These two idiots kill me because what Crowley is hearing from Aziraphale is, “I am able to look past your demonic nature because I love you so much, but if there was a way, I would change that part of you” and what Crowley wants to hear is, “I look at all of you and I love all of you”
Meanwhile Aziraphale’s actually saying, “I love every version of you that I’ve known, but I miss the smile you had when I met you and I would give anything to bring that joy back”
Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
When people think women aren’t capable of misogyny I have to laugh because misogyny isn’t men just being creepy and weird and rating women on reddit. It’s not just statistics on violence and crime stories, even though that is a big part of it.
It’s also republican moms and mean girl sisters who encourage competition between women as peak femininity. It’s also women who think having friends is an equivalent to a bravo TV show that includes hair pulling and slut-shaming. It’s also women who tell you certain things make you ugly and “look like a man.” Women who make fun of feminine features in men. It’s women who think the best way to deal with a patriarchal system is by trying to befriend it so they can try to benefit off of it by “not being like other girls” — the way people boil feminism down to the proximity of femininity and masculinity on the internet really bothers me. Some of the worst misogynists I’ve known in my life have been the republican women I’ve grown up around.
Had this Headcannon that when Multi-Lingual Dick and Jason get drunk they start singing Ballads in Spanish. Yeah some classical shit like Vicente Fernandez but also the most wild Selena you've ever heard.
I'm so sorry, I'm absolutely losing it. I went to my neighbor's today to find out what I would need to do to care for their puppy this weekend, and This Fucking Thing appeared ajgldfkjhfg she is a turkey hen. you know, the birds who quite famously look like this
with no feathers on their heads, or very little, mostly along the spine/top of the head... and this gal just rocks up with not only a LITTLE bit of feathering, but almost completely covered. Even her WATTLE had feathers.
I'mc rying
i said, what the hell is going on here? and they were like
The Batkids: *all sitting on the floor huddled around a phone*
Bruce, walking up: What are you guys doing?
Tim: We're playing a new game. Its like truth or dare, except it is only dare, and all the dares are decided by a random word generator set for verbs, if we need more context we can randomly generate a noun too. Here, Steph is next, watch.
Steph: *clicks the generate a word button* 'appreciate'? *Clicks for a noun* 'Scene'? Am I supposed to go to a play? Look at the top of a mountain?
Damian: you have to get to the top of the hill, adequately appreciate the scene, and get back before your next turn, otherwise you are out
Steph: *gets up and runs out of the house*
Jason: My turn *presses the randomly generate a word button* Request *presses to randomly select a noun* cookies. Fuck yes! Alfred!
Cass, soaking wet, signing: not fair
Bruce: hey, I saw Dick's car out front, where is he?
Duke: he got 'vanish'
Tim: Still better than that time Jason got 'die'
Damian: me next, 'read'
Jason, walking in with a plate full of cookies: you gotta read and finish Pride and Prejudice before your next turn.
Damian: That's impossible! Without Dick that is only 5 people before me.
Tim: Impossible if you sit here complaining. Better hop to it.
Damian: *running to the library*
Duke, stealing a cookie: you wanna try, Bruce?
Bruce: maybe just once *clicks the button* 'grin'
Tim: Batman has to smile for an entire day fighting bad guys and dealing with the Justice League
it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.
you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.
you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.
what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.
it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.
you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.
you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?
a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.
you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.
it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.
something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.