Question:

Has anybody ever forgiven aziraphale?

Like. I know it's pretty rare for aziraphale to own up to when he's done something wrong and rationalizes away his cognitive dissonance. But that behavior, while encouraged by Crowley, is out of self preservation.

With heaven there is no room to question, but there's also no room to make mistakes. Small ones are met with mockery and derision, not forgiven. Big ones? Whether it means losing his post on earth, or Crowley, or his own life, there is no second chance for aziraphale.

There's no point in apologies. Sure, he'll grovel or lie or fawn, but simply apologizing and telling the truth is just. Not an option.

He's willing to forgive heaven and Gabriel and tenants and Crowley, but cannot imagine that same kindness being extended to him. He was created in a system that reinforced the idea that he should be infinitely patient and understanding, but that he doesn't deserve the same.

And so he's constantly dealing with shame and guilt and grief and regret that stacks and stacks and hasn't had an outlet for 6000 years. Repression of those feelings is mandatory to survive the system, and remain functioning.

This of course is then perpetuated into his relationship with Crowley. He could ask for forgiveness, but he doubts it will be given, not without conditions or atonement. Why not skip to the groveling and do the silly dance? It keeps things vague, less vulnerable. There is safety in ambiguity.

He knows he can't be forgiven, but having that unambiguously confirmed, hearing Crowley tell him so directly?

He would break.

the worst thing about being abandoned is that overwhelming feeling of shame when that evil voice inside your head says 'how could you be so stupid to believe anyone would care about you'

(this is the result of catastrophizing, you are never stupid for believing this. It's healthy and normal to assume people who interact with you consistently and with warmth do care about you and you could not have known if this was not the case.)

If people being "cringy" on the Internet fills you with disgust and/or panic, it's time to sit down and unpack your own internalized shame and start practicing self-compassion.

when u call smth cringe, this is what i hear

Reminiscing on my “coming out.” I was so scared. So small, so shaky. So, so scared for so long. It had been over a year of sexuality related anxiety and OCD taking over my life. It almost drove me to take my life. I didn’t want to be who I knew I was that much. Finally…one day, I got the courage to tell someone. I told my sister. I really said it, I said the words “I’m gay” out loud. I did it. It felt like a relief. I was still terrified and shaky, but I was glad to have another person to hold this with me. And then…that same night my sister outed me to my entire family. She didn’t mean to hurt me. I found out that she had been cutting herself, so I told my mom for her safety. In an effort to take my moms attention off of her cutting, she outed me. In front of her friends and my mothers friends. It hurt me so much because this meant that she viewed being gay as something so bad and horrible that it could top her harming herself. I remember getting that text from my mom, feeling my heart drop out of my chest, feeling my throat tighten up. “____ is saying that you’re a lesbian. Is that true?” my mom texted me. She sounded so accusatory, like she was hoping my sister was lying. When they returned to the house, they looked at me differently. They acted nervous and unsure around me. Like I was some caged animal that could break out at any moment. I will never forget that night. It took me so long and it took so much courage for me to tell my sister, and I needed her support because I didn’t have it in me to give it to myself. But she didn’t give me that. She took my chance to come out on my own terms away from me. And she made it more dangerous for me. My family already treated me differently than my other siblings, but this pushed them over the edge. It was just another thing to other me, to separate me from others. I really understand the pain she was in and the reasoning behind her doing it, but I can’t forgive that. She took something from me that can’t ever be given back.

Sometimes I really hate being gay.

I use to have really good friendships with other women before I came out. Straight women in particular, and I always loved them and understood it was always gonna be platonic and I was happy with that,

I loved having them in my life.

So when I came out to them, I trusted them to understand I am the same person I was before, their friend that loves unconditionally and will stick by them.

They did say they will support me and that we are friends before our religious culture, it made me trust them.

But life can be disappointing,

They pushed me away a bit, I brushed it off, but the way they stopped talking about close matters we used to, stopped hugging me as much, and stopped jokely flirting with me.

And it wouldn’t bother me as much if they didn’t hug and jokely flirt with all their straight guy friends.

It mades me feel on the outside, like I did something wrong…

I know other countries deal with a lot worst for being gay, Ik so many countries still have prison consequences and even death penalties, but this is just my small little problem.

