Be the change you want to see.

Today I was awakened in The Best Way, it was creative, sensual, and yummy...

Also it gave me fuel to update my erotica fic in progress, so I wrote another chapter for Adventures In Kinktober, and my friend who goes by TuppingLiberty has already been by and read it and gave it her stamp of approval by way of a comment, yay!

She's probably half the reason I'm still coming back and writing for it, she makes it super clear that she enjoys it and offers a comment almost every single chapter. Some of y'all know how good this feels.

I probably have another post with this title. Important stuff, I have to learn over. And over and over.

Sex and shame are inextricably linked in this incredibly puritanical culture, especially for AFAB people.

You learn it young via jokes on the elementary school playground, books you're not supposed to read, shows your parents watch that you're not supposed to understand. Comics.

And now the wonders of the internet, she said sarcastically, offering new ways to shame women and other folks for daring to have desire, to want pleasure, to demand respect and honesty and trust and respect AND sex. And Good Sex.

How dare we.

It's an old tangle, and talking about something with such pernicious roots, both personally and socially, means it's really fuckin' difficult to talk about, even in a good supportive loving trustworthy relationship, even after close to 3 decades of therapy, processing, reflection.

So today I'm saying, I CLAIM THAT SHIT.
I CLAIM DESIRE. I CLAIM PLEASURE. I CLAIM SELF SOVEREIGNTY.

Finally I'm dropping whatever shame remains from this and past relationships' sexual mismatches and dysfunction. I'm dropping my shame about self-pleasure while partnered. I'm composting my shame and fear about my partner's desire and turn ons being opaque to me, and I'll have the fun I want and need to have.

when I invite him (or others) to join me, I won't have the resentment that comes up when my desire is stale and desperate.

I want to be fresh and flexible and agile. More spontaneous, more self nourishing.

That old lesson about filling your own cup first? Yeahhhhhhh I have not been good at doing that in this realm, and it's poisoned a lot of my relationships, left me with a chronic feeling of lack and inadequacy.

I am enough. I'm gonna be good to myself and then let that spill over.

*+*+*+*+*

Relatedly, I'm writing daily this month for Kinktober (which is now showing up in autosuggestion, and that tickles me.) Part of my goal to keep the writing going is to let myself feel my own sexual, sensual, sweet, loving, tender, and playful imagination.

I can't remember if I've linked my archive of our own page back on my profile, but if you like kinky shit search for this username on AO3, riffle through my fic, my tags and bookmarks, and have fun! There's gonna be a TON of new content on the internet this month for folks who love a kinky premise.
😛➰😁✒️🥰👌😯

Chromebook Tab Amnesty today, woooooo!

I was supposed to do a lot of art over the last two weeks. homework for the art class I am taking at mission college with Jeff.

adhd makes it so a lot of the time i have to basically stomp my way through planning A Thing.
right now i am writing a list of the steps i need to take and goals i want to try to complete today.

* make a shared folder for photo references
* move already-downloaded references
* go find and download the rest of the face references
* then put THOSE in the shared folder too
* pick two nose-mouth models and draw them
* pick one shot of Michael Sheen as Aziraphale to try to draw a headshot.
* draw that headshot
.
.
.
profit?

or well, be able to show some homework in tomorrow's Zoom meeting with Prof. Rivera.

uggghhhhhhh

it's funner and easier playing Animal Crossing or reading fic.

I did do a minorly effortful public artistic offering. the full moon was yesterday, and wednesday night i offered single-card tarot readings to facebook friends. Powered through something like 40.

(thank the gods for the Osho Zen Tarot app and screenshots)
Sometimes reading tarot can be very effortful and exhausting, I just decided to tread lightly, take the first impression, and run from card to card to card, holding focus on each individual just long enough to make and interpret the reading.

