & indebt with Team Rocket due to repeated losses at the Game Corner in Celadon City.

[nothing0fnothing]

A lot of people don't understand that likeability is a massive decider in how we acsess the world, and how that disproportionately affects survivors of childhood abuse.

If we're likeable we get perks. We might get upgraded on our flight. We could get a little freebie here and there. Humans are social creatures. People like us, and in turn want to do nice things in hopes we will like them back. That's super cool. Win for humanity. Nice people deserve nice things. Everyone deserves a free latte or a slightly nicer hotel room as a treat.

But we don't just deal with this kind of social exchange for flights and lattes. Buying a car is a social interaction. Job interviews are social interactions. Doctors appointments are social interactions. Stop and searches or traffic stops are social interactions. If you're likeable, you will probably get a car for a fair price or a job you're qualified for. You will find it easier to get your doctor to listen to you or you might be able to charm your way out of a ticket. If you're not likeable, those things become harder for you.

So.. what? Karma. Good vibes. What goes around comes around. Be nice to people and they'll be nice to you, duh.

But likeability has very little to do with being nice. For most people, being likeable isn't in their control. If you're ugly or fat, if you're not white, if you're lower class, if you're disabled or neurodivergent, suddenly whether you're liked or not has very little to do with how you treat other people, it's about how they perceive you. It's painful when you just want people to like you, it's dangerous when you need them to.

This is why abusers attack their victims likeability.

Gaslighting. Smear campaigning. Public shaming. Isolating the victim till all their friends and family wonder why she suddenly thinks she's too good for them. It all puts a victim in a place where they fear they won't be believed not because they're not credible, but because they're no longer likeable. They're both social currencies, but when you need help and support, likeability always spends better.

Remember Depp v Heard? What was all that revenge porn and outright lying all about? It was about making Amber Heard; the young and beautiful, self educated multilingual, long time human rights champion and loving mother, unlikeable. It was all utter bullshit, but it worked. People were making memes out of her rape testimony. They swarmed her with hate outside the courthouse. They followed her home and posted feces through her letter box. His attorney joked publicly about all the ways she intentionally triggered Amber's PTSD moments before she was to face the world in the most public domestic abuse trial in history, and the public laughed with her. Depp, with the help of his high profile colleagues and incredibly expensive spin doc- I mean lawyers, made Amber unlikeable, and when people decided she was unlikeable they decided she must also be uncredible.

Abusive parents also have the power to make their victims unlikeable. They do this by consistently traumatising them into socially disparaged behaviour, while projecting to the world a picture of the perfect family dealing with a "problem child".

We have a picture in our heads of battered children as withdrawn, quiet little angels, sadly suffering in silence just waiting for someone to notice the pain in their eyes and save them. In real life, this is rarely the case. Most children who have experienced early life abuse are reactive and disruptive. They are defensive and quick to anger. They are loud or sarcastic and they don't respect authority. In short, they are mirrors of the environment that they deal with at home. Due to this, behavioural interventions outside of the home does very little to help, the root of the issue isn't being fixed. So they get reputations as difficult little shits.

These kids go out and interact with the world like the hurt and traumatised people that they are, and the people that are supposed to be their safety net by reporting any suspicions of abuse to CPS, simply don't. Why? Because we find the child less likable than their parents. So when the child says "help me, my home life is horrible", we compare our impression of them to our impression of their parents, and usually without even realising why, we don't take them seriously.

Paris Hilton is an adult survivor of childhood abuse and torture at the troubled teen wilderness programme. Now an adult she uses her platform to speak up, but on that platform she's also told some harrowing stories of how her reputation as a vapid, self serving mean girl/wild child once kept her silent. She wouldn't be believed and her pain would only be mocked or shamed if she spoke out sooner. It's only after years of rebuilding that reputation into one that better reflects who she is as an adult, people are ready to believe her now. Why? Because she wasn't likable then, but she is now.

The thing is, most of us don't grow up into beautiful, wealthy superstars who age like fine wine and are universally loved by every sane person on the planet. Some of us are traumatised as children, who grow into traumatised teens who grow into traumatised adults. Being a traumatised adult is better than being a traumatised teen in a lot of ways. Having the power to simply not speak to the people who abused us for all our formative years is a big one. Not needing the signature of those abusers to acsess things like shelter, sustenance, support and medical care is another. It's not all bad being an adult survivor. It's not easy either though.

Like, I'm only half joking when I say having a stable family you can rely on into your adulthood is a privilege. Most of us don't have that because the smear campaigns didn't just Thanos snap out of existence the moment we turned 18. Out extended families often still see us as the bratty, entitled, violent little shits our abusive parents have been telling them we are since we were walking. On top of that all those authority issues and behavioural issues and PTSD symptoms we had as kids are still there, because nobody believed us when we asked for help so we just never got it.

It has nothing to do with who we are as people, but we just give off "bad vibes." It makes us susceptible to revictimisation and it means when people see the resting bitch face or the anxious fidgeting or the deadpan tone of speaking, their natural human judgement meter decides they don't like us. So we don't get upgraded on the plane and we don't get free lattes and yeah we pay more for things like cars and services because the natural drive people have to give each other favors doesn't really work for us. So some of us don't get perks but that's okay, they're perks because not everyone gets them. It's not a big deal.

Accessing the world shouldn't be a perk of being untraumatised. But when we lose out on job opportunities because our interviewer finds a non traumatised person more likeable than us, it feels like it is. When we don't have a saftey net of familial support so it takes us longer to recover when we're down on our luck or just down in the dumps, it feels like it is. And when we are less likely to be believed when we are reporting either current or historic abuse, it feels like it is. And when we struggle to acsess medical care because our doctors associate typical behaviour of traumatised people with attention or drug seeking, it feels like it is.

[pallotdip]

you’re telling me these stars have cats in them

[strange-doll-child]

Me when I'm in a bad mood, so now she needs to suffer because of it

[uncanny-tranny]

I wish more people recognized that sometimes, parents don't make mistakes when their child ends up traumatized. Sometimes, parents deliberately make the choice to ignore or abuse their child or whatever the situation is. Parents are not immune from malicious intent just because that's their child they're behaving toward.

That is precisely why "but they're your parents!" doesn't work. If that was my parent, I was their child.