But this is for others who can relate if you’re having a hard time too <3

Good Omens s2 SPOILERS

Honestly, I’m starting to believe the coffee theory less and less and I think that makes it hurt so much more.

I think if he was tricked or forced, it was through old fashioned manipulation or gas lighting through Aziraphael’s already preexisting religious trauma that runs deeper than hell through that poor angels very being.

I want to be able to blame coffee or the almond syrup or some kind of heavenly trick of manipulation but I think it’s just trauma and fear and genuine goodness.

I think Aziraphael is so lost in what he could do for the universe and how he could make it better that he just doesn’t see this for what it truly is. Which is a trick.

That religious trauma is also what holds him back from accepting Crowley completely. He is such a “black and white” character that even when he has evidence that an Angel and a Demon <can> be together, he couldn’t possibly think it could work for him because that’s just not right. He is of heaven, Crowley is of Hell. Even if Crowley is only with Hell as much as he can be, it’s still “wrong” to Aziraphale and he can’t completely write that off as part of the grey bits and accept it.

But it doesn’t stop him from reaching for Crowley, for calling out to him when he needs help. From asking him to lunch, or for drinks. It doesn’t stop him from needing Crowley any less then if he could love the demon openly to himself.

But the internalized sense of sin holds him back from all that he truly wants and it’s so sad.

IM SO FUCKING SICK OF BEING AUTISTIC. IM SO FUCKING SICK OF BEING TREATED LIKE A TODDLER ALL THE FUCKING TIME. IM SO SICK OF BEING UNABLE TO FORM NORMAL ADULT RELATIONSHIPS LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. IM SO FUCKING SICK OF IT. IM SO SICK OF BEING THE WAY I AM. THE WAY I AM IS WRONG. THE WAY I AM IS DIFFERENT. THE WAY I AM IS DEFECTIVE. I JUST WANT TO BE TREATED LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.

I miss the way people USED to speak to me. I used to be so mature for my age, people treated me like a little adult. Now all of a sudden I get spoken to like I’m a toddler??? WHAT DID I DO WRONG??? Oh wait I know what I did wrong! I WAS BORN AUTISTIC. I HAVE CHILDISH INTERESTS. I HAVE MELTDOWNS. I CANT DO NORMAL THINGS LIKE DRIVE A FUCKING CAR OR LIVE ON MY OWN LIKE A NORMAL PERSON MY AGE. I STRUGGLE WITH THINKING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON. I CANT BE A NORMAL PERSON. I CANT EVEN MASK WELL ENOUGH. IM SO SICK OF IT ALLLLLLL…

I am part of the LGBTQ+ community.

I am part of this community and due to that I have some issues and fears. I struggle with my identity and I wrote about it because I need an outlet so let me scream into the void since I have no one to tell.

And tonight I realized I am ashamed of who I am. I am a hypocrite. I go to pride, but I am not prideful of who I am. I lie to myself and others. I hang the flag of my identity on the wall and I am ashamed and feel guilty and wrong.

As a child I was told “you can be anything you want” and as an adult you are told about the “American dream” you can be anything and do anything you want and have that freedom in the land of the free. But this is not true. It is not true for women. It is not true for queer people. It is not true for people of color. It is not true for neurodivergent people. It is not true for people with disability. It is not true if you are anything other than the social norm. Fit the mold and hide yourself, or face retaliation and unwanted opinions. Be hated and disrespected. Fear for your life.

“This is the real world”. “The real world is going to hurt when you get there”. But dad I say this is my world. I’ve been living it. But mom I say this is who I am. I hide myself for you. I make myself small and deny myself any truth. How can I live with myself? Maybe this is why I do not want to live with myself.