I think it let me use the leftover energy Ive had hanging about myself as I always do when it's hard to find purpose or to focus on my own behalf. I can usually focus for others. And Wednesday/Thursday being the Supermoon it just felt like I was riding that energy straight through the whole process. took less than two hours, I think.

okay. time to get back to work on collecting all my photo references.

more later!

saw a very #relatable post on Tumblr (when do i not find relatable posts on Tumblr)
#i love tumblr

it said something like, "housebound, communicating by writing, not allowed to touch anyone not of your household. I've never related to Jane Austen's novels more."

so. that's a thing.

had my second Zoom meeting with my trainer, Etty. plagued with technical difficulties because my phone is four years old and the battery crashes like, all the time. Last time we started with the laptop, and shifted to the phone mid session because i hadn't charged up the laptop. LOL
Today the phone just straight up died after a half an hour video call. 75% charged, my right butt cheek. Ran inside, got a battery pack (thank gods for that one burning man art project we did, we have like 5 battery packs) and we finished the session okay.

my leg had started to hurt kind of a lot. no dancing, no workouts, minimal walking, not a lot of stretching. full body tension, you know what i mean if you have old injuries that still give you grief. and now instead my muscles are SORE but not tense in the same way.

i call it "fun-pain". when you cuss going up and down stairs because your inner hamstring is twanging from yesterday's workout. that's fun-pain.

okay now the cat has pinned my arm to the kitchen table while i type on the laptop, might as well make this a long post.

monday mar 16: Notified of Shelter-In-Place (SHIP). washed & folded a bunch of my damn laundry. we were already more or less Hobbiting in place (HIP) so i didn't think i'd mind too much. my thoughts about that have somewhat changed.

Tuesday mar 17: day 1 mandatory SHIP. walked outside w jeff. Met neighbor Jessica, talked about skillsharing and foodsharing, turns out she runs an email list for the local community. picked up dry cleaning (keepign 6' distance) and washed the hell out of our hands.
Video conference with therapist, our first couples counseling. went well, i think.
watched *your name* which totally fuckin deserved the awards it won.

Wednesday mar 18: finished writing "Would you...?" and posted to tumblr.
* did a color sketch of the red tulips on the verge of losing all their petals. Looks good on the black paper, and I think i did a decent job of getting the proportions right. posted photos to my art instagram, which you can see if we're FB friends.
* Started watching Legend of Korra and DAMN THE HAPPY PLACE FOR ME! woo!

Thursday mar 19. Jeff had discovered that the garbage disposal was leaking under the sink cabinet, so he took it out, found it's all rusted and pitted and the motor was... well. not healthy. he ordered a new one (five+/- days for delivery) and we set ourselves up to wash our dishes in the laundry sink. thank fuck we had the laundry sink, but ughhhhhhhhhhh handwashing all the dishes and pots and pans.
* Cut out 25 or so of two kinds of fabric to make medical masks from.
* Finished reading _REd, White, and Royal Blue_ which is SO GOOD that I'll try and put a link in the comments. everyone who like fanfiction and queer fiction will probably love this little AU. it made me so happy, i gasped more than once, laughed out loud, and literally felt my heart warm.

Friday mar 20. slept the hell in, got lost in Tumblr, and didnt get my breakfast till 1153.
* i insisted on us stripping and remaking the bed with fresh sheets because usually we would have had a wednesday visit from the cleaning folks, so we had to do it ourselves. Jeff was helpful when i explained.
* (looking back from the friday following this day, we have GOT to sweep and mop the floors because argh the dust is getting to me pretty good.)
* Jeff repaired the leak in the hot tub that has been costing us $ and gallons. I helped a little by lying on my face on the deck with a mirror so i could see the gasket that was leaking and was able to confirm that it was no longer leaking. perhaps that's not a little thing, can u imaging the PITA of being in the hot tub with tools, then having to climb out and lay down to try and see if you did it right? it's the context switch that's expensive, cognitively. I knew this, blogged about it in my election day post, but confirmation.

Digression: some hospital workers are working the long ass days like I worked on election day, only EVERY DAY. Try to find something you can do to support your hospital workers, your friends and family who are isolated, or people who are hungry.

