#have women ever spoken to a divorced woman that goes on to explain how fucked up it was and they lost their kids despite the other parent
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Men are disproportionately arrested in general. Or murdered. Or die in general.
What does it mean. What does it matter. There's hundreds of little topics everyone is discussing already that flood such sentences to the point there is no argument being made, just pointing out reality for the actual sake of doing so.
Women commit suicide far more than men, women are more likely to win in parental cases, women aren't arrested nearly as often.
Again, what does this do? We already have the mini topics being discussed, this is an amalgomation of everything that doesn't make you look smart.
I think that's what people need to realize. You're not smart for pointing out the obvious. You're not smart for mentioning it and running away. You're not smart when all you can do is point out flaws with no fixes.
So, I ask of you, what is the purpose, what is smart about it, and what does it accomplish, pointing out that all mass shootings have been by men.
Now don't misconstrue me here, I too see the statistic, and would like to be informed on why. Except I already am because since 2013 the internet has had a boner for discussing every topic into a political umbrella as possible.
So I know that Men have less mental healthcare, Men have less emotional resources, Men are belittled, mocked, and thrown away like trash for crying or showing anything other than masculine bravado. I know that Men are disproportionately arrested by police, I know that divorce is worse for Men. I've talked to men who's lives were upended by a false claim from a women and the court took her side until it became obvious it was a lie.
I've talked to men. Actually discussed and discourced with them. I actually know what a majority of men go through. Not just because it's been endlessly discussed since 2013, but because I and every possible male has lived it.
I don't hear about women losing their kids to an insane man who ends up killing them later after a court custody battle allowed the child to go with the obvious worst choice. I do hear about men in general getting their entire life upended over false claims of any variety. You know what else I hear about Men? Total lack of a support system.
Know what else I hear about Men? A constant struggle to not have the wrong perception of you, because that can mean your entire life.
Men have to pay alimony even in ridiculous circumstances. Men lose their kids more often than women.
So with all this said, that hardly scratches any surface, it's far closer to pointing at the moon, Why is it, that all the mass shootings this year, have been done by men?
I mean, it's not like our systems give a fuck about men. It's not like Men have any outlets. It's not like Men are allowed to emotionally process without a court of law calling it irrational when they mean unmanly. It's not like the economy is destroyed, and women have ample opportunities for housing and mental healthcare, friends that'll take em in. There's women only homeless shelters, for a reason yes, but it goes to show.
Is the problem men? Personally, not trying to "both sides" this shit, but personally, I don't think inherently Men are all shooters, murderers and pedophiles. I think, and stick with me here, this country is broken from culture to government, from social to independant, this country is fucked. And despite progress socially, men are still the breadwinners in a majority of families. They are also, culturally pressured to be successful, rich, leave a legacy, own property and capitol, etc etc.
Women aren't expected shit culturally but being birth machines, and as fucked up as that is, no woman is going on a killing spree because of it. It's simply no where near the same pressure as males have to deal with. That's not to be offensive or to put down women, obviously there's shades of grey, but culturally, what are women really expected to accomplish? Get with a man, have a kid maybe.
So no. I don't see any importance in kicking in a door, dropping the statistic with literally no follow through, and running away screaming. I don't see the importance in devilizing all men and putting this weight onto them as if it's in their control.
Tell ya what, when the council of women can stop other women from false rape reports, the council of men will consider letting one (1) women commit a mass shooting.
Fuckin ridiculous. Drop statistics just to demonize. Why not just drop "despite making up" too? Wanna just look at numbers and ignore context? Did anyone who read that tweet ever speak to a man about their mental health and other slew of problems? No. They don't experience it, so don't care. The hypocrisy of feminism is not understanding the injustices of men to the point that when they see any man that breaks, or is unmanly, they are childish and unreasonable. Potentially murderous. They have no problems, they're on top! Those on top never deal with problems! (You're thinking of the rich, not men)
Really the only question that comes to everyone's mind is "what is wrong with men" much like the 13% argument also only leaves the same question to those of african descent. So. Why is it okay now? Why is it okay to point at a statistic without any surrounding information, frame it as poorly as you possibly can, unless you're just wanting to cause division between multiple groups?
It's not frustrating that it's men, I'd be annoyed regardless, animals, women, PoC, real statistics or not, what's frustrating is thinking you're smart for noticing a statistic, but not actually smart enough to offer anything but the number. Why? Answer that then post. Otherwise, it's just divisive and immature.
We went backwards because of that dipshit's tweet. It singlehandedly pushed republicans back further being posted unironically by lefties and to various lefty forums. Nobody. I repeat. N o b o d y, learned from this tweet. Nothing was gained by hostility. Just so they could feel smart. Totally worth the tweeter points...
#just boggles the mind#do women really simply not understand how much shit men deal with on a daily?#have women ever had to hold in tears before#for their entire life#have women ever had a false report tank their career and leave them homeless?#have women ever spoken to a divorced woman that goes on to explain how fucked up it was and they lost their kids despite the other parent#being a methhead?#have women#ever#spoken to men about their problems#the answer is unfortunately very much mostly no#because men speaking about their emotions gets their life upended#women and men#all races and ages#are not connected remotely as much as people seem to somehow believe#we're disconnected as fuck and our government fucks us all over in some way that causes sharp social issues and more#besides I thought we were going to be discussing the real problem with mass shootings#republicans#and guns#not men#fucks sake#the suicide by gun statistics is relevant too but meh#men#gotta focus on the REAL problems#not government failures#not social failures#not police failures#not cultural failures#just the council of men gatekeeping mass shootings#disturbed shit I simply will not understand
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👼Home Is Wherever I'm With You (Alice Macray)[NSFW]👼
Alice Macray x Fem!reader
👼Part 2 of SP getting reader pregnant👼
👼Wordcount: 2714👼
👼Posted on AO3: Read Here👼
👼Content: Fluff, some angst, homophobia, Phyllis and Alice's husband are trash garbage, some smut, strap-on, wlw magic, pregnancy, Alice is an angel, mentions of religion.👼
👼There was one person who never left your side though, even if it meant they were put in the firing path of Phyllis, and that was Alice. She, in all her sweet innocence, didn’t understand why it was such a big deal that you happened to like women, surely if God didn’t want the “lovely lgbts” then he wouldn’t have created them. Alice was religious, went to church on Sundays, said grace before eating, prayed before bed, but she wasn’t the type to go around telling people that they were sinning or judge them because they weren’t religious, if anything, she just wanted people to be happy.👼
It had been a number of years since you had moved to a slightly more progressive part of town, ever since Phyllis found out that you had – as she put it – “homosexual inclinations” it was made very clearly that you were no longer welcome in that area. And because she ruled with an iron-fist, no one dared to speak out against her, even if they had said to you in private that you were still the same wonderful person they had always known.
There was one person who never left your side though, even if it meant they were put in the firing path of Phyllis, and that was Alice. She, in all her sweet innocence, didn’t understand why it was such a big deal that you happened to like women, surely if God didn’t want the “lovely lgbts” then he wouldn’t have created them. Alice was religious, went to church on Sundays, said grace before eating, prayed before bed, but she wasn’t the type to go around telling people that they were sinning or judge them because they weren’t religious, if anything, she just wanted people to be happy.
It had hurt when you moved because you had grown close with Alice and her kids, even if her husband harboured ill feelings towards you because you were a “dyke” and “we can’t let our children around that dyke, Alice” but she managed to calm him down enough so that you could still come around. But you hadn’t seen Alice and the kids much since moving, and you missed them something wicked. Yes you had spoken to them, mainly Alice, on the phone but it was brief and happened very rarely. You missed her. You missed them.
The days where she called you had you wanting them to last forever, you could wander around your home just listening to her talk about how things were going, how much she enjoyed her job, how the kids were doing in school. You found yourself feeling like a high schooler talking to their crush after school on the phone, laying down on your bed with the dumbest grin on your face. However, that grin changed to a shocked expression when you let slip how you feel about her. “Alice, fuck – sorry I know you don’t like swearing but… Alice, I love you so much and I miss you, I miss being around you and being with the kids. It’s been miserable not being able to see you, but-“ you hear a sharp intake of breath “I- I’m sorry, I have to go.” Before the line goes dead.
Seven months, twelve days, thirteen hours, and fifteen minutes it had been since that call and you hadn’t heard from her. You weren’t usually the type to count these things, even when you had important events to look forward to, you wouldn’t count down the days. You guess it was some form of way to torture yourself, counting the length of time since you fucked up one of the few good things you still had in life. She was radiant like an angel, put the beauty of the moon to shame, and you- you were like a horseman of the apocalypse, ruining everything you touched. Maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, you haven’t ruined everything you touch but you certainly have relationship wise.
