Category Archives: 📓 Ramblings 📓

Dreams and Relationships 💭

The other night I dreamt of someone from my past. The older I get the more I dream of people, rather than my stories/characters, etc. It can really be anyone (though some are more persistent than others, formed out of deep longing and regret, and I wish I could make some of the dreams stop.)

This one was different, because while I still have dreams of them occasionally, rarely do I think of them unless I run into a certain topic (usually online or in a movie) and it makes me go “I wish we could have remained friends because only they would have understood/enjoyed this.”

But several years ago, I had to end the… friendship… relationship… whatever it was. It was odd. I could have handled that relationship more maturely today, but back then, I was all about putting things in boxes, and the mess that was us didn’t fit into any box. Though that wasn’t the only problem with it by any means.

Unfortunately remaining friends wasn’t an option for me, because this person continued to say disturbing and creepy things, and sometimes I worried about my welfare around them. And yet, there was a part of me (a smaller part these days, maybe because I’ve matured and it’s become less important) that only they understood 100%.

I think many people have some part of them that no one can fully grasp. There’s things about close friends, or even my husband, that I can understand as best as I can, but our brains work differently, so there is a limit. It’s a magic moment when a very weird part of your brain is understood to a T by another person.

For me, that part used to be intricately tied to romantic love. I had a very black and white view of a lot of things at the time. I was sheltered and naive (but sure didn’t think so!) Now, I know they don’t need to be intricately tied at all, but it’s too late. Even if it wasn’t, this person really wasn’t stable, and sometimes I felt in danger, which I’m sure they would be devastated to know. But I did.

So I don’t know why I have regrets. I remember being afraid of them, and my husband knowing it (early in our dating.) But a part of my brain must have regrets if I still have the odd dream. Or does it? I don’t know.

I ultimately blocked this person everywhere. It was the first time I blocked someone I’d been romantically involved with. And I had tried not to. In a way, thinking of them still “triggers me” you could say. If I see a photo of them all of a sudden, I get a cold sweat, the hair on my arms stands on end, I get a cold chill down my spine. It’s a reaction like you would if you’re afraid of something dangerous. It’s not a good feeling. So I wonder why I still have dreams.

I guess I always regret friendships dissolving. Regardless of whether I do it, or someone else does. Relationships are so messy. Every person you meet, you know, it’s so unbelievably unlikely for you both to be born at around the same period in history, and then meeting, and then becoming involved with each other. The number of people you’re going to be doing that with is finite, and not as large as you might think. So every connection that is broken permanent is a big loss, in a way.

But sometimes it’s for the better. When I severed this connection, I remember feeling intense relief. So it must have been for good, even if I am nostalgic for good memories…

Maybe I just want to make new good memories. But with COVID, it’s really hard. So every little thing these days, like playing games together or going out to have ramen with Christopher, or something as simple as stopping to have a donut in the parking lot before grocery shopping together, all of that, I treasure it.

Even when he scares me half to death by pushing himself into almost passing out from heat exhaustion, so that he’s sprawled on the floor and I’m yelling at him and trying to be as scary and serious as I can which is incredibly hard because he’s so good at making me laugh —even those kind of upsetting moments, I treasure. Every one. Because every little thing enriches the connection I have with him.

Haha, sorry… this is very rambly and I kinda took a weird turn. I guess in the end it’s just a post about relationships.

You can’t take for granted any connection you have in your life right now. Or ever, really. You never know when everything is going to change completely. As, indeed, it has. So treasure what you have, even if it seems limited by so many constraints right now.

The so-called “new normal” won’t be forever. But the past isn’t coming back either. Don’t take for granted what you have in these COVID times because it’s less than what you had before. Because just as you don’t know what wonderful things are around the corner (and there are: I promise) you also don’t know what you will lose next.

Treasure it all.

You Don’t Even Know Me

I hesitated to blog about this… but it’s still bothering me this morning, far more than I expected, so maybe I’ll feel better if I do. 😞

I hesitated, because giving “haters” too much space in your head plays into their game, it’s what they want, but I feel this person wasn’t specifically out to hate, but rather acting out on preconceived, incorrect notions.