Saturday mar 21: Jeff and i had sex, yay! it was nice.
* went for a walk around the neighborhood, met Carlos and Yvette on the corner, the house with the short chainlink fence and kids toys in the yard, across from the house with the lemon trees.
* had the idea of offering services to parents i know with short art lessons or reading lessons. should drop a note in carlos and yvette's mailbox to that effect, with my phone number for texting.
* got the idea to take a long drive. after some negotiation with Jeff we decided on santa cruz so we could see the ocean, and i said if we're there anyway we should get take out at Mobo Sushi, which is one of my top three sushi restaurants in the whole Bay Area. So we did. And then we found a bench overlooking a section of beach, watched people dog walking and some kids playing, but almost entirely deserted, relative to how i think of santa cruz beaches. People were all social distancing!
* (i havent talked much about this because a ton of people have been shit talking "stupid people going to beaches" but i feel we were quite responsible, and so was everyone else we saw, adhering to the established guidelines.)
* so we ate sushi and watched the sunset. I took a few photos, they're also on my instagram, it was a lovely ocean sunset. and then we drove home, and washed our hands washed our hands washed our hands.

Sunday mar 22: Jeff starts to set up the little blue office for video calls and working from home. We got my old desk out of the garage (it's a beautiful desk) and assembled it once we moved all the storage out of the blue room.
* Before the coronavirus blew up the world, he had been thinking of quitting his job. I wanted to support him, i know he's hella burned out, but fortunately GrlPurple convinced him that maybe quitting a well paying job with excellent medical insurance just as a pandemic is ramping up might not be the best choice.
* his work is not currently demanding that everyone work full 40 hour weeks. which is a relief.

***end of first week of SHIP

Monday mar 23: *facepalm* just realized that for maybe the first time since i was a teenager i completely failed to note the Ides of March.
* My mood tanked. had a very quiet day, not much social interaction.
* Did make myself get up, sort out the sewing machine, and sewed most of a dozen mask blanks together on three sides. Filmed part of the process and posted video to facebook. #covidclasses
* okay i guess in retrospect that was a fairly productive day.
* watched a video of the Northern Lights with Jeff. it had classical music and was incredibly restful, i felt my face relax while we watched it.
* watched more Korra, and started watching Sex Education on Netflix. I *really* like it, now that we're past the awkward high school pilot interactions. Definitely getting better the more of it I see.

Tuesday mar 24 Couples Therapy session on Zoom with Lara. NOtes: both feeling underappreciated, we need to talk more about chores and requests made of each other. I need better attention signals (my hearing and my ADHD) because Jeff feels disregarded when I miss his bids for attention. I mentioned needing more explicit versus implicit directions, which he didnt want to be responsible for, which is fair but i still need it. we talked about responding to one another with curiosity and patience vs reactivity and defensiveness.
* i wrote up the notes for the session into the google doc we are sharing with Lara (jeff wrote them up last time I think its a good idea if we alternate, both contributing, both taking responsibility)
* After therapy we took a drive out to get groceries. Jeff went in and I stayed in the car, listening to music and facebooking. He's healthier than i am and doesn't have the lung medical history I do.
* We made dinner together and ate, then went to the Tiny Blue Office for a virtual cocktail hour with the Duartes, Roger and Daniel, Mindy and Steve, Amy (GrlPurple), Rob and Laura (and their dogs). That was really nice, so nice it surprised me. I didn't realize that I missed the Duarte daughters!
* new insinkerator garbage disposal was delivered a day early! WOOOOOOOOt

Wednesday mar 25: had a morning Zoom workout with Etty. My first workout in a couple of weeks. I was tense as shit and my knee had been giving me pain from musculoskeletal tension.
* after the workout i had a mood crash, a sad/overwhelm.
* i need to eat more. i know, i KNOW that when i don't eat enough i have a mood crash, i've been hyperglycemic and then now formally diabetic for *years*
* Jeff installed the brand new insinkerator. It's very shiny and very quiet.
* I restored the undersink compartment to its previous storage-shelf self, and moved all the dishwashing infrastructure back into the kitchen.
* Jeff designed and 3d printed the components he needed to install the not-sodastream into the craft sink. Look! fizzy water in my house!
* I cooked salmon for dinner. it was yummy.