You had a few spare rooms in your house, you’d hoped that one day you would be able to have your own family, a bedroom for each kid: two bedrooms and one room as the nursery. No, that was a lie, you had dreamed about having Alice live with you - be with you – the boys would have their own rooms to decorate how they please (under the watchful eye of Alice) and… a nursery so you and Alice could have a child together, so that the boys would have a little sister (hopefully) to protect from the big kids.
To be honest, you had already started making renovations on the house so that it would be better suited for a family like that anyway, the bedrooms had a fresh coat of paint, nothing that was specifically catered to boys or girls – you wanted the kids to pick the colour themselves if they wanted a change – and made sure the windows had latches to prevent them from opening too far so that no one could fall out of them.
You were most proud of the kitchen though; it was your pride and joy of the entire property. That’s where you currently find yourself, applying the final sealing coat on the marble countertop so that no liquid seeps into the pores of the material. You had music playing through the radio, just loud enough to drown out the sound of the odd car that drove by. You were humming along to this when you heard the doorbell ring, this surprised you because not many people stopped round to your place, and if they did they would usually knock. You put the paintbrush in the sink and put the lid back onto the tin of sealant before you made your way over to the door. You didn’t bother to check your appearance or anything because you thought it was probably some girl scouts or a random, so in all your messy renovation glory you swung the door open to greet whoever was on the other side.
“Hi there, what can I-“ Your voice catches in your throat and colour rushes to your cheeks as you lay eyes on the woman before you. Now you were wishing you had at least wiped the sweat from your face and the grime from your hands.
“Hi… I- I know we- I know I haven’t spoken to you since…well…” She trails off quietly, looking down. You bite your bottom lip slightly and shake your head, willing the tears to remain unshed “It’s- It’s fine Alice, really. It’s in the past… You don’t need to explain yourself. It’s fine.” The older woman shakes her head and looks at you again, her eyes glistening slightly “I want to. Can- can I come in, please?”
You step back and hold the door open so she can make her way inside, closing and locking the door behind her before leading her to the lounge. “I- I wanted to apologise for hanging up the way I did…and for leaving your life without saying anything.” She takes a seat in an arm chair, hands immediately starting to fiddle with the cushion “I just- I didn’t- I don’t”
“You don’t feel the same way. I- I know. It’s okay. I- I got over most of the hurt-“
“No- no that’s not what I meant. I didn’t understand why you felt that way and- and I didn’t understand why I- why I” she shakes her head, her grip on the cushion tightening before she blurts out “why I felt something I hadn’t felt since the joy I felt when I had my boys.” She lets out a sob and buries her face in her hands as she starts crying.
You rush over to her and wrap your arms around her gently, rubbing her back as you hush her gently. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Shhh… It’s okay, Alice” She moves so she can hug you tight, burying her face in your shirt as she continues crying. “hey, hey it’s okay. It’ll be okay. Shhh.. It’s okay, Alice.” You continue rubbing her back, only slowing down more as her breathing starts to return to normal. “There we go, there we go. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
She doesn’t pull back but you hear her mumble out “my- my husband- ex… he- he found me crying after the call and he asked why. I- I told him that it- it was because I think I- I was in…love with someone else. A- A woman… And- and he” she lets out a sob before continuing “he told me how- how disgusting I- I am. That- that I was going to- to ruin my- my kids. We- He filed for divorce a few weeks later… It’s- it’s supposed to be split custody but- but I guess the boys like me more so- so they stay with me a majority of the time. They asked why I was so sad, why I didn’t bake apple pie as much anymore, why I- why I never called you. I didn’t answer them for so long, just- just said it was some- some trial that God was putting me through. But… a few days ago they asked again, and- and the looks in their eyes…” she lets out a bit of a laugh “they looked like they wouldn’t judge me no matter what I said, they- they really are my boys. So…I told them.”
Your breath catches and you still your movements before continuing, encouraging Alice to continue. “I told them everything. Well- well excluding what their father said about- about me. I just- I said that their father didn’t- didn’t approve of- of who I had…fallen in love with. They- they were confused and asked how it was possible for someone to- to fall in love when already married. I said sometimes- sometimes it happens and that it- it doesn’t mean I never loved their father, but I had discovered that- that maybe I…liked women. A woman. Gosh… You should’ve seen the looks on their face, it was like I’d given them their birthday presents early. I hadn’t even told them who but… they’re so wonderful.”
She pulls back and wipes her eyes on her sleeve, giving you a small smile “I told them that the woman I was- I am in love with is you. That- that I hadn’t known what to do so that’s why I was sad for so long because I just… Anyway… They said I was silly and should go tell you everything because they miss you and want to see me happy again.”
You blush deeply and look away, a shy smile settling on your lips before Alice gently turns your head to face her. “I- I love you, yn.” She leans in and tentatively brushes her lips against yours before kissing you, you gasp softly in shock before melting into the kiss.
One year, three months, two weeks, three days, and nine hours. That’s how long Alice and her boys – your boys – have been living with you for. After she kissed you that day, she asked if she could make love to you but emphasised that you would have to guide her because she’d never been with another woman. Alice was a quick learner and once she had a solid understanding of what you enjoyed…she made it very clear that she was the one in charge in the bedroom. This surprised you but you weren’t going to complain, if the love of your life wanted to be called “Miss” in the bedroom and boss you around, you bet your fucking ass you’re going to do just that. Although she did burst into tears after you went down on her because she didn’t know something like that was supposed to feel that good.
She asked you why there was an empty room one day while the boys were at tutoring, and you told her it was because you hoped to have a baby one day… Hopefully with her. She was shocked and had blushed profusely but the smile on her face reassured you she wasn’t put off by the idea. You said you knew it wouldn’t actually be possible for her to get you pregnant but you saw a fierce determination in her eyes that made you feel like she would find a way. Alice didn’t bring it up again for quite some time, and you didn’t press about it either, just put it down to her having forgotten or maybe not actually being into the idea.
One evening while the boys were at their fathers Alice said she had something to show you, said it was really important. When you walked into the bedroom you nearly choked on your bottled water, Alice was standing there, looking down as she adjusted - what appeared to be a strap-on – to fit her comfortably. She still had her simple white bra on but to you she still looked sexy, with or without clothing you were attracted to her; the look of utter concentration on her face made you giggle though, drawing her attention to you, a blush settling on her face as she smiles.
“I- Hi. I- So I did some… I did things to try and- and figure out if there was a way I could get you…pregnant… And- well, I know you don’t always come to church but- No I didn’t ask around church, silly. Every time I prayed, I asked for there to be a time where it would be possible for me to get you pregnant, so- so I could have a baby with the woman I love. And- and so it turns out that tonight is that night. I saw a sign, and I know that sounds cra-“ You cut her off with a deep and slow kiss, hands cupping her cheeks gently before you pull back “Alice, baby, nothing you say sounds crazy to me.”
She blushes more and flusters a bit before continuing “I saw a sign, well- well what I hope was one and knew that it would be possible tonight. That- that it would be possible for me to- to” she tears up, some tears spilling onto her cheeks which you wipe away gently “to get you pregnant so we can have our baby.” You sniffle a little, having teared up at her words “Alice… You’re so- you’re so wonderful. Please take me to bed, make- make love to me.”
Alice takes your hand in hers gently and leads you to your shared bed where she lays you down gently on it before crawling on top of you, her hand stroking your cheek gently. “I love you so much, yn.”
“I love you too, Alice.”
You looked up at the woman you loved, her hand ghosting gently between your legs and roaming over your body before she starts to remove your clothing, kissing your skin as each item is removed. She trails kisses up your thighs before moving up to kiss you, her lips were still sweet from the dessert she had made, her tongue slips between her lips and runs against your bottom lip before you part them to brush your tongue over hers, you both moaning at the feeling. A gasp falls from your lips when you feel her touch your slit, fingers rubbing your clit lightly before dipping the tips of two into your pussy.
“You make the most beautiful noises, my love.”
There had never been a moment before now where you had felt so much love when having sex with someone. It wasn’t only because your girlfriend had managed to find a way to try having a baby with you – having her baby, it was because there wasn't a single moment the entire night where the love in her eyes disappeared.
You wouldn’t know if Alice’s prayers had been heard until you took a pregnancy tests a few days later, but there was a feeling in your bones that made you think that things would work out – that you would have her baby. On the off chance, or more likely chance, that you didn’t get pregnant, that would be okay too. Your sweet Alice would probably try her best to find another way though, she was determined like that.
