.

It’s just so validating you know. Cause I never knew, right. I didn’t really realise how much I’d accepted and internalised the idea that I fictionalised most my life. To the point that I was honestly willing to live with the idea most my memories were faked.

I wasn’t like a conscious thing, it was just every time I thought I remembered something, my brain is like…are you sure? was that how you felt? is that what happened? and I was so uncertain….and so, like, afraid of the idea that I was lying to myself, that I sorta convinced myself I was. Like why would I be afraid of that if I wasn’t doing it?

And like, I mean this is one thing, and it doesn’t prove much in general. A lot of the rest of it might not be real. But I genuinely believed I would just find a bunch of happy posts about being asexual. I still have panic attacks about the start of 2014, I’ve lost count of how many wasted hours have been spent crying about that period of my life, but at the same time I had no idea if it actually happened.

And to know that it did… to have that sorta…concrete, affirmation in black and white

It just…it helps right? It really fucking helps

I finally worked up the nerve to go through my old social media

I never deleted it, cause like, I knew the day would come when I wanted to go back through it. But I put it off a long time.

I guess what I was really afraid of is that there wouldn’t be anything. That all the dark things I remembered chasing me weren’t real.

But like, I remember when I came out. I remember it was January 2014. I remember it because I found out about asexuality when I was reading Sherlock fanfic after season 3 came out…it’s weird how little things like that stay around

And like, I see Dec 2013

And I see Jan 2014

You can see it. To the day, even. The day I realised that I was a mistake, a broken, failure of a human being, or at least that’s how I felt at the time. Just like. I’m fucking crying. This thing has been following me so long and I’ve been so scared I made it up. It’s been sitting in my archive for years and I was too scared to look.

I remember people asked and I laughed and I told people I just liked gore and death, but I don’t? I have never?? I like the spooky things and the creepy things, but never gore. Never corpses.

 I look at pictures of me back then and I don’t smile. Not really. Not like I do now. I hated my own skin. I have this memory of spending every day I like I was choking, and it was real.

advanced-procrastination:

tami-taylors-hair:

I was in line at Aldi and this girl with two toddlers in front of me had her card declined and she looked so fucking sad and said “let me call my husband real quick” and it was only 18 dollars, so I just paid for it, and she was very sweet and then as she walked off, the lady behind me said `”You know that was probably a scam, right?” and like, even if it was, like what a sad fucking scam, right? 18 dollars at the Aldi. If you’re “scamming” me for some Tyson chicken and apple juice and cauliflower, then just take my fucking money. 

“A scam” people are fucking wild.  

Translated: “i dont understand why you would help another person????”

(via lesbi-gaytogether)

bipolarblueberries:

Ya know what’s cool? Not only respecting a person’a boundary but appreciating the bravery it to took to assert one

survivormind:

Someday I will feel like I am a part of a family.

Someday I will be safe.

Someday I will be home.

parentlesspositivity:

Your interests are not stupid.

Your passions are not pointless.

kekmetic:

concept: platonic physical contact isn’t scary, and you should hug your friends

Why are we, as a society, so god damn afraid of touching each other? Hugging a pal, rubbing their arm in support, giving them a peck on the cheek; what are we all so petrified of? Why do we keep our distance with those closest to us?

We gotta stop pretending that touching someone with affectionate intentions is automatically sexual, or some forbidden thing. We gotta stop teaching our kids to never touch their friends out of fear that it is a sexual act, or that wanting to hug their friends is intrinsically wrong.

It’s okay.

hugs-and-squishes:

It’s important to realize that platonic love can sometimes seem a lot like romantic love.

It can make your heart pound and your stomach flutter. It can make you nervous to act upon it. It can be just as full of meaning and desire as any relationship, and it can be confusing at times, but that’s alright.

If it brings joy, that’s all that matters.