You may have seen my other journal about the group I created, the Snail Club of FA. From that account, I searched the main page for snail art, and faved a lot of cute snail related art and photos. Among these, I favorited two incredibly adorable pieces from a really talented artist with a very charming style.

A few hours later, I received a Telegram message from this artist asking to unfavorite the work. My anxiety spiked immediately; I know even without seeing the full message what this is about. It’s like… the Tumblr mentality has a “smell” that moved on to Twitter, and then Twitter became rank and negative and those people became more active on FA instead, and that person’s message reeked in the same way. If you’ve been in these toxic sites (Twitter and Tumblr, I mean) you’ll know just what I am referring to.

Sure enough, this person’s profile page (which I hadn’t seen) listed babyfurs basically among zoophiles, pedos and nazis on their page, and asked them not to interact in any way.

It’s always odd to me, since I’m not even a babyfur or into diapers (though I am a Little) that people just make blanket assumptions about me. This person doesn’t know me. But they felt a need to reach out to me, creating far more interaction between us than that of my accidental favorites from an account with no babyfur content, to tell me the equivalent of “I think you’re such human scum that I don’t even want the far-removed association of you favoriting two artworks of mine”. While surely not put that way, it was certainly the implied meaning. They could simply have blocked me to avoid further interactions, but they wanted to cause pain to someone they view as inferior to them.

And I admit I was very angry. I was hurt. I didn’t respond, I blocked them everywhere, deciding not to remove the faves. It’s not like they could force me to. I didn’t break any FA rules. That’d show them, right? Right.

…But I did remove the faves, of course. I post on my page that I want no interaction from minors. This is not a FA rule, but a personal request that I am thankful to have honored. This was similar. And despite this person’s ignorance, I didn’t want to be the sort of prick that ignores their request, since I didn’t know that they didn’t want my interaction when I faved that art. It was an honest mistake on my part.

Maybe it’s because I used to be so close-minded to furries and babyfurs once, but it just makes me so damn sad. I wish some of these people who hate our community could see a meet, or come to one of our parties at a convention. Then they might see that it’s really just a bunch of shy adults coloring with crayons, playing in a ball pit, or playing with a giant Jenga tower. Many of them don’t wear diapers, the ones that do hide it well, and often are incredibly shy about it.

I know that for many people, it’s really the fact that people can be sexual and Littles at the same time that puts them off. But what do you expect? Littles/babyfurs are adults after all, and many, if not most, adults are sexual. It’s a need for many, like eating or drinking.

When Littleness is such an intrinsic part of someone’s personality, and that person isn’t asexual, then sometimes wires just cross. Not for everyone, but for many people, it just happens. As long as everything is happening between adults, why judge it?

This shouldn’t be so hard to grasp. It’s so odd to me that my 60+ year old sheltered mom understands babyfurs better than young people. 😔

But anyway. I digress. I’m not sure where I’m going with this. I guess sometimes I forget that people hate me simply for drawing baby animals in diapers, no matter how innocent or non-fetishy my work happens to be, even if I make all of my spaces 18+ to be safe.

Someone I could perhaps have been friends with, automatically hates me, thinks of me as garbage they don’t want touching them in the most indirect of ways, just because my friends are babyfurs or I draw them. Or maybe because I’m a Little.

I never knew when I joined the furry community that it would end up this way. I ended up in the babyfur side because it was the most fun, the most welcoming and friendly. So at least there’s that. But it’s odd, I went and joined a group of outcasts kind of by accident —outcasts within a group that, until not too long ago, were outcasts in society as a whole (and sometimes furries still kind of are, depending on who you ask.)

I don’t know. At the end of the day it’s so sad. I do feel better after writing all this down, so I guess it helped. But now I’m just sad instead. I try to be kind to everyone. I try to draw cute things to make people happy. I know some people aren’t going to like me, but I wish I had a chance to be disliked on my own merits rather than incorrect preconceptions.

Doesn’t always work that way though.