You and Alice both shared a nice bubble bath after your lovemaking, just enjoying being in each other’s arms. “Alice baby, I love you so much. Thank you for tonight. Thank you for coming back to me. Just- just thank you.” She hums softly in response, her eyes drifting closed “I love you too, Yn. I’d always find my way back to you anyway.” You press a kiss to her head, enjoying the feeling of being content and happy with a woman you love, and with the chance of being pregnant with her child.
#Alice macray#Alice macray imagine#Alice macray x reader#sarah paulson#sarah paulson imagine#sarah paulson x reader
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you’re the one that i want (part 9)
word count: 4k
angst, fluff
(part 8) (series masterlist)
tag list: @chogiout ; @seonghwaslut ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars ; @kuaenam3g ; @byungaji ; @floweryjh ; @joeycheungg ; @lostscenarios ; @atinyxtopia ; @sanisms ; @kpopnightingale ; @simpforhyunjin ; @89staytinyzen21 ;
july had come and gone, leaving your heart full of excitement and warmth as you and seonghwa continued to grow closer. you guys didn’t go a day without seeing one another, joining the boys down at the ocean to surf, going on late night dates to the beach or just staying wrapped up under his arm on the balcony.
he had even braved it out at another bingo night and barbecue party, the women even more bold and bothered than the last time they saw him.
when august came, it hit that you only had a month left. you only had a month left with seonghwa and your aunt and both crazy friend groups that leave you all so flustered, it can only make you laugh.
but it also hit you with the realization that you’d have to go back to your parents. go back to being spoken to with not an ounce of respect and remember what it feels like to walk on eggshells.
because when you walked outside your balcony one morning, expecting to see seonghwa standing there, you were met with the sight of your parents car pulling in the driveway.
it immediately filled your stomach with dread and anxiety and fear, so different from the way you get nervous here.
you get nervous because seonghwa is too close to you, teasing at your lips with his and snaking his hand over every curve of your body; not because you think you’re gonna be yelled and screamed at for hours.
you get nervous because you’re scared of how much it feels like you love him and how no one’s ever made you feel this way, not because you’re gonna be hit and slapped in a way that leaves you aching for days after.
you run down the stairs and look wide eyed at your aunt who attempts to calm you with her soft expression, exaggerating her breathing and telling you “everything is gonna be okay,” before opening the door to greet them; you’re grateful that the hickies seonghwa had given you last week have faded, already knowing your parents would look at them and probably call you a whore.
but they barely acknowledge your presence when they walk in, your dad’s curt “good morning,” followed by your mom’s “hi, dear,” so forced and fake it makes you wanna scream.
breakfast is as awkward as things usually are with them, utensils clattering against plates as your aunt tries her best to make conversation. but you’re far too tense and anxious to try, not trusting the demeanor of your parents more than usual.
they wear a serious, blank expression like they’re about to tell you someone died. or maybe that they’re getting a divorce or disowning you; that would be best case scenario to be honest, never having to see them-
“we thought we should tell you that we moved.”
you stare blankly at your dad as the words leave his mouth, blinking a few times as you try to grasp what he just said.
you know he actually said it because you can see the way your aunt’s face has dropped, looking at your parents in disbelief like she wants to say something but also knows she shouldn’t get involved.
“what?” you eventually stammer out, your eyes wide and voice quiet.
“i got a new job so we sold the house and bought a new one,” your father tells you bluntly, like he’s explaining some sort of difficult concept to a toddler. you feel your stomach knot at the idea of never going back to your old house again; you’d grown up in that bedroom.
you had tiny pencil marks on the inside of your closet because your classmate told you her mom would do that to track her height. you painted the ugly neon green a pretty pastel blue when you started middle school, in disbelief the two people staring coldly at you even allowed it.
“why do you look so pissy?” your mom suddenly snaps, your aunt calling her name lowly snapping you out of your memories. you feel tears prick your eyes at her irritable tone, not at all used to be spoken to like that these days.
“i’m not,” you say quietly, the way your stomach is so tight making you feel ready to throw up your waffles and fruit. “i’m just...shocked. why didn’t you guys tell me?”
“your father didn’t know until-”
“why are you entitled to know anything?” your father snaps, causing your skin to prickle and shoulders to shoot up anxiously. “what do you contribute?”
you let out a sigh at the familiar comment being thrown in your face, that you’re the child and they’re the parents so you’re not entitled to any say in matters like this.
“i just wish i had known so i could-”
“so you could what? say bye to all your friends?” you mom bites sarcastically, such a juvenile insult falling from a grown woman’s mouth. but even if it’s petty and mean, it’s the truth and you can’t find it in yourself to even comment.
“why do you have to say those things?” your aunt asks quietly, looking at her sister with questioning eyes. “you haven’t seen your daughter in two months. why can’t you be nice to her?”
“how ‘bout you stay out of this?” your mom bites back, your eyes narrowing at the tone she uses toward your aunt. you push your plate away and there’s an awkward silence between the four of you, your aunt recommending for everyone to get some air and sit outside.
but the fresh air proves to do nothing, the silence still suffocating and making you so incredibly anxious.
this would be the time at home where yelling would start, your dad’s dark eyes and your mom’s snarled lip making you more and more tense until one of their hands connect with your cheek for whatever reason they can think of.
“so, what town are you in now?” your aunt asks, wincing slightly when it only sends your mom into another bitchy fit. your dad’s hard eyes remain on you, jaw squared as he looks over your face.
“you’re an ungrateful little bitch, do you know that?” he growls lowly, the words going unheard by your mom and aunt. tears prick your eyes as you look down at the table, gritting your teeth and squeezing your hands together so you don’t yell at him and defend yourself.
“you’re sitting here with a fucking puss on your face because we moved without telling you?” he continues to sneer despite the fact you’re so obviously detached and over it. “how ‘bout you never come back then? stay with your aunt and finish school here?”
“okay,” you blurt out, eyes still focused on the table until his hand smacking down on the glass causes you to jump and push back in your chair. you’re tempted to run around the table so he can’t reach over and grab you, your dad standing up before he thinks twice about doing what he really wants to.
“you are such a-”
“oops sorry!”
yunho’s voice sends shock waves through you, peeking into the backyard next door and seeing the blue-haired boy and seonghwa looking over at you; the dirty blonde’s eyes are pinched and dark, watching you since the second you stepped outside.
he saw how uncomfortable and tense you’d been, the way your eyes have focused on the table and how any time you peer up, it looks like you’re about to burst into tears.
your eyes travel to the football laying right beside the pool as you mumble “i’ll get it,” quickly moving around your aunt and past your mother to grab it.
seonghwa meets you at the fence and your fingers graze when he takes the ball, his eyes zoning in on you so intensely it makes you wanna throw yourself into him.
“you okay?” he mumbles quietly, not trying to alert his friends or the...company your aunt has. you press your lips together because you know if you talk, you’re gonna start to sob; you can only find it in yourself to shake your head slightly, biting at your lips nervously and feeling your heart sink when his face darkens.
“baby, what’s wrong?”
he hears a quiet whimper leave your mouth and is about ready to jump over this fence, take you away from whatever’s making you so anxious and upset until he sees a small, fake smile on your face again.
“can i text you later,” you whisper out, your back feeling like it’s burning with someone’s gaze on you. seonghwa’s eyes move behind your shoulder and narrow, his jaw tightening and demeanor changing to look completely murderous.
you mumble out a “stop,” shaking your head slightly and hearing him let out a huff.
“as soon as you can,” he demands lowly, his voice raising every so slightly when he thanks you and reluctantly goes back to yunho. you turn around to see both of your parents looking at you suspiciously, walking as far away from your mom’s seat before plopping back down in yours.
“hm...” you hear your mom hum, her eyebrow raised as she looks at you skeptically. “so, what exactly have you been doing here all summer, y/n?”
by the time your parents leave at sunset, your nerves are completely shot.
it felt as if they were breathing down your neck the entire time, going down to the beach and out for a light dinner with strained conversation and awkward, prolonged stares.
the second you heard their car pull out of the driveway, you slumped down onto the couch and put your face in your hands.
your aunt frowned and immediately made her way over to you, placing her arm around your shoulder comfortingly. she apologized to you quietly, said that she’s sorry they moved without your permission and that you have to go back there and can’t live with her.
because she’d allow it in a second and it’s awful that your parents would never go for it despite the way they treat you.
“i don’t know why they’re so mean,” you whimper and the words hurt the older woman’s hearts. it sounds like a sentence that should leave a child and not a teenage girl. but they’ve made you so scared and broken and hurt that they’ve reduced you to a fragile woman.
