Good morning, Readers!
This bittersweet piece is by deviantart.com user zarla. Undertale fans would love this. You can get to zarla's deviantart.com page by clicking the image.
So, this is about personal stuff, rather than writing stuff, so if you're not up for it, stop reading now. Here, watch the best bits of one of my Assassin's Creed Origins streams instead:
Okay, so, sometimes in life you have to make really hard decisions.
Like, 'this is going to hurt' kind of decisions.
I've had to make one recently, and while the benefits of going the way I went - most notably the mental health benefits - are absolutely evident, making that decision was still really hard. I cried. A lot.
On occasion, I second guess the decision. The only thing that keeps me from reversing it is remembering the emotional hellscape I journeyed through before making that decision. I think I'll always be in this place, doubting, despite the evidence that the decision was the right one for me.
I had to unlearn a lot of things in order to make that decision, and the largest of these was this:
Putting yourself last.
I've been doing it my whole life, bearing the brunt of really awful things, because my happiness did not matter. Everyone else's did. If it made others happy, or relieved them in some way to treat me like rubbish, or disregard me and the things I need, then that's okay.
Except it's not okay.
I had to learn that I was worth more.
That's a hard lesson to learn, particularly for women, I think. We're always taught that we're responsible for everyone else's emotional well-being. Cover yourself up, girls at school, because otherwise you'll distract the boys and it'll impact their education. Because you're totally responsible for their education. Not them. You. Stand by your man, even if he cheats. If he cheats, it's because you weren't there enough for him. You failed to fulfil some unattainable emotional need. It's your fault he cheated (though attitudes to that are thankfully changing pretty quick). And just what were you wearing? Oh, and your physical pleasure should always come second to your lover's. Also, your health care is less important. Don't forget, your body is a thing to be legislated. It doesn't matter when or even if you want children, what matters is when men want you to have children. On and on the lessons come.
The number of ways we're implicitly taught that we don't matter, our health, our happiness, our peace of mind don't matter is absolutely astounding. I've had to fight generations of conditioning in order to come to the conclusion that I need to take care of me; that I'm worth caring for. Sometimes, the conditioning still wins.
It's genuinely not an easy thing to do. I had help. Lots of it.
Unsolicited advice from me: you're happiness matters. As long as you don't derive it from harming others, you deserve to be happy. You deserve to be cared for. You deserve it. Take care of yourself. You can't help others if you're running on empty all the time. Fill your cup.
Do the work needed to heal yourself.
Sometimes, taking care of yourself means hard work and making difficult decisions.
Life isn't easy. You deserve the time and space you need to make it easier.
Sending you all much love.
Like, 'this is going to hurt' kind of decisions.
I've had to make one recently, and while the benefits of going the way I went - most notably the mental health benefits - are absolutely evident, making that decision was still really hard. I cried. A lot.
On occasion, I second guess the decision. The only thing that keeps me from reversing it is remembering the emotional hellscape I journeyed through before making that decision. I think I'll always be in this place, doubting, despite the evidence that the decision was the right one for me.
I had to unlearn a lot of things in order to make that decision, and the largest of these was this:
Putting yourself last.
I've been doing it my whole life, bearing the brunt of really awful things, because my happiness did not matter. Everyone else's did. If it made others happy, or relieved them in some way to treat me like rubbish, or disregard me and the things I need, then that's okay.
Except it's not okay.
I had to learn that I was worth more.
That's a hard lesson to learn, particularly for women, I think. We're always taught that we're responsible for everyone else's emotional well-being. Cover yourself up, girls at school, because otherwise you'll distract the boys and it'll impact their education. Because you're totally responsible for their education. Not them. You. Stand by your man, even if he cheats. If he cheats, it's because you weren't there enough for him. You failed to fulfil some unattainable emotional need. It's your fault he cheated (though attitudes to that are thankfully changing pretty quick). And just what were you wearing? Oh, and your physical pleasure should always come second to your lover's. Also, your health care is less important. Don't forget, your body is a thing to be legislated. It doesn't matter when or even if you want children, what matters is when men want you to have children. On and on the lessons come.
The number of ways we're implicitly taught that we don't matter, our health, our happiness, our peace of mind don't matter is absolutely astounding. I've had to fight generations of conditioning in order to come to the conclusion that I need to take care of me; that I'm worth caring for. Sometimes, the conditioning still wins.
It's genuinely not an easy thing to do. I had help. Lots of it.
Unsolicited advice from me: you're happiness matters. As long as you don't derive it from harming others, you deserve to be happy. You deserve to be cared for. You deserve it. Take care of yourself. You can't help others if you're running on empty all the time. Fill your cup.
Do the work needed to heal yourself.
Sometimes, taking care of yourself means hard work and making difficult decisions.
Life isn't easy. You deserve the time and space you need to make it easier.
Sending you all much love.
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