Whistle A Happy Tune ☔

It’s humid. Damp. Moist. I have a special hate for humidity. In Argentina, back in our half-finished little brick house in Escobar, humidity (along with uninvited insects) snuck in all the time. It was an awful, pervasive thing; it dripped off the walls, and off the ceiling onto our faces at night.

It grew mold over my books, and toys, and over our photo albums, and permeated the room with its disgusting smell that still faintly lingers in the few items I have left from that life.

Here in Florida, it’s often humid, but when coupled with sun and burning heat, it isn’t as bad, at least not in the same way. I do hate the feeling of melting when I go outside, but that’s as bad as it gets.

However, we have had weeks of rain, of dark, damp days, even if it doesn’t rain it’s just… dark, and with puddles everywhere from the night before. They don’t dry up. On the puddles, dark green, gross-looking mold grows. Cleaning it is pointless until the humidity is gone, as it’s back in a couple of days.

Out on the porch, everything is damp and dirty. The yard looks sad, as though all the weight in the world were weighing down on everything, giving me very little motivation to spend any time working to make it look any better.

It’s hard to explain, but I look out the window at that scene in the morning, and then sit to read the newspaper, and about our president who point blank refuses to accept the results of the election unless he wins, about protests taking place because people in authority are killing Black men and women with impunity, about families desperate because they are losing their homes and jobs, and don’t know how they will feed their children who can’t even go to school, about people my age who have been widowed by a terrible virus that has become the new normal…

I think about my friends who have lost loved ones to suicide, or their homes to fires caused by an ever-worsening warming of the Earth, and… I don’t know… it’s like the humidity and darkness matches the current state of things, and there is a heaviness over it all, that reminds me vaguely of those very sad and difficult days before I came here to the US.

Except it’s affecting all of us, rather than it being just me in a bad situation and looking enviously at other people doing better. We are all in on it, and it’s everywhere.

Even when I have happy days (most recently visiting with my mom and sis in law in Sebastian) it’s still in the air. Little reminders are all over that this isn’t normal and things are not okay. I don’t mean the virus alone, I mean the current zeitgeist and everything in connection to it.

Not long ago, in a chat over at LittleFort, I made a mention to Mikey about how I feel that if the inconveniences of the pandemic are the worst that one can say to have experienced in their life, even if one gets the virus, it’s still pretty tame compared to what recent generations have had to endure. I made the comparison of the British having to endure the nighttime bombing raids that were the Blitz and literally “keeping calm and carrying on” (the actual origin of this phrase, so grave and touching, that it makes me hate every meme that came out of it).

These people, people just like us and not long ago at all, endured a terrible war, getting bombed in their sleep, but doing their best to carry on. And they were dealing with bad viruses then too, things we didn’t have cures for yet, on top of that. They were dealing with a shattered economy too. And they took it on the chin.

Now, I know what you are going to say: you shouldn’t compare levels of suffering. Generally, I’ve defended this very stance, and still do, so I am inclined to agree. Just because one person suffered more, doesn’t make your suffering less awful to you. And I fully agree on that.

But I believe there is something to be said for gaining a little perspective: if comparing your own suffering with that of others helps you, then by all means do it.

I compare whatever I am going through now, to what I went through in Argentina, and immediately think “this isn’t so bad. I can get through this.” And keeping things in perspective by looking at history makes me realize that as horrible as things are now (and make no mistake: this is horrible, this is very bad, it is likely to get at least a bit worse until it improves) it can be so, so much worse.

I don’t say this to make light of my own sadness at all that has been lost, or of my own fear of what is to come, but simply as a means to keep things in perspective, to stay grounded, and to remind myself of my —of our— ability as human beings to persevere, to stay strong for each other, to smile in the face of hopelessness to get through to another day. Humans are amazing at that. A look at history will tell you that. We are persistent little bastards, finding ways to be cheerful in the worst of situations, to party while bombs are falling, to have a reason to wake up in the darkest of times even when we could be the next to die. Because we’re alive right now.