“i know, i’m sorry,” she says lowly, squeezing you into her tighter and you can’t stop the way your lips wobble. you’re able to hold back the tears as she speaks quietly to you, tries to help by telling you you’re strong and that you have her and that you’ll be able to get through the next two years with them.
but it really doesn’t feel like it.
you feel like you’re about to have a complete breakdown and you only want seonghwa right now. you want him so badly but you also don’t want him to see you like this. see just how broken and sad and pathetic you are, an unloved girl who should be used to this mistreatment by now.
it should be able to just slide off your shoulders and not effect you. but it doesn’t and you can’t help the way tears prick your eyes.
“you should go see him,” you hear your aunt say to you.
you crane your neck up to look at her, eyebrows pulled together because how does she know? but she only smiles knowingly at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear lovingly. “he looked...worried before, even a bit scary.”
you smile slightly at her words, feeling your heart tug because you really do want him right now. but what a sad way to make him spend the night, crying on his shoulder and making him coddle you.
“i don’t...wanna bother him,” you tell her quietly. you feel her shake her head as she lets out a sigh, looking out the window and you can’t see the way a smile suddenly lights up her face.
“something tells me he won’t mind,” she tells you, tapping on your shoulder and nodding her head toward the window.
you squint your eyes but can’t see anything, walking toward the front door to see seonghwa making his way over from yunho’s.
he stops in front of the house and nods his head at you, your lips pouting as they threaten to tremble. you make sure your phone is in your back pocket before you say goodbye to your aunt, assuring her you’ll text her if you’re staying out late.
you stare at your feet as you walk to him, praying you’ll spare him at least an hour before you completely break down and let out all of the pain and anxiety coursing through you.
but when you stand in front of him and meet his eyes, you’re not feeling too confident.
he smiles down at you and takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he pulls you into him. you wrap your arm around his waist, burying your face in his chest and letting out the shaky breaths that tighten your chest when you’re trying so desperately not to cry.
he only rubs at your back slowly, the gentle hum of “it’s okay,” on your head causing you to shake yours.
because it’s not okay. you’re not okay and now that you’ve had happiness, it’s gonna hurt ten times worse when it’s ripped from you.
you don’t wanna leave him or this town and deal with everything that comes with having two assholes as parents. you don’t wanna be alone again after years of convincing yourself that that’s what you wanted when really you absolutely hate it.
that’s what makes the first tear fall and when he hears the broken little sob that leaves your mouth, he takes your face in his hands and shakes his head.
“please don’t,” he says quietly, rubbing at the tears that start to leak down your face.
you move out of his hold and hide away right when he says that, wipe at your tears as you back away from him because you were right. he doesn’t wanna deal with this and he shouldn’t have to. he doesn’t owe you anything and he shouldn’t have to put up with your crying and-
“what are you doing?”
his eyes narrow at the way you’re retreating away from him, your face fallen and dejected as tears continue to gather in your eyes.
“i’m sorry, i know you don’t wanna deal with this,” you say meekly, “and you shouldn’t have to. but- but i know i’m gonna cry and i don’t want you to get annoyed or mad so i’ll just-”
he takes two steps closer to you before pulling you into him roughly, your body slamming against his as he places his hand on the back of your head. “i didn’t mean it like that,” he says, voice soft and quiet but also holding a certain authoritative tone. “i just hating seeing you cry, y/n.”
you squeeze your lips into a firm line so you don’t start again, sniffling against him as you slightly relax into his warm chest. he presses a kiss to your head and plays with the back of your hair, his hand moving through it gently as he tries to soothe you.
he knew the second he saw you earlier that this was gonna happen. he was hoping it wouldn’t but knew it probably would, the way your eyes were so tense and body on edge when he saw you in that extremely uncomfortable backyard.
“why do they hate me,” you suddenly whimper into his chest.
it’s a question you’ve had for years now, something that haunts every bit of you and will probably for the rest of your life. but it’s just so incredibly disturbing and you can even see that, knowing the way your chest is hurting and stomach is knotting shouldn’t be because you’re thinking about seeing your own parents again.
he pulls you away from his chest and takes your face in his hands again, running his thumbs over your face and you can’t even see through your tears how sad his eyes look. he can’t say anything because he doesn’t have an answer for you. he can’t imagine why anyone would and it makes him even more angry that it’s your own flesh and blood doing this to you.
it’s why he doesn’t even bother trying to reassure you with words, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and allowing his lips to linger as quiet sobs leave you. he’s actually surprised by how low your cries are, like you’ve learned how to control them with years of practice.
his heart sinks when it doesn’t seem like you’re gonna stop any time soon, kissing your forehead when he forces your head up to look at him. “i know you’re sad, baby, and i’m sorry but let’s go back to my house, okay?”
because the last thing he wants is yunho and the boys to be leaving his house and seeing you in hysterics.
your lip quivers at his softly spoken words, one in particular, before you’re nodding your head and he’s pulling into his car. he doesn’t let go of your hand the whole time, one of his hands on the steering wheel while the other is intertwined with yours, thumb rubbing soothingly against your skin as you wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks.
fifteen minutes later, you’re on his bed and cuddled into his chest. his warm blanket surrounds you as he rubs your back, grateful that you’re no longer sobbing but instead sniffling against him. he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask if you wanna talk or if you’re okay, just allows you silence and comfort with his lips on your head.
and that’s all you really need.
because you just lay there with him, tucked into his body and you would’ve thought he was asleep if it wasn’t for the way his hand was rubbing up and down your shoulder blade.
you pick your head up and wipe at your face, seonghwa taking your chin in his hand so he can press his lips to yours sweetly. it’s a soft, chaste kiss that was purely for comfort and assurance, nothing more to it other than him wanting you to know he’s here for you without saying it.
“we’re moving,” he hears you say quietly, voice scratchy and wet from your crying. “well, we moved already, i guess. they sold the house and got a new one without telling me.”
he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, just presses a kiss to the side of your head and pulls your body into him in hopes you’ll continue.
“and i mean it’s not like i had friends to say goodbye to or anything,” your moms harshly spoken words ringing in your head. “but i don’t know...it still upsets me. and they called me ungrateful and all they’re usually insults. but i was just shocked. i’ll have to start at a new school, too.”
he swallows down the curses threatening to leave his mouth, running his finger over your cheek again. “know it’s easier said than done but you can’t listen to them,” seonghwa says lowly. because his inexperience is starting to show now, the way he doesn’t really know how to comfort or relate to people with words but wanting to so badly. “none of the shit they say matters because it’s wrong.”
you sniffle at the words so similar to your aunt’s and nod your head, resting your cheek back down on his chest and sighing contently when his lips brush your hair.
"i don't wanna leave," you squeak out quietly, the words hanging heavy because that's a truth he's been running from as well. that the summer is gonna end and he's gonna go back to his normal, fake life and persona. the seonghwa who doesn't have feelings or show his emotions, who is cold and an asshole and thinks he's too good for anyone.
"i don't wanna stay with them anymore. i don't wanna leave you and everyone else and go back to that stupid new house with them being there," you cry out like a child, feeling the relentless tears prick at your eyes again. "i'm gonna miss you, seonghwa. i feel... so safe with you.”
his heart pangs with hurt at the brokenness in your voice, taking your face in his hands immediately so you can look up at him again. "i'm right here, baby, i'm not going anywhere."
you swallow the lump in your throat at his words, wishing they’d soothe something in you but the feeling ripping through your chest outweighing it. “but you’re gonna. we’re both gonna leave and i might not ever see you again and you’ll forget about me and then-
“who said that?” he asks you lowly, bringing your face toward his so his eyes can drop down to yours. “who said we’re never gonna see each other again and that i’m gonna forget you?”
the words die in your throat at the intensity in his tone, his eyebrow raised as he waits for an answer you don’t have.
“exactly,” he hums lowly, bringing your face to his so he can kiss your mouth again. this time it’s a little more hard and sloppy, his mouth claiming yours as his lips part before he’s pulling away and leaving you with a pout on your face.
“don’t say that shit to me again,” he warns lowly, his tone deep and low and making butterflies go off in your stomach. “i have you now, so let’s focus on that. we’ll deal with...all the other stuff when we have to.”
you breathe in the scent of his shirt, trying so hard to get the words to calm you so you can enjoy these moments with him.
you still have four weeks, you think to yourself, you still have 28 days to spend with him. smile and laugh and play in the ocean, kiss him until your lips are puffy and red while exploring his body the way he explores you and show him that for the summer, you’ve been his.
so you nod your head against him, looking up to smile softly at him. and he’s so glad to see it, biting down on his lip and pressing pecks to your forehead, nose and lips in a way that makes a blush promptly spread across your cheeks.