Thursday mar 26: Yesterday.
* sore as HELL from wednesday's workout. pectorals and ... i think theyre hamstrings, squatting and sideways moving muscles i need to look up the structure of the thigh because i need to be intentional about strengthening whatever they are. Because my knee doesn't hurt when that muscle is limber. #research goals #exercise goals
* reordered my Rx for levothroid and warfarin
* drove out to get more canned cat food, got curbside pickup at the vet. I paid verbally on the phone and they brought it out to the car when we arrived. also TIL that the Tesla control console screen will let you open the trunk while still in the car.
* Jeff made us a lovely LOVELY lamb dinner, and I enjoyed eating it BUT i must MUST REMEMBER to take my probiotics EVERY TIME i eat an unusual protein because my bowels HATED their job

which brings us up to today

Friday, mar 27. Had another workout with Etty, despite interruptions from phone-battery crash and digestive upset, I feel like it went really well. Since the gym is actually closing for the duration of this coronavirus epidemic, Etty and I need to work out a new payment method. She has two methods I don't have, and I have two methods SHE doesn't have, hahaha.
* leftover steak for lunch and one or two of those mcvities chocolate digestives that are just SO COMFORTING with the last of my tea
* my fingertips/cuticles are starting to crack and peel again. i have a couple of spots that are bleeding, and the manicure i got with Amy and Joanne before the SHIP started has been peeling off. I think I would like to spend a little time exfoliating my hands, trimming up my cuticles, shaping the nails, and painting them again. P sure i have some nail polish remover around here.
* I want to start composting again. I'll work on diverting my green waste and find out if the garden center near us has any of the red roundworms, start up my worm bin again.
* I found some art cards that I can color in and I want to start sending art randomly to friends, and family.
* god WHY AM I SO BAD AT PHONE CALLS i have a voicemail from my sister that's like four days old and short videos from my sisterinlaw that are nearly that old that i haven't watched. UGHHHHHH

Thanks for sticking with me through this long-ass post. I'm going to try again to subscribe to all-yall so i get notices when you post.

sending love and immunity-strengtheners,

Liz

Ten things makes a post.

1. Jeff and I started to take a drawing class together at the local community college. Third class was today and I'm really liking it so far!

2. Things are going better for me and him re: my own headspace and also re: the old resentments and unhappiness we've both been lugging around. He actually suggested that I should go ahead and make the appointment for couples counseling, and that he'd go.

3. Also, there's a new man in my life. He's patient and kind and he thinks I am adorable, sexy, curvy and kind and he tells me so using both his words and his body. I like him a LOT. And he's been really kind, sweet, and patient with me while I needed it. (Our last date was hot, and I needed that. Amazing.)

4. My brain is bad at scheduling and remembering scheduling, but we're going to try to see each other again soon. Yay!

5. Also on the my memory isn't great, Kaiser wouldn't do anything further on ADHD evaluation, so they signed me up for a memory evaluation. Which, okay, yay? Except it's in the geriatric department, so I Feel Some Feelings about that. I'm only FIFTY!

6. ALSO I need to get fitted for hearing aids, this tinnitus is driving me nuts... Also some other hearing related bullshit, dammit.

7. I made bread from scratch! And it was tasty and Jeff and Joanne liked it too. Jenn's recipe and technique, I like this!

8. I'm going to open DW in a Chromebook tab next time I open the laptop so I can come read about y'all's lives. I've been failing in that regard of late and I need to do better.

9. The drawing class we are in gives me faith that soon I'll be able to tackle some of the fanart I've wanted to make for AGES as gifts to authors I love, and THEN I get to learn how to post images on AO3, and after THAT I get to learn podficcing and digital art techniques. Which maybe Jeff will know more than me and can give me tips like I can give him tips with pencil and paper art.

10. I have so many stories to finish! I have so many story fragments and works in progress and while I love writing, it is HARD Work and I am DISTRACTIBLE. *sigh* I can do this.

I can do this.

PS the cat is cute as ever and says hello and "mom if you're going to sit there I'm going to groom you *lick lick lick*"

I've now invited two strangers in australia to read my fic.