There’s a lot of pushback these days against smiling when you don’t feel like it. Against putting a brave front when you don’t feel strong or brave. But the whole “smiling through your tears” has been a popular stance through the ages for good reason. Smile enough, and your smile starts to become genuine in spite of yourself. As that song goes,

“Make believe you’re brave, and the trick will take you far,

you may be as brave, as you make believe you are!”

So, I guess go about your day whistling a happy tune in spite of the weight of the world on your shoulders. Because the truth is that just because these days are crappy, you’re still only going to live them once. You’re not going to get them back. So you’ve got to find ways to smile. You’ve got to, for your own sake.

It’s not easy. But what is the alternative? If you can do something to help anything —do it. And if you need to cry awhile, do that too. But after you’re done, smile and carry on. At least you’re not alone, I’m smiling through tears with you, too.

I leave you with this, the song I quoted from, which invariable helps me through hard times just by singing it in my head:

Maybe it’ll also help you.

🌷 My Husband and Me 🌷

Yesterday I was a little quiet as far as responding to DMs and such. I apologize. In addition to my cramps, I’ve been having weird headaches and tinglings in random parts of my body. It feels as though I might have a pinched nerve somewhere, maybe on my spine. It seems worse when I’m drawing. And a lot of the tingling is on my head. But nothing feels serious enough to warrant a risky doctor visit at this time.

The really sad thing yesterday though was that one of my big, treasured snails passed away. While those snails are battling mites, they have not been infested long at all, and they are all still fat, eating, and active, in addition to being treated with a ridiculous number of hypoaspis (I’m not kidding, I put 25,000 in a tiny container with the snails, I’m desperate). The snail that died didn’t look poorly. Holding it, it still felt heavy in my hand, indicating good body mass. So I don’t know what happened but I was so very sad. 😔

Let me insert a BIG ass warning here, do not buy snails from lucky_gary on eBay. She has all good reviews because mites take a while to be noticed by inexperienced owners such as I was, and her snails take a while to die, but they are sick snails, with mites, poor genes and weak shells. Many people have asked her to fix the mite problem before continuing to sell, and she denies having mites at all… not true, sadly. Now my once healthy snails are also sick because they got mites from her snails, and I’ve dropped hundreds of dollars into treating them.

Unless I manage to breed them, the poms are too expensive to get and too hard to get as well. And I haven’t managed to get eggs yet. So if they all die I’ll be SOL. 💩

At least, the weekend was nice. We watched three movies of varying “quality”… Face Off, Parenthood and Sudden Death. I worked on commercial art, gift art, and another illustration for Meganeea:

We went to the mall, and to Kimchi Mart. We had burgers. Cuddled lots. Our weekends have been a lot nicer as of late, actually.

A little over two years ago, when my then-friend of five years and I had our terrible falling out and our little group permanently broke since she no longer wanted me around, both my husband and I felt very lonely and isolated. Our outings with them had been an important part of our lives and one of the happiest things I’d ever known. So, for months after that (actually over a year, if I’m honest) it was really hard and lonesome for us. Even though we would still have friends over, there was something irreplaceable lost.

And then, just as we were determined to strengthen other friendships and make new ones, and had actually started that process, COVID hit. And it was just us again, completely us and rarely any friends. Even more than before.

Maybe the COVID situation helped us come to terms with it, I don’t know, but we’ve fallen into a very lovely and intimate routine. We watch stupid movies and cuddle, we cook for each other, we play board and card games. Sometimes we go to a park or the mall. We’ve become closer than we used to be and enjoy each other’s company more than before. Even something like mowing the lawn together makes me happy because I’m doing it with him. At the end of every weekend, I always feel like I’ve had such a lovely time, even though it’s often just been him and I, at home.

I’ve always treasured my husband and our relationship, but lately even more so. I find myself just staring at him randomly at times, because he smiled a certain way, or made a funny face, or said something sweet. Or just because he’s there. And even seven years later, his face, his voice, just makes me stop for a moment and take it in, kinda like when we were early in our dating, and it hits me how much I love everything about him. And I can’t believe someone like him is my husband. So many lucky things have happened in my life, but that one beats all, for sure.

