On unsolicited advice
When I write about my feelings here, I am observing my own emotions and commenting on them as a way to express them, understand them, and greet them where they are.
As with all my writing, this affords me an opportunity to experience myself openly, while also opening a door for other people to potentially see themselves in my experience and maybe not feel quite as alone in their own trauma.
Some people with whom I have a relationship can interact with those in deeper and more meaningful ways, using our shared experience as a bridge. But when someone I don’t know at all suggests unsolicited advice it changes my entire emotional context of the experience.
Because the frame becomes not one of me using my pain to quietly to reach out and help others see and experience the normalcy of their own pain. Rather it reframes me as someone asking for others to help me.
Against my will, and without my consent, it twists my vulnerable strength into weakness. Weakness than must be fixed. Weakness which someone else can use to show how much better they are by offering to fix it.
Okay, to answer the simple question: Yes, it would be possible.
But I think it's important to speak to the deeper question here. However, we need context.
You see, this a trojan horse. It is not a real question, illustrated by the fact that the question itself is something like 20% of the entire thing, the other 80% comprising a rather judgemental view of what I should do with my life.
It's a demand that I reorganize my life according to the standards that someone else has for themselves (or feels morally justified imposing upon me). I've heard this kind of demand from so many people now that it's almost comical. People who are very close to me, even.
The reality of this type of demand is that it's not about me. It's never about me. This is about that person. What they want. What they want me to do. It's rarely about what I want, not in any real sense. That's the stated intention, of course–a way to maintain the morally superior position-but the reality is that what I want is clear and I've made it clear, and they have ignored that because they are not concerned about what I want, but what they want.
This kind of "demand dressed as concern" is a situation I'm really sensitive to because it comprises most of the relationships I've had with people in my life. Male friends tried to "teach" me to be a "better" man–ignoring who I actually said I was. Partners tried to "teach" me to be a better heterosexual lover–ignoring who I actually said I was. Everyone is so concerned about helping me fit some mold that they see, but the interesting thing is that mold so often blatantly ignores what I am actually saying about myself. They pick out some tiny nugget they can hold on to and then run with that based on their own desires as if I'm a thoughtless child they have to manage and guide.
And nowhere, nowhere, is that more pushy than in my relationship. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone wants to tell me what I should do. If they listen to what I say at all–and what I say is only a fraction of the fucking reality anyway–but if they listen to what I say, they only listen enough to use it as leverage, as ammunition, to push the outcome they want?
The thing is, the person saying this doesn't really care about me. They want to FEEL like they care about me. They want the appearance of caring about me. But they don't do the work of, say, getting to know me enough to truly understand the financial barriers of buying another house in this market (because they very likely don't even know the market I'm in). They don't know anything about my daily interactions with my family. How I interact with my partner, how I interact with my children. They know nothing of our morning routine. They know nothing about the talks we have with each other.
They don't have any of the actual information that someone who actually cared about me would need to have to make such a serious and life-changing decision. They don't need that information. Because the decision is so easy to make, and they have no consequences. They have no fallout. They can easily say what's right for another person and not have to deal with anything that comes after.
They feel it is their place to suggest living in another house based on what they feel my mental health would be. Because obviously they know everything about my mental health and what would make me happy. Because obviously they know everything about what my mental health would be moving out. They know what's right about my life. More than I do. Much like the people who told me I was a man. They know me better than I do. I should just do what they want me to do.
It's so fucked up because these are vast and life-shattering changes and they throw them out with this moralistic aire of concern like "I just care about you" bullshit. They know literally nothing about me. Whoever asked that honestly knows almost nothing about me other than some extremely curated posts. Even my closest friends here know almost nothing about me. Nor do I really know anything about them! I'm building a picture of their life from a few snapshots.
This question is about them. It's not about me. Not in any substantive sense. The only way it's about me is that it would be nice to have someone else completely change their life and have you be able to say "I was right" without any risk or consequences. But it's not about me in the way that the person writing it has the information to honestly tell me what I should do any more than anyone else in the world has been right about what I should do.
And to bring my children into it? Using my children as a weapon against me like that? To suggest you know anything at all about my children and how they would feel? That you know anything about our relationship at all?
It's just the literal worst.
That's almost as bad as when a person who told me my children deserve to hate me if I don't get a divorce. This kind of "your children will thank you" bullshit is just the most hateful evangelistic shit ever.
Like I get you might have some picture in your head of my kids based on what you want, or what you fear, or what you hope, or any other thing that's about yourself. You can do anything you want with that picture.
But to suggest you know what I should do and you have this suggestion of how my children will feel, when you literally don't know anything at all about them or about us.
