it is hard to explain without sounding vain or stupid - but the more attractive others find you, the more you're allowed to do. the easier your life is.
i have been on both sides of this. i am queer and cuban. i grew up poor. for a long time i didn't know "how" to dress - and i still don't. i make my sister pick out any important outfits. i have adhd in spades: i was never "cool and quiet", i was the weird kid who didn't understand how "normal" people behave. i was bullied so hard that the "social outcasts" wouldn't even talk to me.
i got my teeth straightened. i cut my hair and learned how to style it. i got into makeup. it didn't matter, at first, if i actually liked what i was doing - it mattered how people responded to it. like a magic trick; the right dress and winged eyeliner and suddenly i was no longer too weird for all of it. i could wear the ugly pokemon shirt and it was just "ironic" or a "cute interest."
when i am seen as pretty, people listen. they laugh at my jokes. they allow me to be weird and a little spacey. i can trust that if i need something, people will generally help me. privilege suddenly rushes in: pretty does buy things. pretty people get treated more gently.
i am the same ugly little girl, is the thing. still odd. still not-quite-fitting-in. still scrambling. still angry and afraid and full of bad things. of course it became my obsession. of course i stopped eating. i had seen, in real time, the exact way it could change my life - simply always be perfect, and things can be easy. people will "overlook" all the other things. i used to have panic attacks at the idea others would see me without makeup - what would they think? even for a simple friend hangout, i'd spend a few hours getting ready. after all, it seemed so obvious to me: these people liked me because i was pretty.
i worry about how much i'm being a bad activist: i understand that "pretty" is determined by white, het, cis, able-bodied hegemonies. if i was really an ally, wouldn't i rally against all of this? recently there's been a "clean girl" trend which copies latinx aesthetics: dark slicked-back hair, hoop earrings. i almost never wear my hair like that; i can hear the middle school guidance counsellor advising me that i might fare better if i toned it down on the culture.
the problem is that i can take pretty on and off. that i have seen how different my life is on a day where i try and a day where i don't. i told my therapist i want to believe the difference is confidence, but it's not. and when you have seen it, you can't unsee it. it lives inside your brain. it rots there; taunting. i get rewarded for following the rules. i am punished for breaking them. end of story.
pretty people can get what they want. pretty people can feel confident without others asking where they got their nerve from. pretty people can be weird and different. pretty people get to have emotions; it's different when they get aggressive, it's pretty when they cry with frustration.
of course people care about this. of course it has crawled into you. of course you want to be seen as attractive. it's not vanity: it's self-preservation.
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tease tidbit tuesday
tagged by @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz 💖
more bucktommy the will talk (they're getting there, the conversation went a bit off track lol) - it might be done this week, and then I can focus on the smut, and the buddie fics, and I have a new bucktommy idea inspired by that video of lou barbecuing with his shirt off that I sooo wanna write🙈
prev snippet
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“Well, yeah, of course.” Buck answers easily, his heartbeat speeding up. He’s a little anxious about putting too much pressure, too many expectations out there, but he also knows that even if he did, they’d get back on track, they’d be fine. And besides, Tommy’s smiling, he doesn’t seem freaked out at all. And that’s after Buck brought up children. But if they’re moving forward with their relationship, they need to know what they want out of life. It seems reasonable to have this conversation this early on.
“Good.” he responds, grinning widely. “Now I won't have to stress about your answer when I ask.” he adds, and Buck feels himself blush, butterflies in his stomach going wild. Oh. Oh. This is- this is real. They’re talking about it, and maybe someday soon- he might marry this man. He will marry this man. Tommy wants him forever. Tommy wants him. Tommy wants to marry him and have children with him, and just be with him. Sometimes it’s still so shocking to Buck that someone as great and amazing as Tommy wants him, but he does. Buck’s not sure he remembers the last time he felt this wanted.
“How- how do you know I won’t ask first?” Buck asks, moving his head slightly closer to Tommy, just enough to look into his beautiful blue eyes. It feels surreal, talking about this, when they only dated for a few months, but it also feels… right. It feels like they’re on the right track to get there one day.