I'd ask what in the hell am I thinking but I'm pretty sure I know. They asked, I offered. I may never know if they did read it, but I certainly am proud of my work. Not ashamed.

curious.

I recommended "Pest Control" to Jeff's co worker who asked after my Marvel fic tonight. At least the slashfic is outside that fandom. *shrug*

From October 12th, 2018, 03:28 pm
Inktober/wordtober/poem a day
The prompt was "Nessie" but I'm taking this somewhere else underwater.

Longing.

Have you ever been shamed for what you craved? Has your longing ever been pointed out as wrong or weird or twisted or broken or an imposition or something unnecessary?

I have. I've been shamed for wanting things, for wanting experiences, for wanting people. And I don't think that was right. And most days I'm okay, most days it feels like I'm over it, but today is not one of those days.

The thing about a longing is it doesn't come out of your mind. It's not a thought. It wells up from deep in your belly, deep in your heart, or dare I say it, spirit or soul. You can't talk yourself out of a longing.

You can hold yourself quiet about it, can keep the surface of your personal pond pristine and peaceful. Still, underneath the surface something lives, something moves, something travels. Something roils the water beneath the surface.

And there are days where I can no longer bear to live on the quiet pristine peaceful surface. On a day like today, I sink below to the Deep places, where the water presses through my flesh and into my bones.

I sink down to the deep mud churned places, where I can finally breathe.



2)
KILROY WAS HERE
(probably 2015)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/16903659

...and it takes place after the end of the world.

Oh god, we were SO FUCKING STUPID.
So naive.

those long discussions around the campfire or around the HDTV, cold beers in our hands, hot nachos in the fucking microwave, laughing and joking about the fucking "zombie apocalypse". How we would have this job or that job, how we would hole up in a Costco store, because it would have everything we'd need to survive and even enjoy life after the world ended. The skills we already had or could learn quickly in order to be valuable enough to win our way into someone else's fortified stronghold.

We had NO IDEA. We had NO IDEA what we really needed, what we really knew how to do, how fucking SOFT we were.
How much EVERYTHING would hurt. How much WORK just bloody EVERYTHING would take, how much thinking and planning and acquiring.

How much FEAR. Terror. Absolutely shit-your-pants terror.

We used to say, "I'd get a really good knife, and really good boots, and this kind of backpack and that kind of rifle" without really understanding.
What happens when your knife gets dull? Well, you sharpen it. How do you sharpen it? Do you KNOW how? do you have the right tools? can you recognize something else you could improvise as a blade sharpener, if you run across it? and can you use that blade, even dull, to do what you must to survive another day? It's hard work, gutting a carcass, butchering an animal for meat...

Same goes, obviously, for the REST of all our dumb-shit assumptions about how privileged and lucky and SKILLED we were.

What happens if someone TAKES your tools from you? Those books you treasured, that were the reason why you thought you'd gain admission into someone's guarded bolthole? The boots, the knife, even your CLOTHES. What happens if you're not strong enough to protect them? To hold onto them?

Knowing how to brew beer isn't very valuable when there's not enough fucking FOOD. Nobody really cares about booze when they're starving. Knowing how to bake bread is useless, so are gardening skills, if you can't settle down anywhere longer than a week or two for fear of the scavengers. Wildcrafting is a blessing, and I'm glad every day for what I learned from my beloved Girl Scout Leader, of all things. What she taught me when I was fourteen makes the difference now between hungry and starved to death.

I'm always hungry now, I'm always worried about getting hurt bad enough so I can't run anymore. I haven't had any of my meds in over two years, I've got half a tube of neosporin left and fuck-all chance of scoring any more. I'm getting slower, I hurt more often, I'm lonely as fuck. I'll never stop grieving my husband and my home and the comforts I once took for granted, but I just don't have any fucking TIME to FEEL. Every moment has to be spent in working out how am I going to survive this day, food, water, shelter, taking care of myself, whether I can trust anyone at all. Despair would dog my footsteps if Despair could keep up with me. I move fast for an old broad. Fuck that, I move fast period.