I’m aware that years are passing and I’m changing, emotionally and physically, and so is he, and even those changes fill me with emotions that are hard to put into words, but I guess at the core they are the feeling of getting older together.

As is often the case with my rambles, I’m not sure how to end this post. Other than, if reading this makes you go “gee I wish I had that” I can’t encourage you enough to be as open minded as possible when it comes to finding a companion to share your life with.

In my 20s I had so many strict requirements. The person had to be a Christian, love books as much as I did, hopefully be an artist or writer or some sort of creative career. Basically any serious disagreements were dealbreakers.

If I’d met my husband just a few years earlier I wouldn’t have dated him. He hates to read, he’s always been agnostic, we have different political stances, and extremely different viewpoints in many things. He’s opened my mind when it comes to many things and I like to think perhaps I’ve opened his a little, as well. But at the core we are very different people, and yet all our friends agree that we work perfectly together. And we really do. I don’t think we’ve had more than three serious fights in seven years (and I can only really remember two, I’m adding a third one for good measure.) And the longer we are together, the less we argue, ever.

If I’d stuck to my guns I would have ended with someone who matched me better on paper but didn’t help me grow into the person I would become. And such a relationship would likely be over by now, or about to be, instead of getting better every day.

Every day you wake up next to the one you picked to share your whole life with, you should feel like the luckiest person alive to have them. That person may not look anything like the series of checkboxes you’ve always had in your head. So keep your mind open.

I’ve gone on and on enough so I’m gonna try to have a little nap. I slept quite poorly last night and still have a headache. I’ve had it on and off for days. Maybe after I sleep I can properly kick start my day.

🌈🐾 The Fandom : A Furry Documentary 🐾🌈

I finally got around to watching this utter gem. I know I’m late to the game and it’s no longer “news”. I honestly avoided watching because I thought it would be, I dunno, cringy, amateurish? As a furry, anything done about furries but “for the mainstream” makes me feel self-conscious, even if done by furries (perhaps especially then.) So I wanted to watch this, but I was afraid in a way.

How very, very wrong I was. I’m going to be sending this movie to many of my non-furry friends who still harbor misconceptions. I wish Netflix would show this. It is so well done, so deeply touching, and took me back to my own first days in the fandom and what it means to me. I teared up more than once and the ache of all the missed cons this year hit me really hard.

But we will all be back, and being reminded of the good of the community until then, helped me a lot. There’s drama and hate within the sub-communities of the furry fandom, and within those sub-communities as well, but the one love that binds us all in the end is still always there, and will hopefully prevail as the fandom continues to grow.

I wanted to share it here and encourage you to watch it if you haven’t yet.

From the video description:

THE FANDOM is a documentary film about the furry fandom. It dives headfirst into the imaginative world of “FURRIES,” the often-misunderstood internet subculture of fans of the anthropomorphic arts. Using a bountiful collection of archival tapes and images, this documentary traces the evolution of the furry fandom from its roots in the 1970s to the expansive, international community it has become today. Join a host of charming characters (including the grandparents of the fandom itself) on this heart-warming journey through the decades; witness the many triumphs and challenges that shaped “furry” into the most unique fandom of all time.

Performative Grief

Is… is that even a thing? I didn’t realize it right away, but this is a big part really of what prompted my rant yesterday as opposed to religion itself (that too, of course, but after thinking about it last night, I wanted to talk about this aspect of it, also.)

Whenever we have a tragedy, most of all a death in the community, there seems to be a hunger for people to connect themselves with that loss in some way. And I get it. But sometimes, it’s kinda weird.

People who never even exchanged a word with, or even followed the art of a community member who passed away, will jump to their page with comments like “Never met you, but Rest in Peace UwU” or that kind of tone —I exaggerate but you get my point. They jump to make art to get on that Twitter hashtag, even if they didn’t know about the person until they found out the person died, even if they didn’t know the friends of that person at all. They rush to buy the commemorative pin, to write something about it in a tweet or journal, and certainly I would say most of the time it’s people being genuinely being affected by a sudden, sometimes violent community death, or trying to comfort those who suffered the loss. So that’s not what I’m talking about.