I will never feel the support and pride I want to feel because you, mom and dad, you are not proud. Not proud of your daughter who is just trying to be her own person. You are not proud of who I am but only of what I accomplish. You are proud of how “smart” I am. You are proud of my grades. You are proud of superficial things. Would you still be proud if I didn’t graduate? Would you be proud of me if I wasn’t “smart”? Would you be proud of your only daughter for anything other than what you approve of? I see you are ashamed of me. You are not proud that I care for people. You are not proud that I feel deeply and that I long for the meaning behind things. You are not proud of my sexuality. You are not proud of my beliefs. You agreed with every part of me that you put together and held together but when it fell apart you could no longer agree. You could no longer be proud. You say you love me unconditionally but how can that be true with these conditions? Maybe you do not know your own meaning of love. Or maybe you try to tell yourself you love me because if the facade breaks, so will you. But dad I say this is my world. I am already here. But mom I say this is who I am. I am me.

- signed marvellover-12

If you made it this far thank you for listening❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

I hate it cause...a lot of the guilt I carry always holds this quiet thought of, "i should've known better/did better". But the thing is, I couldn't have. Not matter how much I say to myself it doesn't matter or that I'm not forgiven or any less guilty regardless, I didn't know. I was a child, I was young, I only had the world experiences I was given at the time so how I could have been better/known better? Its like asking a toddler why they failed an algebra test. And I know i can't convince myself otherwise (being aware of the faults of my mental troubles will not save me from them), but its true that I'm not at fault for not knowing better. I'm not all- knowing, just didn't know yet.

I'm so tired of feeling guilty all the time. with money, with existence, with my disabilities, my identity. I'm just so tired

I wish I could tell my grandpa I was gay.

Sadly I don’t think he would ever see me that way.

It plays like a sad short movie in the back of my head after I had to confess the things I did in the dark. You told me that anyone who loves the same sex is mentally sick in the head. You said if they go both ways they deserve to be sent to conversion camps to change their sinful desires.

I sat quietly, tears streaming down my face thanking the heavens that it was dark and you were driving so you couldn’t see my melancholy expression and flushed cheeks. I just told you the lie that I needed male attention, but there wasn’t any living in a girls home; so I chose to kiss a girl instead. You believed it. Your traditional views that you raised me to believe about how the marvelous God You worship would never love someone who is a homo. How could God fearfully and wonderfully make yet somehow despise his own “child”? All His children who love the same gender are just fuck ups? So many questions that I shoved down. So many things that didn’t make sense. But how could I be my true self when I wasn’t even raised in an environment where it was acceptable to to share these lustful desires? I had to believe the lies I told you in order to feel sane. All the attention that I sought out from boys who ended up creating more sexual trauma that I didn’t need. I thought the only way they would like me is if I gave them what they wanted. But with a woman there isn’t any expectations just safety and comfort. Soft, sweet, familiar, and tender are only the few of many adjectives to describe what being with the same sex feels like. Something your ignorant mind could never grasp.

Grandpa you always listened to what I had to say and have been the only stable father figure in my life. You used to listen to all of my boy problems and give me the best advice you knew. You were my best friend. Now it’s almost 5 years later and I am an adult now. I also identify as bisexual and without my beautiful soul of a partner I wouldn’t have even come to this revelation about my sexuality until it was too late. I’ve been with about 11 girls I believe, and they were some of the most ethereal and awakening experiences of my time on this planet. The best part is I am still so young that I haven’t even met half of the women I will sleep with yet. That brings joy and a smile to my face but it would only bring you disappointment.

I want to tell you about the butterflies I get when I look into her eyes. I want to tell you about all her interests and how beautiful she is with her blue and purple hair that compliment her sky blue eyes. I want to tell you about how I get mad when she doesn’t text me back. I want to ask you how to play hard to get and cheer me on when I ask her out on a date. Why does it have to be different? It’s the same love just different parts. Prettier parts in my opinion. If you’re the traditional man’s man that you say you are, can’t you agree with me that all women are such magical, gorgeous, sexy creatures? In your mind it will always be a sin for me to think this way and I will burn in hell for my transgressions. It makes me want to sob thinking about how you will never truly understand or accept me for all of who I am now. That’s why I I’m writing this instead because I will never tell you.

It’s okay though, I know what a beautiful person I am inside and out regardless of my sexual preferences. You will never see that side of me. Your loss. In the next life maybe it will be different but until then you will only see what I allow you to. Fucked up that I have to water down myself for your approval but I’d rather have you believe that lie than cut me out of your life completely.

Cheers to pussy and this piece of writing that you will never read.