“okay,” you say quietly. he smiles down at you, his eyes roaming your blushing face before he cups your cheek and rubs over the warm skin.
he admires every part of you in a way that is far too intimate and vulnerable, it makes your heart tug in your chest. your eyes don’t leave his as he caresses your skin gently, in disbelief that this is the same boy who bumped into you on the beach and scared the shit out of you.
“you wanna watch a movie?” he asks a few moments later, when the silence becomes too much for both of you to bear and he pushes down the desire to keep kissing you until your clothes are on the floor and he hears your pretty, soft moans.
you nod your head and can’t believe when you playfully suggest finding dory, he puts it on without hesitation.
the next morning, soft kisses on your cheek wake you up. your eyes flutter open and you see seonghwa, dirty blonde hair a mess of waves as he leans over your body.
“morning baby,” he says quietly and your stomach flutters at those deep words being the first thing to greet you.
you roll over onto him, stretching your arms out and hearing him chuckle when a tiny groan leaves you. he runs his hand through your messy hair, leaning down to peck your forehead before mumbling something about going to get breakfast.
you perk up slightly at the mention of food, looking around in a daze before coming to the decision you don’t ever wanna this bed today. “can we stay here today?” you ask him shyly, shimming over to him so you can wiggle your way into his lap.
he smiles at the rare occurrence of you curling yourself into him unprompted, wrapping his arm around your lower back. “we can do anything you want,” he hums in your ear, pressing a kiss to your skin in a way that makes you giggle against him.
and for the rest of the day, you do just that; whatever you want.
which entailed eating breakfast, lunch and dinner in his bed. swapping from movies to tv series during the day before going for a stroll on the beach at sunset. you watch your footsteps in the sand, your hands intertwined in the middle of you before you’re both standing in front of the rock where you first met.
and it’s with one silent look you both make your way up there, leaning your back against his chest as you rest between his legs and watch the sun set in a peaceful silence. the only sound is the occasional peck of his lips on your head, your giggle shortly following that makes him tighten his hold on you.
with your head on his chest and his arms around you, you can’t help but hope that tomorrow, you’re gonna wake up next to him again. that just for this weekend, you have him completely to yourself in every possible way.
(part 10)
#seonghwa#seonghwa angst#seonghwa fluff#seonghwa series#ateez#ateez angst#ateez fluff#seonghwa scenarios#ateez scenarios#seonghwa imagines#ateez imagines
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I don't want to do this!:
I absolutely hate writing about religious discrimination!
Frankly, I wish that I wasn't putting fingers to keyboard about any discrimination.
I also desperately don't want the focus to be on discrimination against everything Islamic and Muslim.
However, sadly, it's the most venomous hated that I have ever encountered, second only to racism against the black human beings of our world.
All my life I must have lived under a rock, maybe I live under a rock now, yet the vileness and outright lies that come out of those obsessed with hating all Islam and Muslims, plus anyone who stands up and says this is wrong, is obscene.
I am disgusted in the way these people respond.
I have had differing opinions with both Muslim men are women yet been addressed with respect and politeness. They are peaceful and not intimidating in any way.
Speak to a person who is anti Muslim, they refuse to listen to anything that may contradict what they want to believe, they will call you a liar and slander you. They intimidate and bully, call you names, question your mental stability, stalk your FB and target your children. The insults and illogical reasoning is unbelievable.
I am horrified that there are people like this in the world!
More horrifying still is for once I can see the appeal in hating the West.
Imagine a young Muslim man, born here, and rather then allowing him to explain what his religion means to him, to try and teach people, that hate everything about him, that he deserves to be not discriminated against, he gets told what his religion is, he is called a murder, a terrorist, a paedophile, a Mysoginist, etc. His sister is spoken to about her husband beating her, being oppressed, asked if she still has her clitorus, threatened with physical abuse, has her hijab torn off, threatened with rape, told she is a bad mother because she sells her baby girls to be raped by old men.
And no matter what they say to try and explain their actual beliefs the abuse flows. And this is from their own countrymen.
Mate, I would want them all gone too! Be honest, who wouldn't!?
Yet if they report abuse or complain about their treatment they are accused of wanting to change things. "They come here and try to change everything", is the cry from the haters!
1) There is NO law that insists that ALL women wear a Burqa in Saudi Arabia: Hijab is only compulsory for Muslim women. Anything else is a choice for those in a practicing Muslim family.
2) Women are not allowed to get an education in Saudi Arabia: I urge you to look up any TV broadcast from local Saudi Arabia telecasts. Women, in hijab, reading the news. This suggests an education. However, both men and women are encouraged to gain knowledge in Islam.
3) WTF does Saudi Arabia have to do with every other Muslim world wide, especially in Australia?
4) FGM (female genital mutilation) is an Islamic practice: Far from it! The Islamic religion urges that both men and women enjoy sex and that a man sexually pleases his wife. FGM is a tribal practice. However, MGM (male genital mutilation) has and still is widely practiced in Australia.
5) There is NO "no go" zones in Australia!: This urban myth was started by a female, Canadian Islamphobe. It was said to be proved when the police removed her from Lakemba for disturbing the peace. The police weren't working for the Muslims to enforce their "no go" zones! How ridiculous. Others tell totally unbelievable stories about women walking there and being spat on for not wearing hijab. Firstly, not all Muslimah wear hijab, even in Lakemba. Also there are numerous non-Muslims that go to these fabled areas to eat, visit, shop, do business, etc. This rumor is absolutely ludicrous!
6) Muslim women are oppressed, even here in Australia!: It is naive that there is no abusive people in any religion or walk of life, however, Muslimah are not oppressed as perf the usual course. Quiet the opposite! Historically, and as it is today, Muslimah have the freedom to do and be whatever they want, just like Muslim men. There is no distinction between what male and females can do. In fact, men are encouraged to wash their own clothes, cook and do housework. Also the Qur'an makes it very clear that the mother is the head of the household.
7) It is always claimed that Muslims want to change things: Yet, the question, "what have they actually changed?", goes unanswered. Muslims are required to live by the laws of the land, and as such, really don't want to change anything but the way they are treated. Especially how the women are treated. Our hero Islamphobes always target women and children because Muslimah are more recognizable.
8) Why are these people so threatened by the hijab or niqab?: For fuck sake it's a piece of material! It's not what's on a woman's head that oppresses her. However, who are those that want to oppress Muslimah? Muslim men or the Islamphobe? I say without hesitation, the Islamphobe! They don't ask a Muslim women how she feels, they don't ask what she may want to wear. They rarely comprehend the meaning of the hijab to a woman but rather try to twist it into some sexually perverse. They proclaim that Muslim women shouldn't wear a head covering. As Australia is a free country, with a freedom of religion and freedom of lawful individually, the real oppression and discrimination, is telling Muslim women what to wear.
9) Telling Muslim women what they are: The idea that, to Islamphobes, Muslim women are stupid and therefore, don't know that they are oppressed, would have to be the most Mysoginist slap in the face ever! All I can say is, "at least Muslim men know a woman's worth is awesome".
10) Muslim men marry girl babies of 5 to 6 years old and Muslim mothers allow it: Firstly, American is the place booming in child brides at the moment. With some states having no minimum age for marriage and also no divorce for women. Compared to Malaysian Clerics, years ago, raising the age of concent to 18. Also contrary to European/western/Christian culture, women have been granted divorce since the 700s in Islam.
11) Women wear the Burqa in Australia: This is actually one of those urban myths, started by Pauline Hanson. To see a Burqa in Australia would be very unusual. Most Australian Muslimah are from cultures that don't don the Burqa. The Burqa is an Afghan tradition and is very rare in Australia. Then why fight "ban the Burqa"? In one word, principle! It is against a woman's basic rights to tell her how much she can or can't wear, within the laws of public decency. There is also a security argument, as a Burqa is rarely worn that argument is rather moot.
12) Muslim men have lots of wives and children and just live on welfare: This is so silly that it's laughable. Once again, it is rare for Muslim men to have more than one wife these days as it is financially impractical. Also most Muslim men prefer one wife. In Australia, on average, the Muslim family consists of 2 children. With all this being said, usually Muslim men and women are educated and professional people. If not they strive to own businesses. The stupid welfare claims are unfounded and actually go against most Muslim traditions and cultures that have a hard work ethic.
13) They come here are get more welfare than Australians with no waiting period: This information can be researched on government websites. There is a waiting time for new Australians, Muslim or otherwise, which often means charitable families that sponsor them and take them in during this time. When they do receive any benefit, before getting on their feet, it is no more or less than anyone else.
14) They receive a thousand dollar iPhone and designer clothes as soon as they arrive: Is this one even worth answering? I just shake my head in disbelief!