But other times it’s… something else. Not most times, necessarily. It’s something else that I can’t put my finger on. I wish I could explain it… Maybe someone can explain it for me.

It’s like some people, almost for attention, want to jump up, hand stretched in the air, “Me too, me too!” when it comes to participating in this shared grief. What I’m saying isn’t coming out right… I wish I could express it better.

Whenever someone dies in the community, I am affected. I think we all are. So, I’m not trying to dismiss that. The first time an artist friend of mine died at a young age after a brief illness, I was tremendously affected, and we weren’t super close, just at that point between acquaintances and friends. And I still think about him.

I don’t know. As usual, I am rambling. But I see people pushing someone’s death into conversation in a way that feels like the underlying message is “I’m acting as though this affects me for attention even though I won’t remember this person and can’t tell you a single thing about them and will have forgotten they existed in two weeks” or “Look at me, I’m such a good person for mentioning this.”

I don’t know, and I don’t think I’ve ever written “I don’t know” so much in a single journal. Most of the time this stuff doesn’t come across as insincere to me, quite the contrary. This outpouring of love is a big part of why I love this community.

But if you’ve seen what I’m talking about I’m sure you know exactly what I mean. And if you haven’t, you’ll rightly think I’m being a judgmental prick by nitpicking people’s reactions to a death (which is fair.)

I don’t think I am necessarily blameless, either. When Brandyn died, I made a little post on Twitter with the art I had done for him. There were several pieces. But he wasn’t my friend, and I didn’t grieve for him, I grieved for my friend Kiba, who lost someone he loved. So looking back, I do wonder. Was I, without realizing it, jumping on a bandwagon of performative grief by posting those images?

That little phrase again: “I don’t know.”

Then again, many times since I have gone through my gallery looking for those pieces. I am affected by someone I interacted with several times now being gone, yet always alive in my gallery. I still sometimes go through my gallery to see the drawings of Pandr. I’ll always regret not interacting more with him at cons. I still draw him sometimes, even after he passed. But he and I weren’t friends either. And I’m not going to pretend that we were. My thoughts were most often with Jimmy, who suffered that loss so deeply.

I guess it’s that pretense I often see —of a deep connection that never existed, when others do have a deep connection that is now a source of unbelievable pain to them— that pretense strikes me as disrespectful.

I suppose, if it wasn’t a personal loss to you, that is affecting you, I guess try to make it about the person who suffered that loss, and who is grieving. Comfort them —privately, if possible. Don’t make it about yourself, I guess? I think that’s what it comes down to.

Sorry I’m so rambly lately. People trying to show off how good of a person they are always rubs me the wrong way, especially if I see them lack compassion in other areas (I guess that’s my annoyance with public offers of prayer too.)

But, it’s not up to me to determine the sincerity of people, and really I’m just talking out of my ass, so don’t pay too much attention to me —and if you are grieving, I hope from the bottom of my heart that you find peace.

One Last Note Regarding My Religious Beliefs

In reference to my previous journal… I know there are people in my life who are going to be really shocked to see me write “former” Christian. Especially because right before it happened, I basically went through months of one final, wholehearted, deeply sincere attempt to return to the illusion of safety that organized religion/church gave to me. So I was fairly low key about it, and only one friend even noticed/asked about it. I know some people may even be sad on my behalf. I would have been for others, if the tables were turned, a few years ago.

Part of the reason for this is that I had to accept/admit that I never believed that if you don’t believe that Jesus died for your sins, then you go to Hell. Or to, you know, not Heaven. This is THE key factor in being a Christian and if you believe in this, think really hard about what this means and who it applies to.

To me, the idea that Hell (or just, no life after death) is what awaits someone who led an exemplary life in which they perpetually gave all they had and sacrificed it all for their fellow humans, even if they believe in God, pray daily, even follow Jesus’ doctrines, only because they don’t believe he died their sins, while someone who commits genocide can believe Jesus died for them and gain total absolution, is, I mean, forgive me for this, but it’s a little fucked up.

