Back when I was not even old enough to go to school, it hadn't occurred to me that different skintones exist. If someone's skin was beige or brown, I assumed that it was just a tan. So when I saw a black person for the first time, I thought "Wow. I didn't know people could get that tan, cool!" The dumbness of me... lol For reference I live in a country where most people are white.
At what point does someone count as white to the average white person? Like my kids are half Euro/half Philippine raised in the US. Obviously Asians won't accept anyone who isn't over 95%. Like, would my kids count? Would my grandkids? Growing up my best friend was 75% white 25% native American and he always counted as white.
As a child/teenager, I used to trace and copy other people's artwork and then tell people it's my own. I did this because I loved drawing, but I sucked at it and failed to understand that this isn't a talent you're just born with, but that you have to practise to get there. I was ashamed of my own drawings, I felt they were too bad for someone who likes doing it. I feel bad for that now, because I lied to people, especially to my parents who always were so proud of me.
When I was eleven years old, my mom used to force me to hang out with this boy because she was friends with his mother. I never really liked him. he was kind of cocky and spoiled. we were the same age but he was bigger and stronger than me. so one day we were in my house and my mom and his mom were out getting coffee or something like that. when we went up the stairs, he got to the top before me and he spread his arms so that I couldn't get past him. I was still on the steps and he was blocking the way for me. he said something like "I got here first now you have to do something for me." he always did that. according to him, every time he 'beat me' at something I had to do something for him. I think any other day I would have submitted and done whatever he said just so that he'd drop the subject. But I was really frustrated that day and I said "I'm not doing anything for you, move out of the way." But he wouldn't move. I don't even remember what it was he wanted me to do. It was probably something really dumb. He said that I had to. Those were 'the rules.' And he was jabbing his finger in my chest. I don't really know what happened next. I think I yelled at him. Or I said something that really pissed him off. But then he and shoved me and I fell down the stairs. I don't really remember the actual fall. It was just like, he shoved me, then everything went black, then I was crying my eyes out while my mom held me because I was so sure that my arm was broken. But turns out it wasn’t actually broken, it just hurt a lot. My mom still made me hang out with him after that, which sucked because I was terrified of him from then on. I kind of pushed that all to the back of my mind once I stopped hanging out with him, but I realize now, six years later, that my dreams of falling off of cliffs and buildings are due to my falling down the stairs. Also, ever since he pushed me down the stairs, I have done this thing where I purposefully jump off the last five or six steps every time I’m coming down the stairs. I don’t know why. I think I just do it to show myself that I can and that it isn’t scary. I don’t know if that makes sense. The whole thing was dumb and I wish I could completely forget it.
I'm gonna be honest here, when people discuss incels they always take the cream of the shit-crop as example. Trust me, I've been at the point of unquestioned selfhatred and involuntary celibacy, and I can asure you that most of these people are just really sad, do not feel entitled nor hold any unreasonable grudges against anyone other than theirself. Maybe I take the term "Incel" too loose, but to take the delusioned fools that have stared into the abyss of hatred and theoretical social-research as the prime example of an incel is like using a neonazi as the example for a conservative.
I found my old prom photos. On one hand, I hate looking at them because back then, I was fat and that dress was not flattering and my makeup looked mediocre at best. But on the other hand... it makes me feel good about myself now. It reminds me how much weight I've lost and how much better I actually look. I even tried that old dress on to see how it fits me now, and actually... it looks really good. I'm very tempted to alter it and take in some of the fabric (since it's actually too big now) and find an excuse to wear it somewhere.
You asked me if I loved you. You were staring at my face and your fingers were digging into my cheeks. You were four times my age and were supposed to be in charge of me and my sister when my mom was at work. I suppose before all the bad things happened I might have loved you like a boy loves his aunt. You were not my aunt, but I once thought of you as one. But I had red marks on my upper arms from when you would pin me down to the mattress. And scratches on my hips from your artificial nails when you were frustrated and just wanted to take my pants off. I would flinch and my heart would sink with sheer terror every time it looked like you were reaching to grab my pillow. I was always always always afraid that you would suffocate me with it like you did when this all started. I was afraid you would kill me like that. I knew you as a violent person. I don't believe you showed that side of yourself to many people. But you showed it to me and now I'm always afraid. I was afraid then and I'm afraid now. Did I love you? I didn't know what you would do to me if I made you unhappy so I sobbed and stuttered a small, trembling "Yes." And you smiled. I don't remember a lot of the things I said at that age. None of it really mattered. But I always remember that one word and it hurts every time. My mom thinks the whole thing is really hilarious. I know you're on the phone with her a lot and I know you talk to her about me. I know you convinced her that I'm a delusional attention seeking liar. But you and I both know it happened and I hope that one day it haunts you like it haunts me.
When I was a kid, my sister's best friend (two years older) who I had a crush on once grabbed my pussy. I told her to stop, which she did, but the truth is that I liked it. I only told her to stop because I was embarrassed and knew that I wasn't supposed to let people touch me like that. I don't know why she did it, though. I don't think she knew how I felt about her.
I've read up on coalcoholism, and everything I've read describes and explains my family conditions. Now I've got proof that my whole family is living a huge lie, which I already feared. The leaflet explained everything in painful detail, from why familiar interaction seems like a bad sitcom, to my own declining mental health. It had physically hurt to read that. While I often reference Lovecraft, only now I know how forbidden knowledge feels like.
i feel bad for bill cosby, i cried for him. I saw his picture from jail and i saw sadness and a lostness in his eyes. I can't say whether or not i really believe he did all that. of course if he did he should be in jail and those women deserve justice but still its all a tragedy. I am a victim of child sex abuse, by my own father, when they investigated i had complcated feelings about cooperating with law enforcement. i was still a minor when i told my therapist who reported him. my dad denied it (he used to do it when i was asleep .. he even gave me alcohol at 11 so i'd pass out and i wouldn 't be able to tell what happened) I lost my freaking mind due to stress from the silence and being away at a prep school during junior year (college application pressures) my dad was no help in fact he turned my own family against me, he refused to pay for college so i didn't go. I lost all my friends cause they were moving on, I even was reduced to sleeping with men for money because I wasn't allowed to eat any of the food in our house, I couldn't find a job because my self esteem was too low to acknowledge any skills I had, I lost my faith in God. I met ppl in that time who seemed angelic, who loved me when i was a shameful embarassing weak person! I am going back to school this week! i have a full time job with benefits that ive been at for 2 years. I have savings I have credit I have someone waiting at home for me, I have friends! i have my mother and my siblings back! and my nieces and nephews...God came back into my life and made so many changes that i waited for for ten years, all along the way people put me down and took advantage of me, they made fun of my situation, they laughed and convinced me nothing would change. especially my own father. Anyway someone prayed for me the entire time even when ididn't believe, and i wasn't happy with myself and made bad choices. I hope God can do the same for my dad. I honestly think someone molested him as a boy too. and I just have compassion for the victims and bill because who knows what is on his soul that he would ever even need to commit such vile acts to derive pleasure out of life. and if he is innocent?! imagine the turmoil in his soul to be outcast and shamed and mocked humiliated and stripped of everything u know u are... Sin is so sad. Look what it does to all of us and our families and our communities and the world and those that look up to us, rely on us. It's made me take a took at myself...not miscount all the little ways that i can be contributing to very big heartbreaks that affect everyone with even the smallest acts of ego and selfishness. I hope everyone can just be more loving and not persecute each other. Look at each other and see the children we all once were, who had dreams of being something better. that's what we are.