15) Muslims have been Australians for generations: It amazes me how many people actually believe that no Muslim is Australian born. The history of the Islamic people in Australia predates white colonization. Islamic men from Indonesia travelled down and through Australia. There was intermarriage with the Indigenous peoples and even revertion to Islam by some. A more constant move to Australia, by those of the Islamic faith, started in the 1800's.
16) All Muslims are the same because they read from the same book: this is like saying that all Christian denominations are the same because they read from the same book. Most know that this is not the case.
There are many different varieties of Muslim. Yes they have the Qur'an yet addition books vary between the sects.
There are 72 different sects, numerous sects within the main sects, different traditions, different cultures, different regions, different regions, different countries and different families.
As for the Qur'an: there is the subject context, further context, overall context, historical context and spiritual context. Then all the different ways it is interpreted. Also interpretation can be manipulated and cherry picked to suit an agenda or bias. This can be said of the Bible also.
Where interpretation is important is in the understanding of Arabic. To translate a language as complex as Arabic into simple English leaves the meaning truly lacking.
For example: Islam is a very sexually moral religion. Men and women are not meant to sexulise each other, There is no unsupervised dating and dressing is modest. However, it is commonly thought the men will receive a bus load of virgins to have an orgy with in paradise. However, "virgin" more correctly translates to "pure". This is a "spiritual" context and "heavenly beings/angels is probably a better translation into English.
17) Muslims want to kill all Jews and Muslims. The Qur'an tells them to kill all Christians: Unfortunately people are so off the mark on this one. Islam actually says that Muslims cannot destroy a place of worship nor hurt religious "ministers". The Qur'an refers to Christians and Jews as the "people of the book". In fact, the only other women a Muslim man is permitted to marry is either a Christian or a Jew. The wives of these two religions are also not expect to revert as they are seen as sisters to Islam. Christian and Jewish men and women are thought of as brothers and sisters to Muslims.
There is a long list of urban myth, propaganda, rumors and out right lies that are used as ammunition against Islam and Muslims.
The arrogance of the Islamphobe is to tell a Muslim what their faith is! With no other religion would a person, outside that faith, verse another in their religion.
#discrimination#islamophobia#islam#women#womens rights#muslims#cultures#veil#head scarf#hijab#religion#islamic#truth#freedom of choice#freedom of religion#muslimah#sexism#arrogance#ignorance#propaganda#myths#abuse#rude#uneducated
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As I Write This
My laptop is on my lap and my feet are crossed on my brilliantly teal blue yoga mat. I often think about what in my right mind made me interested in ever starting yoga but I’ve found in life that there are some things that don’t need to be explained. I had an interest in pursuing it and I did, it’s as simple as that. I didn’t, however, ever think it would turn into what it has turned into today.
When I tell you that I practice yoga what do you immediately think of? I know initially for me I thought essentially of vsco girl contortionists which, unfortunately for me, did not match my vibe. I am neither flexible nor necessarily affluent and aesthetically pleasing. In fact, I still can’t touch my toes (September 6th update: I can touch my toes now! Vsco girl here I come). I thought of entitled white women that rattled on about manifestation and things that truthfully sound like a load of garbage. However, I went in with an open mind and that’s all you must do. Your practice is entirely selfish in the best way. It is about you and only you and your metaphysical connection with yourself.
So what does that look like? Well I’ll be the first to tell you that I don’t look like a pretzel all of the time..if ever. In fact, the important part about yoga is that it is equally a connection between mind and body. It is you talking with yourself and quieting your mind and if that takes you touching your feet to your head then fine, but that’s not the case for me. Quite simply, yoga and meditation take the form of acknowledging your consciousness. There is often the misconception that you have to meditate only in utter silence sitting cross-legged with your eyes closed. That’s not true. I know people that are most appreciative out in nature, and they meditate while walking. Some mediate while playing sports or playing the guitar and laying down on a carpet. The importance is that you take the time to recognize and prioritize the thing that makes you most content.
In the heart of my minds eye (Julia wtf..why are you speaking like this) I see yoga and meditation as voluntary gratitude. This is something that I really came to define as my personal practice. This is why I enjoy and look forward to yoga and it has absolutely nothing to do with whether I can touch my toes or not. As my own personal definition, I recognize yoga as experiencing and accepting the world exactly as it is and this often begins with the metaphysical, rather than the physical.
In everything that we do, we can direct our thoughts. Whether you currently think so or not, your body will never feel good if you don’t mentally feel good. I know a lot of people that use the excuse/ example of saying, “well when you get sick your body deteriorates and because your body deteriorates you have to stay inside and because you have to stay inside you can get sad and depressed.” To which I would argue that never in a thousand years would I say that being sick in and of itself causes me to be more sad than I already might have been. If anything, it just highlights whatever negativity was already there.
Our bodies are representations of the internal, not the other way around. I believe this is why I find psychology and sociology so intriguing, and are frustrated when it is refuted and defined as a “fake science.” In my eyes, empirical science is only half of the story. I know that while data is important (I DO always gush about statistics after all) inquisitive research means even more. In our minds we are all different. We experience the exact same situation differently, we react to them differently, this is something that could never be empirically explained and to that I revere the scientists that are denied credibility solely because they cannot produce equations on paper.
If you’re a close friend of mine you’d know that I’ve been struggling with my self worth recently. This manifests itself in my constant requests for confirmation that my friends are not bored of me and that I’m still interesting and worthwhile. This feeling is like a groundhog because as quickly and passionately as it pops up it will go away and I continue with my life, but that’s the thing about the subconscious, it doesn’t “go away”. When Punxsutawney Phil announces the coming of the next season he doesn’t just pop underground and cease to exist. Every single thing that we worry about is housed in ego and as our egos like to title themselves our “identity” you can’t shut that up and suddenly become a shell of a (wo)man.
For that very reason, I’ve come to adore the job that I do as a social policy research assistant. At it’s very core is the act of interviewing those that you would never even THINK you had anything in common with. The project I’m currently working with is with the elderly and disabled, two things I’d pretty confidently claim I am not. And yet, constantly their words set of alarms in my mind. Not a warning bell, not a “get the hell out of there it’s going to suck to be old” bell either, but moreso, a glimpse into all that life has to offer in the most inspirational way.
Yesterday I was speaking to the kindest woman I have ever spoken to. She was orphaned at 17 and her mother had died of cancer and she had been suffering from a disability to the point where she is currently homebound at the age of 57. Was this disheartening Yes, but what did we talk about? We talked about the fact that she had multicolored crystal prisms all over her house. We talked about the fact that whenever she was depressed she reminded herself that everything she was feeling was temporary and she would see color again soon. We talked about how because of all the things she had been through she developed a passion for service through the mother of her ex-boyfriend who took her in and forced her to carry on. We talked about how she was proud of me and thought I was perfect for this inquisitive role (remember I have never met this woman) and should continue on being curious and kind as I have so much life ahead of me. This is what meditation is all about. You don’t have to sit in silence, but rather reflect on what the world around you means.
She told me she wanted to give me a prism :)
I mediate through reading. My entire LIFE books have been healing for me. I have found that I look forward to being in my own head and learning constantly learning about anything and everything because every book, in its own way, is applicable to life. And its for that reason, when my dad and I walked into 2nd and Charles the other day, that I had this urge to look for “Eat, Pray, Love,” by Elizabeth Gilbert. To be truthfully honest, I had seen a tik tok about it about a week before, that was kind of like a parody for the movie trailer and for some reason it stuck with me to the point where an entire week later I was roaming the aisles for this book.
If you didn’t know, 2nd and Charles is a second-hand book store so there is never any guarantee that something you’re looking for is there. In fact, I had been roaming for about as long as my impatient temperament could take when I turned around by accident and there it was on the tippy top of the shelf behind me. I couldn’t tell you what drove me to grab this book at this exact time in my life, but I have never been more thankful for a book in my entire life.
Elizabeth Gilbert simultaneously writes like God and your older sister. Her language is divine and it rocks you from the very essence of your soul but she’ll also talk about how much sex she’s had and how bloated she was after eating more pasta than anyone should ever eat and how she didn’t give a fuck. And, I don’t do this often, but I found myself repeatedly stopping to type quotes in a note on my phone. If you haven’t yet heard of it (I’d be surprised) but “Eat, Pray, Love” is about a woman in her mid thirties who lived the ideal life in New York but ended up going through a nasty divorce with her husband and went through a complicated affair after the fact.
I think that a lot of people misjudge this book as being equivalent to a rom-com like cringey love affair of superfluous nonsense and un relatable emotional sentiments. That couldn’t be further from the truth. This book was raw. She is often sobbing on her bathroom floor or crushed with suicidal depression. She is infinitely lonely and feels so small and it is nothing short of a mirror into all of our lives at some point. She goes to the countries to work herself out of this nightmare after a notably horrible episode on her bathroom floor where she finally admits to herself that she refuses to live her current life anymore. In Italy, India, and Indonesia she details her experiences in the pursuit of pleasure, devotion, and balance of a means of essentially finding her purpose.