People say they "have standards" when what they have is a ton of internalized fear and shame they need to unpack and work on.

WHAT ARE YOU ASHAMED OF?

Hi! My name is Nitya and I'm obsessed with shame.

Specifically, I have, for the better part of my life, curated a deep, abiding sense of shame for myself and who I am. According to a random website I found, the opposite of shame is empathy, and despite being someone who does not often opt for tumblr to be my soapbox, how else am I going to get some empathy? I am writing this excessive post because I am trying to give myself exposure therapy, and what better exposure than this? (I would post on facebook, but I have a deep mistrust of people who put important personal things on facebook, and I have no basis for this mistrust at all, but I digress)

So specifically, I feel shame because for the past 25 years, I have lived with undiagnosed and untreated ADHD. When you don't know you have ADHD, a developmental disorder and disability, you work 20 times harder to get things done. You stay up until 4 reading the same paragraph again. You make flashcards, review notes, review of the review notes. You write out notes in as many different colors because it keeps you engaged. You try to force your biology coursework in your brain and just think "it's just harder for you". You start to doubt that medicine is something you can actually do. You begin your first year of medical school dreading it, despite overjoyed and proud, because you know it means no sleep, no joy, no fun, no learning.

That's the reality of my first semester of medical school. Every day was brain fog, every day was confusion. Why was this question talking about the contraindications of a drug when the rest of the stem was about these needle aspirations? Why did everyone else have time to go to movie nights? Why wasn't anything working? Why did I keep failing?

A large number of adults diagnosed with ADHD are women, and it makes sense to me that adults with ADHD also suffer from anxiety and depression. The fear of failure, the crushing defeat when you don't meet other people's expectations, the "why can't I do this" on repeat in your head. And when you're a woman in today's society, it's doubled. You have to be good and perfect and the teacher's pet and every time you work incredibly hard, you are rewarded with "a pleasure to have in class" when in reality, being in the class is torture.

So I lived for the better part of 25 years telling myself that the only way to be good and capable was to work so hard that I gave myself carpal tunnel in both hands, and become nauseous at the taste of marathon runner glucose (an excellent substitute for a meal, I used to think), and have self-esteem so far in the dumpster that it's a shock that I only survived ONE toxic/abusive relationship. Everything I did was in service of avoiding being bad, avoiding letting people down, and avoiding anyone see that I could be anything other than perfect.

And when I found out I had ADHD, that every one of my feelings and experiences had a reason was a shock to me. There was a REASON I couldn't put together the different parts of question stems. There was a REASON focusing felt like a pointless task. There was a REASON that planners, note-taking, meditation, schedules, etc didn't work for me. It was because I was WIRED differently. Once I started medication and therapy, my life changed. School became a joy and everything that I was terrified of went away. Even my anxiety and depression decreased too; I was starting to see how working on the actual problem I had made everything else that held be back dissolve away.

Something that a lot of experts will tell you is that adults diagnosed with ADHD experience guilt, anger, grief, and shame. I'm guilty for all of the people who I forced to listen to me cry as I wrung myself out with imposter syndrome. I'm angry at all the adults who saw a ten year old study until 12 in the morning for a quiz that she doesn't even remember. I'm in grief for all of the years, time, money, experiences that I lost. I'm mostly however, ashamed, that deep inside of me, I'm still not good enough for any of it.

And that's what is so interesting to me. I'm someone with a modicum of medical school background. I kNOW that I have a disability and it's nothing to be ashamed of, that if I ever heard a friend tell me what I tell myself I would shut it down immediately because it is factually inaccurate. I can only imagine that this is a combination of capitalist-only daughter excellence syndrome that drives me to feel this way, but in the interest of anyone who's ever wondering:

Yes, I'm repeating a year of medical school. No, it's not because I'm dumb, it's because I have a disability that I recently learned how to treat it. And yes, I'm in the process of unlearning how to deal with shame that this disability gave me.

What are you ashamed of?

sometimes i forget that I’m allowed to have a sexuality and that it’s okay to express that and enjoy that,,,i’m so exhaustingly consumed by shame all the time and constantly managing my own thoughts that I feel guilty just finding a woman beautiful. the thought of somebody being romantically interested in me makes me feel so anxious and this is part of why