Kind of reminds me of all the shit happening in the broader world. Half of the Trans genocide is "think of the children" rhetoric. You don't know anything about my children. You have no idea what kind of conversations I have with my children, and yet you have the audacity to suggest you might know their feelings? You feign this care about them but then would use them as ammunition in a rhetorical argument about what you think I should do with my life? It's absolutely absurd.
Seriously, I hope you find the help you need, but do not ever–and I am deadly serious about this–ever, walk into my house with weird-ass evangelistic suggestions of what I should do with my life.
Unsolicited advice is criticism, and this question is outright emotional violence.
#TylaAMA
No all I can think of is how much I want to be hunted through the winter forest by a woman with a spear who wants to eat me alive.
When I enter your space, stalk me.
Be the shadow retreating in the corner spaces just beyond my sight.
I want to fear the unseen you and jump in fright when the wind shifts the branches of trees.
Then, when I finally break and run, hunt me.
Hunt me as I cry in terror, running from what I know is inevitable.
Hunt me until I’m exhausted and stumbling.
Spear me. Take me down. Tie me up.
Then roast my flesh with the heat of your breath, pouring the savage pain over my skin, over all of me.
Eat me. Eat me alive.
Tear the sinew of my flesh and revel in its bloody texture.
Suck the marrow from my bones as you sit on my quivering body.
Consume me. Take all of me into your predatory beauty.
Leave nothing of me but bleached white pieces of stone, lying open in the sun, to warn the next hapless victim what torturous pleasure awaits her in this haunted place.
I want to fuck like it’s an act of survival.
I want to stumble away from sex dazed and half covered in blood, not caring whether it’s mine.
I want to crawl out of the bed sobbing on the edge of consciousness not knowing whether the creature that tore me open was human or some forgotten Eldritch horror.
I want to be fucked like a final girl.
I think if I had a heist movie frame pic, this is what I’d want it to be:
Kestrel: The Slut
Specialty: Fucking
(Also science, engineering, and anthropology. But mostly fucking. Lots and lots of fucking)
On unsolicited advice
When I write about my feelings here, I am observing my own emotions and commenting on them as a way to express them, understand them, and greet them where they are.
As with all my writing, this affords me an opportunity to experience myself openly, while also opening a door for other people to potentially see themselves in my experience and maybe not feel quite as alone in their own trauma.
Some people with whom I have a relationship can interact with those in deeper and more meaningful ways, using our shared experience as a bridge. But when someone I don’t know at all suggests unsolicited advice it changes my entire emotional context of the experience.
Because the frame becomes not one of me using my pain to quietly to reach out and help others see and experience the normalcy of their own pain. Rather it reframes me as someone asking for others to help me.
Against my will, and without my consent, it twists my vulnerable strength into weakness. Weakness than must be fixed. Weakness which someone else can use to show how much better they are by offering to fix it.
It’s so weird seeing those Christian women with the head covering because everytime I see them I’m like “OMG I love that dress, does it come in slutty?”
My style it’s totally the wayward slutty version of a fundamentalist Christian woman.
Like, same flowered print dress but cut 2/3s off the bottom and make the neckline low enough that my push-up bra sticks out.
It’s so weird seeing those Christian women with the head covering because everytime I see them I’m like “OMG I love that dress, does it come in slutty?”
Oh look, another backlash for casting a Black actor as a cartoon character. Also, it’s Tuesday. And this water is wet. Finally fuck everyone who does this.
https://flipboard.com/@teenvogue/teen-vogue-jm9re0u9z/-/a-p2NIMs6yTouVRtQPhXoRyg%3Aa%3A1803938999-%2F0
I want to tell my Trans siblings that things will get better because cis allies with step up but like I been Black waiting for white allies this whole time so the only thing I can say “Y’all know y’on y’own, right?”
I have been having a lot of thoughts lately about neurodivergent and aloneness. I keep hearing about friends with ADHD or autism who are mostly alone.
Not necessarily lonely, but often alone. And it keeps coming up in the sense of being OK with being alone. As in they have to explain that they are not lonely even if they are alone. Like often they seek being alone.
Does anyone have experience with the sizing of Pleaser vs OnlyMaker in the higher size ranges?
OnlyMaker 15s are hella small, wondering how Pleaser compares.
#BoostsWelcome
There are very few people who are safe for a manic pixie girls. Everyone wants to “help” us, or “correct” us, “fix” and “repair” us. We are always seen as people with lists of deficiencies or with an energy to be taken advantage of when convenient but turned down or off when not wanted. There is always a change we could make to be better.
All of this is Vulcanization.
Manic Pixie Girls need to be manic pixie in out way, not yours. Making us wear a mask turns us into Vulcans. This is a kind of death for us.
It’s also misogynistic as fuck.
