Developing the ability to piss other people off (or even to RISK pissing them off) without knuckling under is pretty much the Holy Grail of emotionally abused kids, I think. We are programmed to respond at the first sign of displeasure, and we don’t have the faith in ourselves and our decisions to weather the storm– or even a mild sprinkle– so we tend to freak out as if the world was ending if a cloud crosses the sun. We freak out about the possibility that we’re wrong, that we’re doing the wrong things, that we’re making the wrong choices, that we’ll make someone angry, because there’s this awful certainty lurking at the back of our minds that says “If you do the wrong thing, you will be in TROUBLE.” And being in TROUBLE is the worst thing, ever, because that part of our brain is forever three years old where our parents are our whole world and being in TROUBLE is the end of everything.

It takes a lot of practice to gain that sort of gut-level knowledge that we’re strong enough to handle this stuff and that the world doesn’t end if someone else is angry at us. It’s not an innate quality that some people have and some don’t; people who grow up in non-abusive homes learn it when they’re young, is all, and the rest of us have to learn it when we’re grown up. And it sucks, and it’s not fair, and it’s not fun, but there’s no getting around it, and you can do it, you CAN.

You can piss people off.

You can be wrong.

You can fuck up.

You can do stuff that everyone thinks is weird.

AND IT IS ALL OKAY. The world won’t end. You will still be a good person. And the likelihood is that most of the things you do WON’T be wrong, and WON’T piss people off, and WON’T be up-fuckery, and WON’T be weird, but if it is? The hell with it; fix it, if necessary, and move on.


Paul Bennett, Rain (2011)

Paul’s work is internationally praised for being awesome! This UK based artist makes these open ended, beautiful abstract paintings. They can literally be anything you want them to be (interpretation). I just chose the blue paintings because it’s my favorite color, albeit not the most powerful piece of his work…ok I lied, but it’s just ridiculous how he just does this with his brush while I still struggle to paint my work. Be sure to check out more of his work at his site.




I was home alone for the evening and so I took a bath and ate custard with tiger bread and walked around with a face mask on and watched We Bought A Zoo and cried quite a bit during all of those things because all my lifestuff at the moment is making me sad/stressed.

I can’t even express it properly it’s all a tangle. I feel really alone in it. Got decisions to make and motivation to find.





It seems like the title of an onion article, but it’s actually very serious. A study published today in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences found that hurricanes with feminine names killed significantly more people than hurricanes with masculine names.  The authors looked at several decades of hurricane deaths (excluding extreme outliers like Katrina and Audrey) and posed a question: 

Do people judge hurricane risks in the context of gender-based expectations?

 According to their study, the answer is a big yes.

Laboratory experiments indicate that this is because hurricane names lead to gender-based expectations about severity and this, in turn, guides respondents’ preparedness to take protective action.

In other words, because of some deep-seated perceptions of gender, people are less afraid of hurricanes with feminine names. And that means they are less likely to evacuate.

damn.  looks like mother nature is coming for your sexist ass.



Why was I made the size I am?


As weak and short and small and all of the physical things that I am. why is it that my feet are smaller than a thirteen year old’s, why can the dog pull me over, why am I made to have to shout at the top of my lungs to get the attention of year nines, who are about a foot taller than me?

Why do I have to spend my life relying on people to reach things on shelves, carry things for me and walk slower so I can keep up?

Why was I made weak and small? 

Why does my disposition and personality have to match? I’m almost invisible!

Why, on top of this do I have to be burdened with a chronic illness at 17, which makes me even more reliant on people for accommodation and care?

I can’t gain weight, I can’t build muscle, and I definitely can’t grow! I can’t make up for it in boisterousness, can’t realistically just talk louder and anyway, my voice gets tired pretty quickly and when it does, I talk quieter than usual with much more effort.

Why wasn’t I built so I could defend myself? Look after myself?

In some part I can understand why God might want me to learn to depend on people more, in the way of putting down my pride. But, this seems a little unfair. 

I feel unsafe a lot around men because in the past my small and weak-ness has been taken advantage of by those that can very easily, should they choose to, overpower me. If I were able I’d keep myself in better physical shape so I’d feel less vulnerable when walking home at night. I’m sure I’d feel less at the mercy of those around me in general if I were 5’7” rather than 5’2”. Just more of a presence in the space I take up would be nice!