What the fuck am I even doing? Who am I even writing this for? I have no idea who's going to read it, but I'm stuck here anyway till it's dark and I can sneak away through the shadows. Might as well, I guess.
heh.
One thing my shitty childhood was good for. Learning how to hide, to sneak, to find all the places nobody would think to look for me. No, I'm not sharing my secrets. Find your own damn bolthole. Oh. Heh. If you're reading this, I guess you DID find your own bolthole, just that I was here first. Hi.

I'd tell you to keep the faith, but I don't think anyone has faith in anything but themselves anymore. I'd tell you to keep up hope, but I know you know that's a stupid, useless thing to say. I can tell you I'm thinking about you, because it's true. Random Stranger Reading This, I hope you're less hungry and less alone than I am. RSRT, I hope you have someone or something to love and take care of. RSRT, try to be kind. My only happy memories from the last two years are of random kindnesses. Someone scratched directions to a waterhole that hadn't gone dry. Someone left bedding in a bolthole. Someone left the last few pieces of fruit on a tree... that might not have been kindness, that might have been someone who was too big to climb out onto those thin whippy branches at the top of the tree... someone little like me could still get up and out to them.

Once, back in the day, I was fat and prosperous and happy. I thought I was ugly, being fat, I had NO fucking IDEA. I was so lucky then. I was loved, and safe, and pampered and treasured, and I had no idea. Now I'm tiny, wiry, strong, and fast. I have had to be, to survive.

Random Stranger Reading this, despite everything, have hope. Life may be shit right now, but if we all keep going, something has GOT to get better. Maybe I've been off my meds too long, and this is a manic episode, maybe it's just I've exhausted all my fear and I don't fucking have time for anything that doesn't keep me going.

I do have hope. I don't know why, but I do.

It's almost dark now, I can barely see to write, so it's time to pack up and head out silently to my next bolthole.

I hope you can pass some hope along to the next person you meet, and I hope they're worthy of you trusting them.

Good luck, and gods' speed to you.

"kilroy"

Logged reading time: 7:30


3)
poem: Building Strength
(2:30)

why is it painful to let go of unhelpful words?
perhaps these were once upon a time, protectors,
the words bookworm, nerd, gimp, weakling.
the belief that if it was hard, I wasn't meant to do it...
if I were meant to do it, it would surely come naturally?

i can't seem to get my glasses clean
to see my own Self in the mirror
to understand my own wingspan
or the extent of my reach
or how far I can leap

hamstrung by my blindness
the persistence of memory
self image of pale, soft, weak, fearful
but there is so much more to me
than what I used to be

Am I strong? Yes. Am I smart? Yes.
Am I capable? Yes. Am I flexible? Yes.
Am I kind? Yes.
Am I soft?

*smile* Yes, I am soft.
Soft like a pillow at naptime, and comfortable.
Soft like silk sheets, and strong like them too.

Am I brave?
Yes.
Could I write were I still fearful?
Yes, ... but I wouldn't show my heart, were I still fearful.

I don't deal in trivialities.
I want the blood, and the bone, and the sweat,
I want the gritted teeth and the grunts of effort.

I step beyond old useless protectors.
I make myself stronger from the inside
I stand strong

I do not need the deflections of nerd, gimp, weakling.

I see the world as it is and as I would have it
and I reach out my hands
to begin shaping the world
A strong, kind, smart, compassionate world

and my strong hands
will shape it

NOTES: Good audience attention and faces.
Kit said, "damn you got some tasty brains!"
Jeff said, "good pieces!"

Jen and Andrew, Sean and Julia, Suzie and Bala, Mindy and Steve, Jeff and Daniel,
Kit and Amy, all attended!!!

Hey y'all!

Three things makes a post, so:

1) got my cranky old lady calico to the vet for annual shots and checkup and ultrasound of her bladder, of course she yelled and complained a lot but now she's home and asleep with nails "manicured". We're gonna start clicker training soon.

2) FINALLY took my car to get the annual oil change et cetera, three months late but DONE. Maybe someday I will get her vacuumed.