The frustrating thing about being Trans is that everybody has an opinion about who you should be, how you should dress, what you shouldn’t wear, how you should act, everything. And you’ve heard this your entire life. And you come out and spend an enormous about of energy finding yourself through all that bullshit, and then people still fucking do it. Even other Trans people.
And never do they say “maybe I should listen to them and what they want about themselves.”
Like simmering else always wants to write the story instead of letting us write it ourselves.
Okay, to answer the simple question: Yes, it would be possible.
But I think it's important to speak to the deeper question here. However, we need context.
You see, this a trojan horse. It is not a real question, illustrated by the fact that the question itself is something like 20% of the entire thing, the other 80% comprising a rather judgemental view of what I should do with my life.
It's a demand that I reorganize my life according to the standards that someone else has for themselves (or feels morally justified imposing upon me). I've heard this kind of demand from so many people now that it's almost comical. People who are very close to me, even.
The reality of this type of demand is that it's not about me. It's never about me. This is about that person. What they want. What they want me to do. It's rarely about what I want, not in any real sense. That's the stated intention, of course–a way to maintain the morally superior position-but the reality is that what I want is clear and I've made it clear, and they have ignored that because they are not concerned about what I want, but what they want.
This kind of "demand dressed as concern" is a situation I'm really sensitive to because it comprises most of the relationships I've had with people in my life. Male friends tried to "teach" me to be a "better" man–ignoring who I actually said I was. Partners tried to "teach" me to be a better heterosexual lover–ignoring who I actually said I was. Everyone is so concerned about helping me fit some mold that they see, but the interesting thing is that mold so often blatantly ignores what I am actually saying about myself. They pick out some tiny nugget they can hold on to and then run with that based on their own desires as if I'm a thoughtless child they have to manage and guide.
And nowhere, nowhere, is that more pushy than in my relationship. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone wants to tell me what I should do. If they listen to what I say at all–and what I say is only a fraction of the fucking reality anyway–but if they listen to what I say, they only listen enough to use it as leverage, as ammunition, to push the outcome they want?
The thing is, the person saying this doesn't really care about me. They want to FEEL like they care about me. They want the appearance of caring about me. But they don't do the work of, say, getting to know me enough to truly understand the financial barriers of buying another house in this market (because they very likely don't even know the market I'm in). They don't know anything about my daily interactions with my family. How I interact with my partner, how I interact with my children. They know nothing of our morning routine. They know nothing about the talks we have with each other.
They don't have any of the actual information that someone who actually cared about me would need to have to make such a serious and life-changing decision. They don't need that information. Because the decision is so easy to make, and they have no consequences. They have no fallout. They can easily say what's right for another person and not have to deal with anything that comes after.
They feel it is their place to suggest living in another house based on what they feel my mental health would be. Because obviously they know everything about my mental health and what would make me happy. Because obviously they know everything about what my mental health would be moving out. They know what's right about my life. More than I do. Much like the people who told me I was a man. They know me better than I do. I should just do what they want me to do.
It's so fucked up because these are vast and life-shattering changes and they throw them out with this moralistic aire of concern like "I just care about you" bullshit. They know literally nothing about me. Whoever asked that honestly knows almost nothing about me other than some extremely curated posts. Even my closest friends here know almost nothing about me. Nor do I really know anything about them! I'm building a picture of their life from a few snapshots.
This question is about them. It's not about me. Not in any substantive sense. The only way it's about me is that it would be nice to have someone else completely change their life and have you be able to say "I was right" without any risk or consequences. But it's not about me in the way that the person writing it has the information to honestly tell me what I should do any more than anyone else in the world has been right about what I should do.
And to bring my children into it? Using my children as a weapon against me like that? To suggest you know anything at all about my children and how they would feel? That you know anything about our relationship at all?
It's just the literal worst.
That's almost as bad as when a person who told me my children deserve to hate me if I don't get a divorce. This kind of "your children will thank you" bullshit is just the most hateful evangelistic shit ever.
Like I get you might have some picture in your head of my kids based on what you want, or what you fear, or what you hope, or any other thing that's about yourself. You can do anything you want with that picture.
But to suggest you know what I should do and you have this suggestion of how my children will feel, when you literally don't know anything at all about them or about us.
Kind of reminds me of all the shit happening in the broader world. Half of the Trans genocide is "think of the children" rhetoric. You don't know anything about my children. You have no idea what kind of conversations I have with my children, and yet you have the audacity to suggest you might know their feelings? You feign this care about them but then would use them as ammunition in a rhetorical argument about what you think I should do with my life? It's absolutely absurd.
Seriously, I hope you find the help you need, but do not ever–and I am deadly serious about this–ever, walk into my house with weird-ass evangelistic suggestions of what I should do with my life.
Unsolicited advice is criticism, and this question is outright emotional violence.
#TylaAMA
Tyla (Combat Waifu Yuri Arc)