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no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwaterninja13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend @theotherbuckley @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @diazsdimples
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I don't truly experience anything
- a poem of some sort, I suppose
aromantic - I've never felt this thing that others say define us as human.
this feeling that in media seems to be the one feature that qualifies an alien or a robot as owning a soul
this one feeling that everyone seems so obsessed over
the thing behind the curtains of everything
the thing that surely, no one could ever live without, right?
I've never been with a person, thinking about how I'd love to spend the rest of my life with them and them alone
I've thought I might have, several times, with my closest friends, the ones I feel comfortable around
but it's not the same
it's not how others describe it
I've never wanted to kiss anyone
the closest I've come to romantic love is platonic
but if it is
if it turns out I'm pan- and polyromantic
if I've only ever experienced romantic love, and never platonic
then I'm still one form of love short from everyone else
I'm still less
asexual - I've never wanted intimacy the way others seem to.
I've never seen a person and felt anything like what people have described
I've never been able picture myself in a sexual setting, and I've certainly never enjoyed it when I've tried
I've never experienced an orgasm, not even sure I could if I tried
I've never felt the need to do anything of the sort
I've felt the want to, sure, but even then, not really
because I've never wanted it for it, I've wanted it to feel included
I've wanted to know what everyone else seem to revolve their life around
I wanted to understand, and to stop being so alien to the people around me whenever I just don't understand something
agender - I don't understand it
really, it just doesn't make any sense to me
never has, and tbh I just thought we'd all agreed to just go with it, because that's what everyone else did
I've never felt like a girl
I've never felt like a boy
I have yet to understand what this "feeling" is supposed to feel like
I'm me
just me
my body exists, sure
and I guess it's keeping me alive, so I'll try not to damage it too much
but it has never really meant any more than that in any way that means anything
it's a house
and you can decorate it to your choosing
and sometimes you'd like to move, but then you look at the housing market at the moment and decide that actually
the house I have now isn't that bad
and of course, you can't tear down a load bearing wall, the whole house would collapse
but otherwise, do whatever you want with what you've got, and you'll be good.
I guess in that sense I've kind of seen trans people as claustrophobic people stuck in a small attic-appartment without windows
the housing market is still horrible, and so they start by making modifications
make a window
let the air in
maybe even make a terrace on the roof out the window
doing what make them feel better
and if that so means I'll have to stop calling their house and attic, because they've expanded so much it's really a proper house now, then sure, I'll change the mailing address, why not?
agnostic - I say agnostic, but really I'm just afraid to say atheist
because I've never been able to believe
I don't even think I've ever really grasped the concept properly
but I want to
I really really do
I want to believe that there's some higher power out there
that there's someone looking out for us
taking care of us
I so badly want that comfort that others seem to get from talking into the void and somehow still feeling heard
but I don't know how
belief is such an amazing thing
belief is unconditional trust, something I'd almost call stronger than unconditional love
it's trusting that someone else will do good without any guarantee beforehand
and yet even when it comes to my closest friends, I can't do it
because I only actually believe in them if I've seen proof of it before, and that's not belief, it's a conditional trust
and I'm so incredibly jealous of the ones who are able to do so
I wish I was religious
a human - ahuman
I sometimes don't think I'm human
and I it
so much
because these are the things that everyone else call "reasons to live"
these are the traits that everyone says define what it means to "be human" or "be alive"
and so if I don't
if I never experience the reasons to live
if I never experience what it is to be human
if I never experience the essentials of being alive
then what am I?
I have no reason to live, so I'm meaningless
I'm not a human, so I'm alien
I'm not alive, so I'm dead
I'm a meaningless alien, dead to the world and to myself
a non-human, walking around with no purpose or light
a nothing
existing in the background
and even then, not really existing either
because what is existence without purpose or life?
a - the greek prefix for no, and the letter that seems to pursue my very being
a-being
a-thing
no-thing
I'm nothing
I'm nothing, wanting everything
staring at the rest of the world as if through the pages of a book that I'm doomed to only ever read and never experience myself
I hate it
I'm jealous
I want what everyone else has
And I'm crying
Somehow
I'm crying
because even with all the everything that I just seem doomed to never feel
for some reason the universe never thought to add sadness to that pile
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