When I say pleasure, you’ll probably think of Rome and romance and sex and pretty people. Those things definitely weren’t absent in her description (Except the sex because she decided to remain celibate for the year), but her pleasure presented itself in the most genuine form. Through her appreciation and slow consumption of good food, her slow meander through Italian architecture, her sunset discussions with new friends. These are things all the more important to being content.
I personally enjoyed her description of India the most as it brought me back to my experience with yoga and the individualized nature of the practice. Liz studied at an Ashram (a religious temple) under a guru for multiple months. It is at first torturous for her to find the the faith and courage to let herself go to some divinity that is not tangibly seen but she so acutely describes how important it is to quiet your mind to the chaos of the world. Once you do so, you really realize the lack of weight it ACTUALLY has on your life. This means that the way you perceive your situation will dramatically change the way you act and feel and treat others, something I have constantly been repeating in my other posts. Similarly, one of my favorite aspects of this section is her description of religion not as a border of political and historical idol complexes of rules and punishments, but a thin golden thread woven together with hundreds of other thought processes to form a spiritual connection between self and the divine.
In Indonesia she balances the two through helping others. I won’t go too much into detail but everything is so perfectly combined. So much so that I have tenfold more a desire to go to these three places than anywhere I might have mentioned before in my discussions of travel now.
In reading her words, she mad me cry and compose myself only to cry even more. That’s the beauty of a book that is so well renown, yet applies to every reader’s individual experience. I felt like she was addressing me directly. I really felt like someone or something was speaking through her directly to Julia Larock and I have read plenty of books and have never once felt like that. Specifically, here are a few quotes that really punched me in the face:
“There are only two questions that human beings have fought over, all through history: How much do you love me? and Who is in charge?”
“Vipassana meditation teaches that grief and nuisance are inevitable in this life, but if you can plant yourself in stillness long enough, you will, in time, experience the truth that everything (both uncomfortable and lovely) will pass”
“How do the survivors of terminated relationships ever endure the pain of unfinished business? From that place of meditation, I found the answer- you can finish it yourself, from within yourself. It’s not only possible, it’s essential”
And so as I finished inhaling her words after hours and hours of reading today I decided to try a new kind of yoga. Not that I had been doing it incorrectly before, but I wanted to focus my meditation more on gratitude. So I rolled out my mat and put on my meditation music playlist on spotify (don’t make fun of me it’s a real thing and it will change your life) and just sat. I originally tried to close my eyes, but that actually distracted me more so I kept them open (that’s the thing about meditation, you just do whatever works for you) And this time I actually let my mind wander, but only to a positive place. A place of thankfulness and peace. A place where every negative aspect of my life still existed, and I let it enter my mind, but it never once turned into the chaotic anger that it once was, the shame was there but I controlled it, the hurt arrived but it was nothing compared to what else I saw.
I saw Ryan giving me the longest hug of my life while I sobbed in the West Chester parking lot, I saw my mom stroking my hair while I sat on her lap and told her about my day, I saw my brother and I playing rock band and taking it way too seriously, I saw my Disney roommates and I celebrating Christmas together, I saw Steven and I discussing how similar we are, I saw myself walking hand and hand with some of the young children I met on the dirt roads after church in the Dominican Republic, I saw Lauren and Steph and I screaming when we saw each other in the Longwood parking lot, I saw walking on the boardwalk with Lauren and Amanda scaring me from behind, I saw myself playing golf with Graham and Cameron, I saw myself having photoshoots with Jaelyn, I saw myself handing out drinks to Brewed customers that wanted nothing more than to tell me their entire life stories, I saw all my robotics friends supporting each other at competitions, I saw all of my fellow TFA interns drunk at our staff social (oops ;) hehe ) I saw my dad telling me he was proud of me, I saw Zach taking care of me even though we just met, I saw the hoards and hoards of kids in China writing me love letters and calling me a Disney princess, I saw the zoo in Australia where we took little Ethan for the first time, I saw Eloise telling me she was pregnant and I could be an aunt to her daughter, I saw my cousin Genevieve telling me that she wanted me to come to Cape Charles with her family because “whenever you’re with us the vibes are good.”
And I literally just sat there and cried.
Maybe it would have been a little bit eerie if anyone walked into my room, but it was a silent cry. I wasn’t sobbing or dramatic or weepy, there were just tears, because there was so many thoughts flashing in my mind and I probably only sat there for 15 minutes. And towards the end, over top of it all, I kept hearing the words “I’m speaking to you.” It was kind of like a mantra because I heard it in my own voice, but it wasn’t necessarily coming from just me. It was like in my own voice I hear, “I’m speaking to you, I believe you, this love that you see in these memories, hold onto that because this is all I want for you.”
And that’s all I want for me too, and for everyone really. Because at the end of the day when we better ourselves we better everyone.
When I finally dragged myself off the mat I picked up my phone for the first time in a few hours today. There was a text there from Casey, who is the youth group pastor with the group I used to be apart of at UD. He told me that he was thinking of facilitating a mental health support group this fall and he wanted me to advocate for it and be a part of spreading the word about it because I’ve been blessed with so many connections. What a situationally ironic time for a text like that, after just sitting in gratitude for those in my life. I told him that I’d absolutely love to be a part of that and now here I am, writing this.
I’m not going to try to be disgusting and poetic and say that my life is changed and nothing will ever be the same. I’m positive I’ll still get upset and angry about the same things in my life. The difference though is that I don’t see that as an impenetrable barrier, but more like a hurdle where all you need to do is put some pressure on yourself to get yourself in the air.
And once I’m in the air I’ll bring out the prism that was just given to me and it’ll create color.
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Text
December 2017 Correspondence
Tonight I asked you to send me the last note you wrote to me. I’ve written you twice by text but you’ve only replied with the email with the attachment and no subject. I can’t tell if you’re restrained because you’re angry or because you’re sad.
Your final note to me was a chance to right the ship and I didn’t take it. I took it all for granted. And there you were being as honest as you could. Goddamnit I wish we would have caught this earlier. It was right there. That was our moment. And I missed it. We should have had a big talk then and we didn’t and from that point on. We went our separate ways.
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I apologize for not being able to speak yesterday evening as I know you like to resolve things sooner rather than later - I wasn't ready to talk about it and didn't want to make matters worse for both of us.
I will start off by taking ownership for my reaction - I could have dialed down the attitude a bit before responding. I responded the way I did because of the way you relayed your issue to me. It was not a question, it was command. It wasn't a recommendation, it was an ultimatum. I didn't think that was fair and still don't.
I understand you're very proud of your job and took offense to my joke. I am sorry you felt that way about what I said, but I meant no harm. You tell me often not to censor myself and be me, and I made crass joke in true form - It didn't sit well with you. I understand your concern for the comment but feel you could have approached the situation completely differently. Unfortunately, you did not.
I can honestly say that no one has even spoken to me the way you did yesterday. It was shocking to hear you say what you did and didn't seem like you. It made me angry and sad.
I could have responded more maturely myself - My reaction was the result of the manner in which you decided to relay your concern. I don't think it's fair for anyone to give another person an ultimatum or tell them what to do. If you would have kindly expressed how the comment made you feel and asked me politely to refrain from such jokes, I likely would have responded more maturely.
I don't want to drag this out - I had an awful day with Dwight yesterday and am not in a good place mentally with him. I have a work event tonight just FYI.
I hope you have a better day than yesterday.
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It’s not my preference to do this over email, but I know you feel safer and more comfortable here.
My tone on Sunday was direct and angry. I certainly could have delivered my message without such anger.
I do think there’s some confusion over the message. I simply cannot have people close to me criticizing Spanx in any way, except to me privately. We’ve discussed this. It has little to do with pride; it’s about being a supportive partner and it’s about protecting me. You simply cannot speak poorly of Spanx, its employees, or its products. It not only breeds negativity but also presents a great deal of risk. If word ever got back to one of 200 people that I or my girlfriend spoke poorly of Sara or Spanx, I’d be done. It’s a big deal to me. It’s a condition for being in a relationship with me. And to my mind it’s a no-brainer.
On Sunday you indicated that you didn’t care and that you wouldn’t keep my confidence behind my back.
When I said, “I’m over this. Get the fuck out,” I was responding to not only that but your demeanor from the second you walked in my house. You were critical, dismissive, and not someone I wanted to be around. At times, you’ve come to treat me like a nuisance.
