I am a mixed media artist/author & video producer living in the desert. Here I micro-blog my art, chronic illness stuff, & fandom things from Sherlock, Star Trek, and other miscellany. The ask box is always open for advice, questions, & to say hello.
i usually live on my blog journal girl.
Posted on 10 March, 2014Reblogged from thefaultinourspoons
Eee! Thank you so much! I’m glad you’re here. ;)
Posted on 9 March, 2014
I really want to doodle. What should I draw?
Tumblr makes me want to draw little comics all day long. I feel like a split person…lovely layered abstracts one day, drawing cute girls the next.
I went out today and bought this ring for myself. But it’s so much more than a simple black ring. Here’s why:
I feel like one of the amazing things about being on Tumblr is how a lot of people naturally become activists for a whole assortment of amazing things. It’s hard to go through your chosen tags without seeing someone cheering on another, art created to champion a cause, and posts with notes and reblogs explaining and clarifying for others.
After a couple of months of being back on Tumblr, I’ve taken to wandering tags myself and sending out random messages — it’s so easy to reach out, here, and offer good words to another user. And there are so many blogs devoted to just this, answering asks, giving hope. I’ve been lucky to follow a few, and feel bolstered and less alone because of them.
For a great majority of my life, I’ve been different than others. Not in how I look, but in my very experience, the marrow in my bones. My body may look young, but suffers ailments that allow me to identify with older folk so easily. My life is an alphabet soup of initialisms and acronyms, each overcome as though the letters themselves have grown into mountains. Fibromyalgia. CFS. Arthritis. PCS.
There is, however, an identity not thrust upon me by the unfortunate intersection of genetics and accident, but one I found after years of thinking there was something wrong with me. I’m used to thinking my body is broken, but my very self? In an age where physical illness is becoming visible and mental disorder more known, there is still that nexus of sexuality that remains elusive.
I can’t say that my own issues with sexuality are equal to those of children growing up knowing the sex they were born as doesn’t match that in their hearts, or loving those who most say they shouldn’t, but I did grow up feeling like something was wrong.
I’ve lived a lifetime of, “You just haven’t met the right person,” or “It’ll happen in time,” and, “It’s like that the first time for everyone.” And each time, I’d sigh and shake my head, feeling terribly misunderstood, as though people just weren’t listening.
The worst was when I met with a disability lawyer who, when I finished with all his questions, held me behind to ask me, when we were alone, if I’d ever been sexually assaulted because, “Maybe that’s why you don’t want to sleep with anyone.”
Because that must be the truth, right?
There are images we’re inundated with of what young people are supposed to act like. We’re supposed to see people and want to make out with them and have one night stands. Or we’re supposed to find someone we fall in love with and have a relationship with.
And if you’re in this world, what would you think if you never felt sexual attraction to anyone?
You’d think you were broken. Damaged. Had some kind of mental illness that was going diagnosed. You’d question everything in life. Because all around you, people are in relationships and lusting after movie stars and talking about how “hot” that person across the bar is, and you cannot even begin to understand what the hell they’re talking about because the only time you kissed a person, you thought it was wet and gross and not at all fun.
Even after I discovered AVEN and read all I could, I still listened to all those people saying I hadn’t met the right person, etc. I doubted myself for a good long while.
But the longer I’ve been on Tumblr and reading the tags, the longer I’ve seen people describe things I’ve felt and not-felt my entire life, the more comfortable I’ve become with myself. I find myself walking with more bounce in my step and assurance in my experiences.
I’m not broken. I’m not flawed. I’m simply different.
I am asexual & proud.
Posted on 8 March, 2014Reblogged from pampong
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