💓

The more you know!

💓

All-New Wolverine #21

Graffiti in Rockville, Maryland in memory of 23-year old Saudi trans woman Eden Knight.

Eden died after being forcibly detransitioned in Saudi Arabia, after being trafficked from the US by a security contractor named Michael Pocalyko.

Rest in peace Eden

Transphobes will not win

Jason & Friends

ALL this.

I question the character of adults who are jealous of children.

I'm noticing that adults are often very offended when they see a child who has something they themselves didn't have in their childhood. I've had someone randomly start ranting about how their own grandchildren have 'too much toys', and how they don't appreciate any of it. They went on to explain how they, as a child, only had one toy, and they had to play with that one alone. They're also upset that children can now use phones, which also wasn't an option in their own childhood.

This is concerning to me, because while busy noticing all the things that children have, which are toys and phones, people don't tend to notice the things we had that are no longer available to the new generations. Planet free of pollution, free of climate change, adults got to experience that. Economy that isn't in this bad of a state, availability of jobs, education being worth something, financial safety, probability of owning a home. All of this has critically declined and turned into unstable, unreliable and difficult to manage situation for children, to the point where there's no clear path to a safe future anymore, for anyone. Current children have to invent jobs and find a way to produce a safe future without relying on an existing path, something that was available for most of the population in the past.

And the availability of phones and toys is not necessarily a luxury; back then nobody had a phone, or a mountain of toys, so it would be unusual and privileged for just one child to have it. But when everyone has that, it would be unusual and almost humiliating not to have it. The prices of these had reduced, they're more available and easy to get. The phones connected to the internet will ensure that the child will be exposed to a lot of information every day, and they'll have to find a way to deal with all that, it can become overwhelming and damage their attention span and emotional stability, if they're constantly exposed to distressing or disturbing information, which often finds its way to kids.

What will it mean for their life, if they had toys and phones as kids, but later on, they don't have a safe job? They can't hope to have a home of their own? They are not at freedom to financially plan their futures, their families, they have to depend on their own parents or relatives to get by? What will it feel like when they can't count on the climate and safe and reliable food sources? What when they're suffocated by the financial demands of just staying alive and fed? What if they don't have anyone to help financially? What if they're rendered mentally ill by the stress and perils happening in the world, all of it so close to them via constant overload of pain and suffering?

Having toys and phones is nothing compared to having an experience of a safe, stable, predictable life, on a planet with a normal, stable climate. We failed to secure this to our children. We have no business being jealous that they now have a phone.

This is a result of the inhumane decisions that members of this administration want you to be silent about in public for fear of a loss of “civility”.

Happiness Will Come To You.

ppl are so annoying “you can’t paint ur bedroom pink you’re an adult” i did not spend my entire life waiting to grow up and control my life to paint my bedroom beige

Abusers don’t come with warning labels.  Abusers don’t hit you on the first date. They don’t write “I will humiliate and belittle you” on their Tinder profiles. They don’t wear “I break things to intimidate my partner” t-shirts. People don’t get trapped in damaging relationships because they saw an abuser coming from 20 yards away and decided “I’m going to date that person anyway”. That’s not how any of this works.  In the beginning, abusers can be some of the most thoughtful, attentive people you’ll ever meet. They’re obsessed with you; that’s what makes them so toxic and deadly as time goes on. Abusers buy you flowers. They remember your birthday. They remember to text you “good morning” and “good night”. They listen to your problems, confide in you and share silly inside jokes. They can keep that “loving, doting partner and best friend” mask in place for months or years if they have to.  So the first time they scream at you or hit you, you don’t see an abuser. You see your best friend, your confidante, the person who brought you soup when you were sick and always laughs at your stories about your nutty coworker. You tell yourself they just had a bad day. Maybe they were tired, sick, hungry, or under a lot of stress. You know them. You’ve made a life with them. And they’re so sorry and so ashamed of what they did. This isn’t who they are.  And so things go back to back to normal for a while. Wonderful, even. This is still one of the best relationships you’ve ever been in, even counting that one incident. You go back to date nights, cozy nights in and 5-hour-long conversations that feel effortless. And then it happens again.  And you still don’t see an abuser. You see the person who means the most to you in the whole world. You decide that maybe they’re just struggling. Maybe they have mental health issues. They’ve told you every horrible thing that’s ever happened to them as a child, and maybe it has something to do with that. But either way, they’re not an abuser. Not yet. They’re just a person who needs you more than ever.  Then things are good for a while. Then something bad happens. Then it’s good again. Then it’s bad. Good. Bad. Good. Bad. And every time it happens, it gets a little harder to get out. The time you’ve invested in the relationship goes up, and your self-esteem goes down. By the time you realize that, yes, the person you thought you knew is an Abuser with a capital A, you’re in deep. You’re a frog that stood in a pot of water so long it turned you into soup before you even noticed it was getting a little warm. But you didn’t ask for this. And you certainly didn’t know it was coming.  We have this image in our heads of what abusers must look like. We picture brawny men with low foreheads and stained white tank tops, screaming at their wives while they drink beer in front of the TV. We think they’re like wildlife, as if we could spot them with the help of a guidebook and know to stay far away from them. But they’re not. Abusers can be anyone. They can be female. They can be accomplished. They can be well-groomed. Queer. Politically far-left. Politically far-right. Artists. Athletic. Charitable. Intelligent. They can come from any walk of life, any spot on the gender spectrum, any religion, any background. It’s not the abused person’s fault for not spotting them - they can’t always be spotted. It’s the abuser’s fault for abusing.