I know this may seem a big change from who I am, and it is, but it’s not new, and I went through it for the last two years.

I don’t believe in the Bible any more. I suppose in a way I never did, because I kept trying to explain horrible/terrible things about it away with huge mental gymnastics. I still believe in God but I’ve become WAY more sensitive to not forcing any of my beliefs upon others.

ALSO… regarding prayers. If you’re someone who is there for me, who is my friend, someone I can count on, not a random stranger who would just drop “thoughts and prayers ” comments on a journal, of course it would not upset me if you offer prayers. I would be touched, and gladdened, to know that someone is speaking to God on my behalf. It is very different if it’s done by someone I barely know and who doesn’t want to bother to be there for me at all.

On “Thoughts And Prayers”

EDIT: Though it’s mentioned several times below, I want to emphasize again that I’m still a believer in a higher power/God. If you are part of an organized religion, I do not think poorly or less of you, unless you use your religion to infringe on the rights of other people. A journal like this would possible have angered me to read a few years ago before I gained more knowledge. So I understand heated responses, but realize I respect your beliefs. I just don’t think you should use them as a crutch to not take action, or push them on other people.

This is going to be a doozy of a post, but I wanted to get these thoughts out because recently there have been multiple tragedies in our community and I keep seeing this pop up and it’s bothering me way more than it used to, even when I was deep into religion, because I’ve always found “thoughts and prayers” to be a pathetic cop-out, and something that is only said out loud to feel like you “did” something (you didn’t.)

I am a former Christian, and gosh… it’s still hard to write that, much harder than writing “former Catholic”. Indoctrination is a bitch. I’m not an atheist now, or even agnostic. I’ve disavowed any attachment to any organized religion however. But I digress. As a former Christian, and one who was raised into Catholicism, and still consider myself to believe in a higher power and in intelligent design, I can relate to the desire to offer someone your prayers at a time that is possible the WORST in their lives: you don’t know what to do, and praying is easy and free, right?

And yet, I would encourage you to at least consider keeping such religious offers, including of prayer, to yourself, UNLESS you know that the person you are speaking to specifically would welcome your offer of prayers, and be comforted by them.

For one, you could have the opposite effect. A lot of people have been hurt by things connected to religion, or have traumatic memories related to religious upbringing. You may tell yourself, “Well, my offer to pray is well-meant, if that’s going to upset them, clearly they don’t have enough problems.” That’s conceited at best. If you think prayer does something, wonderful. Pray away! I’m not even saying I can guarantee it doesn’t work. But keep it to yourself unless the knowledge of your prayer would bring the person comfort, unless you’re trying to make yourself look good (something that often strikes me as the case… which is gross.)

As an alternative, how about asking the person if there is anything you can do to help, offering them a listening ear if they want to, or a shoulder to cry on? Or making them a drawing? None of these things cost money. I’m not saying don’t include a little end note of “You’ll be in my prayers, if it’s welcomed/wanted.” But don’t freaking push your prayers on people. Don’t tell them how many rosaries you’ll pray. You’re not helping, you just look like you want to tell everyone on a public place how religious you are and seriously, makes my eyes roll so far back in the sockets. 🙄🙄🙄

And more than ANYTHING: don’t tell others to pray for someone if you don’t know their religion. Like, wtf??

You must realize, all of this comes from someone who considers herself a deist still: I still pray! But just to talk to God. And me talking to God is between God and me, because I don’t need others to know how much I pray (that’s weird). I don’t ask God for things because I think that’s so unbelievably conceited of me and I don’t think God can intervene (or would) based on prayer (and I will not even entertain an argument about this in the comments, so don’t even start with me: I’ll respect your beliefs, you respect mine, and other people’s.)

Part of respecting other people is not assuming that everyone belongs to your religion or is comforted by you engaging in it.

Also don’t try to take the easy way out by offering your thoughts and prayers. DO SOMETHING. If you think you can do nothing for someone else other than offering prayers I guarantee you’re lying to yourself. Do something for other people other than asking your God to fix things which often cannot be fixed or helped other than by people propping each other up. I do believe God, or whoever is out there, created us with incredible ability to do this. If you think you don’t have this ability you’re doing God a discredit.