And 3) yesterday I received a writing commission! My first, from Fandom Trumps Hate. 5K words in exchange for a donation to Trans Lifeline, and it's for the Agent Carter fandom! If y'all like that show and wanna help me think of ideas for Peggy and Howard being ridiculously smart clever People Founding SHIELD I'll add you in the credits. <3 (deadline for publishing is Dec 31 this year!)

Tonight i started my occasional reread of The Dark Is Rising, that iconically witchy and spooky Newbury Award winner...

as the kids say these days
#mood

thinking back on the rest of the year, I have to admit that some really good things got done.
rephrase.
I DID some really good things. Some hard things.

possibly one of the hardest things i did was to really write a proper apology for something I said and did when i was sixteen, dumb and lonely and hurting. I lashed out at someone from that place, someone who I thought was part of my hurting but it turned out, not.

we connected on facebook sometime in the last year and a half or so. and I wound up offering an apology, and sharing the WHY of me hurting him intentionally, because i had done that, and I hoped that having context would help him let go of any lingering bullshit from that moment in time.

turns out, I'd only ever spoken about this to therapists. well. therapist. And now that #metoo has entered the global lexicon, it finally felt safe to speak of it, where I felt so much shame about being bullied in the particular way that led me to lash out at E.

i've been describing the release of sharing that story, as like when you get a long deep redwood splinter in your hand. and you work for awhile and you get MOST of the splinter out but the tail end is still stuck in there for AGES and it gets infected and it's painful and you just have to work around it for a long time.

and then one day, you wash your hands in just the right way, and that last bit gets released. Adn you can work it free, finally, and finally you can heal the infection, work out the scar tissue. Un-adapt all the habits you built because that fucking splinter had (I have a momentary reluctance to own this word for my situation but) WOUNDED you.

the particular type of bullying and the story i told around it at the time opened the door wider for me to be in abusive romantic relationships for *counts* at least 10 years? Probably longer.

that splinter is GONE, now.

and I told E. he didn't have to reply to my story but that I hoped he'd accept my apology.

and Elizabeth Regnant, self-crowned, walks out from the shadows and into the light, claiming the throne and crowning myself.

I had so much power and I had no idea.
I had so much potential and I couldn't see it.
I was bound for so long by the stories the world told about me.

I am not bound.
I understand my potential.
My power is clear and near at hand.

I am the storyteller.
Old women are the keepers of the stories.
Old women are the truth tellers.
Old women don't tolerate bullshit, and we enunciate clearly when the emperor has no clothes.
Storytellers are dangerous, we change worlds.
We heal. We make things right, even if just in the story.
We break things in the story so that everyone can recognize the brokenness in their homeworld.

Storytellers are full of power. In some ways of thinking, it's the only power.
If you tell the stories and people believe them, those stories change lives.
Stories... are everything.

every belief system is made of stories. every political movement is made of stories.
every human relationship is made of stories.

See the stories clearly.
Tell the stories wisely.
Demonstrate your love and your understanding through your stories.
Don't fling them about frivolously.

The prompt was "Nessie" but I'm taking this somewhere else underwater.

Longing. Have you ever been shamed for what you craved? Has your longing ever been pointed out as wrong or weird or twisted or broken or an imposition or something unnecessary?

I have. I've been shamed for wanting things, for wanting experiences, for wanting people. And I don't think that was right. And most days I'm okay, most days it feels like I'm over it, but today is not one of those days.

The thing about a longing is it doesn't come out of your mind. It's not a thought. It wells up from deep in your belly, deep in your heart, or dare I say it, spirit or soul. You can't talk yourself out of a longing.

You can hold yourself quiet about it, can keep the surface of your personal pond pristine and peaceful. Still, underneath the surface something lives, something moves, something travels. Something roils the water beneath the surface.

And there are days where I can no longer bear to live on the quiet pristine peaceful surface. On a day like today, I sink below to the Deep places, where the water presses through my flesh and into my bones.

I sink down to the deep mud churned places, where I can finally breathe.