@theodosiagrace / theodosiagrace.tumblr.com
from the bottom of my heart I hope everything works out for you. I hope you’re finally at peace with yourself, and I hope you are successful in every aspect of your life. I hope you wake every morning with a smile, I hope you find light in darkness and solace in solitude. & I hope you know I really loved you.
kids remind me, often, of the things i've taught myself out of.
i have a big dog. he looks like a deer. he is taller than most young children. while we were on a trail the other day, a boy coming our direction saw us and froze. he took a step back and said: "i'm feeling nervous. your - your dog is kind of big."
goblin and i both stopped walking immediately. "he is kind of a big dog," i admitted. "he's called a greyhound. they are gentle but they are pretty tall, which is kind of scary, you're right. their legs are so long because they are made for running fast. i am sorry we scared you. would you like us to stand still while you move past us, or would you feel more safe in your body if we move and you stay still?'
"oh. i didn't know that about - greyhounds. i think i ... i want to stay still," he said. at this point, his adult had caught up to us. "i'm nervous about the dog," he told her, "so i'm - i'm gonna stay still." she didn't argue. she didn't make fun of him. she just smiled at him and at me and held his hand while goblin and i, with as wide of a berth as we could make, crept our way through.
behind us, i heard him exhale a deep breath and kind of laugh - "he was really big, huh? she said it's because greyhounds have to go fast."
"he was big," she said. "i understand why that could have made you a little scared."
"yeah. next time i - next time do you think i could maybe ask to touch him? when - i mean, next time, maybe, if i'm not nervous."
later, going to a work event, in the big city, i stood outside, trembling. my social anxiety as a caught bird in my chest. i took a deep breath and turned to my coworker. she's not even really my friend yet. i told her: "i feel nervous about this. i am not used to meeting new people, ever since covid."
she laughed, but not in a mean way. she said she was nervous too. she reached her hand out and held mine, and we both took another deep breath and walked in like that, interlinked. a few people asked us - together? - and i told the truth: i feel nervous, and she's helping. over and over i watched people relax too, admitting i feel really kind of shy lately actually, thank you for saying that.
the next time i go to an event, and i feel a little scared, i ask right away: wanna hold hands? this feels a little dangerous. i hesitate less. i don't hide it as much. i watch for other people who are also nervous and say - it's kinda hard, huh?
i know, logically, i'm not good at asking for help. but i am also not good at noticing when i need help. i've trained myself out of asking completely, but i've also trained myself to never accept my own fears or excuses. i have trained myself to tamp down every anxiety and just-push-through. i don't know what i'm protecting myself from - just that i never think to admit it to anyone.
but every person on earth occasionally needs comfort. every person on earth occasionally needs connection. many of us were taught independence is the same thing as never needing anything.
each of us should have had an adult who heard - i feel nervous and held our hand and asked us how we could be helped to feel safe. no judgement, and no chiding. many of us did not. many of us were punished for the ways that we seemed "weak".
but here is something: i am an adult now. and i get nervous a lot, actually. and if you are an adult and you are feeling a little nervous - come talk to me. we can hold hands and figure out what will help us feel safe in our bodies. and maybe, next time, if we're brave, we can pet the dog that's passing.
this is just beautiful from beginning to end
well considering the linear nature of time and aging id love to hear the alternative
Eugène Berman, 1899-1972
Cassandra, ca.1942/43, oil on canvas, 127.3x99.4 cm
McNay Art Museum, Inv. 1982.79
I'm real sorry for the person I'm about to become now that The Last of Us HBO has aired but. This is who I am now.
i love how delusional some articles of clothing are, like you read the tag and its like “hand wash only/tumble dry on low” son you are a cotton tshirt. youre going in the warsh and whatever happens in there is in gods hands
just had a flashback to me in 3rd grade absolutely blissed out just staring at this pic
Misconceptions and misinformation always bothered me so badly even as a kid, no matter what they were, I absolutely could not stand to catch someone thinking something untrue or distorted without them being challenged on it. And for most of my life everyone older than me would dismiss that with “so what, only idiots believe that stuff anyway” or “it doesn’t matter, some people are just weird” or “why do you CARE if they’re wrong?!” and after these last several years I’ve never been more unhappy to be validated
This MIGHT be an autism thing? Cause, I’ve felt this EXACT same way my entire life as well.
Allegedly yes, its said to come from “inflated sense of justice” in both autism and ADHD people, apparently feeling urgency to correct errors and difficulty letting go of any misunderstanding is somehow considered a symptom of a disorder to some folks instead of just how everyone should always be.
@ the readfems making the “a cis boy who is medium at sports could just transition and become a star on the women’s team and get accolades and scholarships” argument:
Okay. Then you do it. Men have all those societal advantages. All the power. The system is built for men. You talk about this all the time. So why don’t you just become one? You want to get those promotions, that respect at the car dealership, you want to walk home at night and look over your shoulder less often. All it’ll take is, you know, a few years on testosterone. Changing your name. Reminding your friends and family to use the new name and pronouns because this won’t work if everyone knows you’re just pretending.
Or does the idea of doing all of that for the hope of a leg up in one or two specific areas seem, you know, fucking ridiculous?
Especially if the area you want a leg up in is the notoriously respected, well-funded and well-paying world of women’s sports
insta: @duckinggoodart
This might not mean anything to most of you but Gabby and I became Tumblr friends in very early 2010. She's one of my oldest internet friends and one of my most favorite, too.
Today we finally met in person!
Internet friends are real friends.
my friends are so cute 😭
