The flow
I don't draft, I don't work an angle, I just fucking... go. Here's what it looks like:
Okay, I won’t beat a dead horse over the head with a hammer, but I need to preface this with:
We are all aware that we don’t live naturally. Yes? Agreed?
Okay, good.
Now, let me begin:
As someone who grew up in a household that couldn’t meet me as I came naturally, and was told the parts of myself that felt most me should be suppressed, a lot of who I am and how I show up online now are the parts of me that were most pushed down. (So, if you don’t enjoy me, blame my fucking mom, okay? jk. ish.)
So now, I look at my daughter as this reflection of myself, not because she is me (she is her own unusual little creature of delight), but as an individual deserving of a voice, even if her brain isn’t fully functional. Regardless, SHE is, and always will be.
Just like you are.
Just like every person is.
Isn’t that wild? God, the concept alone could literally change the world.
(I know. I’m kind of a big deal.)
But, jokes-wrapping-truth aside, there is something to be said about the ability to take a nibble out of life when you’ve been told your nibbles cause rabies.
What I mean is: When you’ve been told your entire life that the way you ‘life’ is inherently unnatural, you start to look outside of yourself for what IS natural. Because, “if not I, then who?”
Said simply, you start to look to other people for what IS right.
Especially as a child.
It isn’t unless and UNTIL someone else who isn’t a total cunt-canoe sees you and is able to mirror back who you really are, that you start believing you were never wrong to be yourself in the first place. This is the intersection of what I actually help people to discover about themselves.
I’ve been gaslit to believe, by numerous people, that who I am is fundamentally a problem (for them). The wild thing is that it took having a child of my own to finally wake up and say, “Fuck that.”
I will not let someone say that to her. I will push a grown woman down a hill before someone says my daughter can’t play Mira (K-Pop Demon Hunters) at the park, flying off things and pretending to slay demons. I will somersault a man off the park sidewalk if he indicates my daughter should be quiet, or move, or be lesser for his inbred insecurities. Nope.
And the same goes for the online space.
We are told who to be, day in and day out, through marketing and agencies that sell youth like it’s something we can ingest or slather to go back in time, to be “okay".
I do not want to be 12 or 21 again, thank you very much. A) I would not have my daughter, and B) I would not yet have been mirrored properly and would still be internalizing every single micro-expression and comment like, “Is this person being kind or just another asshole I must smile at to prevent further harm?”
This is a way broader topic. I was originally coming in here to talk about creating rituals, but, as my brain will do, she went down the deeper path. You are so welcome.
What I intended to say was this:
I was told I was wrong for being me.
I sought who to be externally.
None of it worked. It was exhausting. I tried. I masked like a mother fucking champion. Olympic-level masker over here. (BY GOD).
I burnt out. I got sick. I had to mask depression so it wasn’t weaponized against me.
THEN: I was mirrored. I woke up inside the hellscape I was being told to be grateful for.
I escaped.
NOW: I harass you now on this platform, and on Threads, and IG, and OnlyFans (not like that, ya pervs).
I am happy and unbelievably aware that I am living naturally now.
Now, Max Lugavere would come over and look in my fridge and likely “tsk, tsk.”
But seriously, Max, unless you’re buying me that grass-fed organic beef, Mama is still trying to work out her separation and is currently listed as “self-employed artist and writer”. Mama has no current budget for your premium meats. Mama WANTS YOUR MEATS, MAX (not like that, ya fucking perverts).
But one day, Mama will. Mama will have Max’s meats (God, you guys are filthy).
And here’s the thing I really want you to understand: if you can feel inside my words a sliver of yourself, then listen, safety does not come from staying small inside relationships that tell you the things you feel, your physical deterioration, and your need for rest is wrong.
Safety comes from someone mirroring you properly and saying:
I see you struggling.
It isn’t right. It isn’t normal. It isn’t natural.
You deserve more. Even if the world says you have it good. Even if the world tells you to shut up and stop complaining.
There isn’t a single other meat sack you can slide into to live another life.
This is your life. Please, for the love of god, don’t let finances be the reason you stay. Please don’t let your hope of what could be, or what once was, blind you to who is standing in front of you.
I didn’t. And if you want, I will help you learn how to get out.
When readers and writers support me, you help me build A Steady Ground — which will help women and men escape abusive relationships, unwire generational gaslighting, and escape.
Because I believe you. I see you. You deserve more.
I say the same three things to my daughter any time someone is unkind.
I say the same things to people who ARE unkind, but I phrase it this way:
I believe you believe that. I see you right now, and yes, you deserved more. This is not my responsibility, it never was.
It doesn’t mean they are right. It means they are hurting.
It also means we don’t wait around for them to figure that out.
You matter.
<3
God damn, was that a runaway article today, or what?
P.S. I was going to tell you how my Morning Dump is how I start my day fresh (not shit… my 10-min brain dumps), and that I end every night painting a layer onto my 1000 Layers painting.
People think consistency is hard. It’s not. It’s trying to do things that are consistently not built for your brain, body, and mind, because you’re following someone else’s rules or expectations.
People are not less intelligent or less creative, they are less EXPOSED to the free time to build and generate. Duh.