One Of My Favorite Things About A History Of Abuse Is That The Most Confusing And Even Suspicious Thing

There's a dearth of terms for people in serious relationships that happen to be marriageless, so I call my person's parents my "outlaws." Feel free to steal my cheesy humor.

TW: Rape, Victim-Blaming

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I've seen a lot of things going around about how people should go to prison for claiming rape and then saying it didn't happen. Reminder that victims are often coerced into "taking it back." In the many cases in which the victim knew their rapist, they are often guilted into saying it didn't really happen. Even without such overt pressure, victims will sometimes say it didn't happen simply because of how much they wish it didn't really happen, and how much they wish they didn't have to deal with the fallout. The psychological trauma that can follow denying your own sexual assault is tremendous. Don't make it worse for closeted victims by calling for prison sentencing.

Just because people don't like a thing doesn't mean they're snobs who are shaming others for liking the thing. Let people not like things.

Most, if not everyone wants and enjoys relationships with others. For many who grew up being abused at the hands of those who were supposed to love them, however, the need for loving attention is both pathologically desperate, and needed for healing. The saddest part of this aftermath is that victims also often gravitate towards the abusers, who are more than happy to take advantage. The fervent need for the time, love, and respect of someone is even harder to attain for those who have been groomed to believe that neglect is normal, abuse is deserved, and basic decency is generous. In those relationships where a decent partner has been found, the formerly abused party is more likely to take the relationship quite seriously - why would their partner treat them with respect and be present unless they deeply loved them? Heartbreak ensues when their partner leaves, and they discover that, even though this person cared for them to some degree, that basic respect was not love, but simply the default behavior of a decent human being. Where it often ends is at the panic and self-loathing which dovetail with abandonment issues that come come crashing back in. We are worth more than this.

Random people: "You get to go to college for free since you're Native American, right?" Me: *cries a slow, single tear as the wind picks up my hair and a flute plays mournfully from nowhere*

Getting a hard on looking at skincare I can't afford.

Fuck ageism. When I get old, I'm gonna be like "DAMN, these are some FINE lines."

Every time my hooded eye-self looks at makeup techniques or inspo.

I no longer give a fuck about shopping on Thanksgiving. It is a bullshit holiday, used to this day to spread misinformation about the relationship of the U.S. with Natives. I don't really have a fuck to give that people are having dinner today. People have dinner most days, and you either are truly thankful for your family year-round and don't need another genocide cover-up day to spend one or more of the other three hundred and sixty four dinners with the people you're so thankful for, or you're one of the many who have little to no interest in being around your annoying uncle even once a year, in which case, don't. It's not like it makes it easier for damn near everyone to be traveling at once. And to anyone who ironically, and yet so appropriately, gives me shit for buying food and other necessities on Thanksgiving - a Native trying to get food from largely white-owned stores on a day that was supposedly about Natives sharing their food - I only have this to say.

"I'm not shy, I have social anxiety." -Me to other people "...unless I find you attractive, then yes, I am also shy." -Me finishing the sentence in my head.