But sitting quietly by yourself repeating Hail Mary’s won’t do that. Don’t pretend it does in order to feel like a saint.

Lol WOW 🗑️🔥

I had Christopher unlock my internet this morning so I could buy some stuff, and before locking it again I checked out this FLO site and the freaking dumpster fire that are the forums and Jesus… it’s like everything that is bad about Twitter multiplied to 1000% lmao.

I am thrilled to see everyone who feels more comfortable in such an atmosphere to leave FA and stay over there instead. No hate if you’re just making a side account there, but it just seems so horrible. I feel for its staff and what they are currently dealing with.

I haven’t seen anyone I care about leave FA. So that’s alright. I’m really grateful for this site and all it does, staff hiccups aside. I already added FLO to my permanently blocked sites after wasting a whole hour lol’ing at forum threads, because that’s a toxic pastime from my Twitter days so… no. 🙅‍♀️

I don’t have anything else to say really but I found the mess hilarious at the same time. I don’t know how these (mostly) younger people handle being so stressed and strung up so much of the time. It looks super exhausting to me. 🙃

PSA: On Call-Outs

(I posted this to FA a week ago, and so I was going to postdate it. But, I’ve edited it slightly.)

If you ever see a call-out on me, my name on some sort of “tea” page, or by proxy with another person or entity, whether on Twitter, Tumblr, FA, Instagram or elsewhere: don’t tell me. I know they exist: if you gain the slightest modicum of notoriety, or befriend someone who has, people will invariably want to take you down a peg or take the person you’ve befriended down a peg by attacking them in some manner that they consider defensible or justified (it’s not: it’s just gross and toxic.)

Add to this the fact that I refuse to distance myself from people just because someone warns me that I am following or interacting with someone THEY consider “bad”, and I, as many others with even a bit of a spine, will be targeted. It’s just how it is, unless you want to a) roll over every time someone gets offended at something you say or do, or b) profusely apologize for DARING to befriend someone who did the latter, and immediately cutting ties. I refuse.

So, if you ever see this in relation to my name, I know maybe you want to be helpful by telling me about it, but you’re not. Notice how I am not on most of those platforms? It’s because I want no involvement with anything going on in them. I have no interest in defending my reputation on them, I could not care less. I know what kind of person I am. I care about the opinion my friends and my family have of me. I don’t care about what strangers on the Internet say or think.

I have been warned of the odd call-out in the past, and while this is certainly not the norm, sometimes the delight of the person being the one to to make my day by letting me know that I’m somehow involved in drama is only too palpable. 🙄

Online, I try to assume the best of everyone, including people who message me about these things, but I’ve been burned before, so it’s rough, and you’re generally going to get a terse response for me even if you meant well. And I AM sorry for that. But no good ever came to my life by someone warning me of something someone said about me, be they friend or stranger. I know a lot of the time the intention is kind: I appreciate that intention. But please, spare us both. 🙏

You have to think of it this way: when it comes to the toxicity of these communities, what I don’t know can’t hurt me –literally! It’s why I left so much social media. I am happy now. I’m not stressed. If you tell me about stuff like that you are destroying the peace I made for myself. At the end of the day I’m still going to ignore any drama people involve me in. But I’d rather just not know, so please, don’t tell me.

For what it’s worth, I would have the same reaction if you “warn” me about one of my friends. My hate for rumors, and their malicious or benevolent spread, is too vicious to be called a pet peeve. I see red (the content of the rumors does’t even matter.) So please do not engage in anything resembling rumor-spreading with me. Not about me. Not about friends. Not about strangers. Not online, and not in person (I ended a friendship partly over how much they talked badly about others.)

I’m sorry for how bitchy I am in this post, especially if you have tried to help me because you were upset to see someone speak ill of me… I am truly sorry to make someone else the brunt of that anger. I am grateful for people who care about me enough to defend my good name.

I simply do not have the time or emotional energy for something so unimportant, so there is no need to bring it to my attention. Thank you.