On Friday night too, it took everything, it seemed, for you to be civil. It’s not like you to have a lapse in maturity but that’s the only way I can explain how you conducted yourself at the Spanx party. You were dismissive of people, doing everything possible to not engage, and begrudging every action. This should have been a night to be excited, to shake hands, to see my work colleagues, and you wanted nothing to do with it. You became a liability and it would have been better to have not come. I was shocked to hear you complain about your feet hurting and being tired. I was really let down by your attitude.
Your demeanor toward me lately has been one of quiet disdain. You appear to be annoyed, even disappointed by me often.
And that comes in huge contrast to how you were around Alex Saturday night. You were light, playful, unedited, happy. It was beautiful. You told childhood stories, expressed opinions, and started conversations. You are almost never like that around me. Whether you can admit that to yourself or not, it’s blatantly obvious to me. When we get a meal together, you’re silent. When we’re driving in the car together, silent. It’s as if you have to endure me, and it only appears so dramatically when I get to see you relax and have fun with a friend. It makes me so happy for you, to see you free. But, damn, it makes me sad to know that you don’t feel that way around me.
The same goes for Eleni. You love to dance, you tell me, and yet you’ve never once suggested it for us - editing. You love to listen to music, you tell me, and yet you’ve never suggested it for us - editing.
I have no jealousy over Alex (or Eleni for that matter). I’m glad he’s your friend. This is about you, not him.
Frequency of sex is one thing, but we struggle to find sparks between us. From my end, your being in a relationship with me feels like an obligation rather than a desire at times. Your hanging out with me feels like better than being alone. That’s how it feels on my end. Thinking about it now, it feels awful.
You are still editing yourself except now I think it’s out of unhappiness.
That’s all to say that this weekend was one experience for me that started Thursday night and ended with me slamming the door behind you on Sunday. I canceled dinner plans Th night so that I could get more sleep and hopefully stay out later than usual for the Spanx party. That got derailed in the middle of the night, with a series of discussions I presume you don’t recall. Friday night you were beautiful as expected but your attitude was almost embarrassing. I lied and told everyone that you were really sick. In reality you didn’t want to be there and couldn’t be supportive. And it showed. Then Saturday the exact opposite happened around a friend: a happy, silly Ashley. A woman I typically get to see only around these friends. Then Sunday, again, you come into my house speaking down to me, ignoring my plea to keep your commitment to not speak poorly of Spanx, and then you were dismissive and I snapped.
You know that I always think there is a way to say things kindly and respectfully so you have my apology for speaking with such anger. I hope you can see now that there was so much feeling behind what I said.
I care deeply about you. I want you to be happy in the world. And it kills me to know you just don’t have that with me. I know your brain is flipping the tables to make this a way for me to say I’m not happy but it isn’t.
I believe you have to really like me rather than liking the idea of me. You have to like us rather than liking the idea of us.
I don’t know what next steps are. I think I need to hear you respond to this thoroughly. I hope that can be in person but if it needs to be written down, that’s fine.
I’ve reread all of this with the filter of honesty and kindness. This is how I truly feel.
I hope D is doing better.
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I’ve taken the past couple of days to really think about things. I started to look back on this year and all of the things that happened along the way. This year was not easy. I don’t think I was the only one who was dealt some tough changes. On my end, I found out my cat’s health was declining, my parents may be divorcing and my company was put up for sale with an unknown outcome. On your end, you got a really demanding and challenging new job.
I take responsibility for not doing everything I possibly could to help myself get out of my funk. I mentally became insecure and grew ashamed of my body further contributing to my distance sexually. Still, I thought I was getting by. It wasn’t until recently that I started to feel like I had a pulse again. Looking back, I wish I would have done more to ensure these things didn’t affect my relationship in the long run. I guess I’m a little late to that game.
Outside of the obvious factors I just listed that contributed to the decline of my happiness, I tried to really unpack why I’ve been critical of you. I really thought deeply about why I would treat you in such a way and came to a conclusion that I believe to be true. Eleven months ago, we sat on your back porch after we built a fire. This was right after you started your new job, and we were chatting about it. I remember it took a lot for me to say it, but I finally expressed my concern. I told you I was worried that this new job would in some way come between us. You quickly told me that was silly and that I was the best thing and you wouldn’t let that happen. The problem is, I let it happen.
Months pass and our conversations became dominated with your new job. Your schedule became tight and most of your day was consumed with work, even in the evening. More months pass and you begin to tell me stories of all of the women you work with, some of which you’ve taken to dinner and drinks on several occasions. You quickly became part of an inner circle that afforded you the company of many inspiring and successful people, men and women. Over time, I believe I became subconsciously resentful of this. I stopped asking about your day and let you talk about work while I just listened. I realize now I didn’t do much to turn the tables and talk about myself, but I don’t think at the time I even realized how silent and invisible I felt around you. I no longer felt special or important. I felt like your whole world was at work, and I had just been left behind. My insecurities got the best of me, and I continued to shut down. I stopped being outwardly supportive and resentment grew. Any time Spanx was brought up it triggered something within me to become defensive. I felt like Spanx was your new girlfriend, and I couldn’t compete.
All of this was worsened by the fact I had become depressed due to other things. I became an unhappy person, and I took it out on people who didn’t deserve it because I didn’t have the tools to cope. The other night at the party, I felt like I was walking into a sea of competition. I was finally meeting your other girlfriends. I didn’t feel safe. I truly felt like you weren’t there to dance and laugh and have fun with me, but you were there to show off your suit and network with your new people. Even Kiana made a comment about how you didn’t have to be “on” that night. You quickly said, “Yes, I do. It’s my job.” I won’t make excuses for my demeanor. I certainly could have been more supportive and sucked it up but again my resentment got the best of me. For that, I am sorry. That was a big night for you, and I should have pushed myself harder.
I have to say, I am not saying any of this to conclude you need to put your job aside for me. I simply just want to be as important as your job. I used to feel so supported and special and beautiful to you and over time I began to feel left behind.
I started spending a little more time with my friends, hoping it would lift my spirits and get me out of my general funk. It’s been nice to have them back in my life a bit more. The other night with Alex, I was happy because I was with people that I feel safe around. I don’t yet feel safe around your work friends. I will always be someone whose comfort zones are my friends and my family. I am not good with new people and am usually very quiet when I have to meet them. My demeanor around these people should not be a reflection of how I feel about you.
You are different. You’re older and wiser and a bit more serious. You’re extremely intellectual and have very staunch opinions and also open about being judgmental. I don’t believe that I consciously edit myself around you. I do believe I mimic the demeanors of those around me, and you are mostly a serious person. Over the past year you’ve relayed all of your opinions and views of many aspects of life. I think I’ve become fearful of ever being someone you don’t agree with as you’re quick to turn your back. I may not speak openly about marriage or religion and other things with you because I fear I will open a door that leads you to see that you don’t want to be with me. I know this isn’t right, but I can say that I do not do this on purpose.
There have been so many times I’ve wanted to tell you I love you but I always go back to a conversation we had at the beginning of our relationship where you told me you “didn’t do that phrase” and rarely even say it to your family. I still could have said it to you but fear held me back. These fears are obviously connected to deeper issues I have with abandonment. I’ve yet to fix those and hope one day they no longer cripple me.
There was a moment a few months ago that I actually proposed going to Shoshanna’s husband’s show at Sound Table because I genuinely thought it would be fun for both of us, and we could spend time with her. You told me you were not interested in doing that. I did not press the issue or ask again. I also know how much you love to relax on the weekends since your weeks are so busy. I think because of this I try not to push you to do things like go out dancing or find music to listen to or do anything for that matter because you love not doing anything. That’s my nature to take care of others’ needs before my own. If you genuinely ever felt up to doing things like that on the weekend, I’d be more than honored to do them with you.
I take responsibility for not being a good partner this year. I wish many things that happened, did not. I can’t take my behavior back now, but I can say that I am truly sorry. All I can do is hope that you’re understanding of this and are willing to work with me and be there for me. I also have to understand that you may not want to be that person anymore.
I don’t want to lose you. Not because I fear being alone or think being in a relationship is better than not. I don’t want to lose you because you’re my person. You’re my best friend. I care about you. You are so very special to me. I understand why you said the things you did in your email, but I all I can say is that I promise they’re not true. I want you and always have. This year was not easy. I hate that I let so many things affect me and this relationship. I am and want to continue to be your biggest supporter and can honestly say that I am extremely proud of you. I am sorry that did not show this year. I can only hope that you will understand this and forgive me.
I realize that I am someone that needs encouragement. I want to always feel important and cherished by my significant other. I realize work can be demanding, but I think we both could work to put a little romance back in our lives.
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