I am so used to thinking of myself as pathetic and vulnerable and submissive and awkward that I’m surprised every time I look in the mirror and see someone strong and masculine and clear-eyed and everything I have always wanted to be
Ok, someone just brought my attention to one of my old art which I totally forgot about… Specifically to the one I drew yet being inspired by the Honorable Ones teaser before the actual episode and I must admit despite the art is old and crappy now I still am very proud of myself right now… xD
My aunt told my dad that im trans and now my family has sort of coerced me into meeting with him this weekend even though we’ve been estranged because of his emotional abuse.
I am not fucking around tho and im proud of myself for protecting my boundaries and insisting upon being respected. Its such bullshit tho, he had the nerve to ask my mom and aunt why we don’t trust him not to be transphobic and sexist and his first message deadnames me.
Its ridiculous how much gaslighting and denial of harm and false equivocations he uses, and I’m only now able to name and stop that shit in its tracks at the age of 25.
So...I actually was very productive today. I studied a bit for a test I have coming up, I updated some of the hours for the club I’m in, I took two online quizzes, completed two written assignments, and a journal entry that I had to do. I’m still a bit behind on some things, but I am still proud of myself for getting so much done today. Oh! I also finally made an appointment with my advisor regarding registering for my required Practicum course.
This whole thing, it was so stupid, and it made Annabeth feel stupid, and she wasn’t stupid, she was smart, gods damn it, so why couldn’t she do this? She should have been able to do this.
She only realised she was crying when a tear splashed on to the page of her textbook, blurring the black letters printed on the white page. That tear falling felt like conceding defeat, and soon enough she was crying in earnest, sobbing hard enough that the words became even less intelligible than they’d already been.
She put her head down on the book and let herself cry, feeling terribly stupid and sorry and frustrated. Her whole face felt hot, flushed with anger and annoyance - at this essay, at herself, at the fact that she was a daughter of the goddess of wisdom and she couldn’t seem to write a simple fucking essay.
When the door to her room opened she instinctively straightened, grabbing her dagger and spinning in her seat to face the intruder. When she saw who it was she immediately collapsed back onto the desk, face first, letting her dagger fall to the floor.
She heard Percy shut the door behind himself. There were a few soft footsteps, and then a gentle hand on her shaking shoulder and a quiet question. “Annabeth, hey, what’s up?”