Shout out to everyone who can’t remember back to an idyllic childhood, because that time never existed for abused children.
Shout out to everyone for whom childhood was a never-ending hell with no refuge, anywhere, in sight.
Shout out to everyone who never experienced freedom until adulthood, or until becoming an emancipated minor.
Shout out to everyone whose ‘freedom’ in adulthood may have involved starving, living in filth, living under a bridge, but was still beautiful and still freedom and still ours because by all the gods, it was not the hell that is childhood.
Shout out to everyone who don’t have the option of moving back in with their families, no matter how bad it gets, because that would be worse.
Shout out to everyone who is making their own idyllic time of their life now, in their twenties, thirties, forties, and fifties. Even if it’s really hard, and far from what everyone else would call idyllic, it’s idyllic to us, because it’s not like being an abused child with nowhere to turn.
Shout out to everyone who had to turn down at least some family support because it came with so many toxic strings attached that it would’ve eventually, literally, killed us.
Shout out to everyone who feels like working three jobs and barely making it is the most amazing feeling in the world, compared to being a child with no refuge in the world. Because at least we’re making our own refuge.
Shout out to everyone who’s on SSI, welfare, or disability, and feels like they’re in paradise because this is our life, not someone else’s, even if we can’t eat at the end of the month and have to endure HUD inspections, social worker visits, and other indignities.
Shout out, in short, to everyone who never had an idyllic childhood and is doing their best to carve out a place for themselves in adulthood. And for whom, no matter how hard it gets, it’s still light years beyond the utter and total hell that was childhood.
This is me. This is my friends. This is so many people I know. I love you. I care about you. I’m proud of everything you’ve done, even if nobody else sees it as an achievement. I wish our child selves could see our adult selves. I wish they could see that even with the struggles, we are in general so much happier just for not being children anymore.
More, I wish I could take my child self and put hir in a situation where sie could grow up without all the problems sie encountered. But I can’t see an easy way to do that. By the time the damage was done, it was self-perpetuating, and I lashed out even in good situations. Perhaps especially, because I didn’t trust them. I’m so lucky Laura took me under her wing, I’d be dead without her. My parents meant well but they didn’t have the skills to parent the teenager I became.
But seriously. Adulthood is the true refuge for so many abused and neglected children. Adulthood with all its responsibilities is downright idyllic compared to never being safe anywhere. You can still be an abused adult, unfortunately. But lots of abused kids manage to make adulthood their place of refuge and I am no exception. I have spent my entire adult life trying to create a life where I can be a happy person, a contributing person, a person who helps more than I hurt. And I think I’m getting there. And I watch my friends trying to do the same things, and getting too little credit for any of it.
So this is for all of us.
We’re doing really damn well. Especially where we came from.
When you don’t know what safety is… creating safety for yourself can be a daunting task.
So everyone trying to create safety, refuge, beauty, everything we didn’t have, or didn’t have enough of as kids: You’re doing an amazing job, no matter what anyone says. You’re doing one of the hardest things you can do, and you’re doing it with less support than you probably need.
Seriously I love you all. I care about you more than I can say. I watch you trying to do the same things I am trying to do. And I hope you succeed. Because if you succeed even a little, even hanging by the skin of your teeth, what you’re doing is amazing and probably much better than your childhood.
I asked for your help getting a book off the top shelf and you laughed at my taste and called me a nerd so I shoved you into a table of nonfiction best-sellers and that's how we both got kicked out of the quirky community bookstore. AU Kylo Ren x Reader
There I was in the bookstore yet again. Oversized sweater hanging off my hands, skinny jeans tucked into my boots. It was the third time this week, or maybe it was the fourth. That isn’t really the point. As I browsed the shelves looking for anything I hadn’t read yet, but it seemed that I had outread my preferred section of books in our little town’s quirky little bookstore. Until I saw it. On the top shelf was the Holy Grail of discoveries. The one book I had been looking for since forever. It was perfect I had been waiting for this book to come out since I finished it predecessor last year. I stood on my tip toes, and stretched my arm as far as it would go hoping to grasp the book firmly in my hands. Already feeling the cover in my hands, already smelling the pages, and ready to fill my head with it’s story.
There was one problem. I could not reach it. I fell short. Literally. I barely even touched the edge of the shelf, it seemed like fate had decided that it hated me and would love to torture me. The one thing I want is just out of my reach. I look around hoping that maybe there is a stepping stool, an employee, or even a casual bystander. My luck seemed to turn around because low and behold a tall dark haired stranger happened to be making his way passed me to what looked to be a table with nonfiction best-sellers
“Hey. Excuse me, but can you help me?” I asked reaching my hand out before he made his way completely passed me stopping him right in front of the table. He looked down at me craning his head down so he could look me in the eye before speaking.
“Does it look like I work here, small fry?” The small fry comment making my blood boil ever so slightly, because unlike him not all of us are born to become 6 foot something giants with perfect cheekbones and a jawline from heaven.
“No, it doesn’t look like you work here Paul Bunyan. But you are what I need. I will take like five seconds of your time. I just need you to get a book off the top shelf then you can do whatever else you were doing. Please I really need this book.” I did my best to pull of the pleading desperate eyes hoping he would give and once I saw his eyebrow twitch I knew I had him.
“Fine what book is it?
“The Legend of the Jedi, it’s right over ther-,”I was interrupted by him laughing, be that it was a beautiful sound deep and warm not that I would say that out loud, but the dude had just started laughing out of nowhere, “May I be inclined to ask what you find so fucking amusing,” his laughter got even worse at my comment.
“I should probably say sorry, but you actually read those,” he speaks between laughs, “I mean they’re for like twelve year olds. Like what are you some kind of nerd who can’t let go of bedtime stories?”
At the end of his little speech, though it had been interrupted by his own laughter almost every other word, he looked down at me only to realize that the look on my face could probably make grown men cry. At the moment he must have realized just how much he down screwed up. I craned my neck up to look him in the eyes and before he could even blink I pushed him into the table of nonfiction best-sellers. Books flew everywhere, he might have flipped backwards and one disgruntled employee showed up with a look of pure terror on his face before he ran to get the owner. So he left me and the Paul Bunyan alone. Him staring at me in shock and me with a defiant, at least I hope it looked defiant, smirk on my face.
The owner arrived not even a minute after eyes going wide looking at both of us in shock. Before he raised his voice and let out a bellow
“GET OUT OF THIS STORE RIGHT NOW! AND DON’T EVER COME BACK!”
With the owner’s words both me and Paul Bunyan were thrown out of the store and onto the sidewalk outside. Paul Bunyan looked at me then the store, before he started laughing yet again.
“Why is this so funny to you?! We’ve just been kicked out of the only book store in town! What am I going to do now?!”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you flipped me over a table, small fry,” an arrogant smirk making its way across his lips.
“My name isn’t small fry, okay Paul Bunyan,” my fist balling up ready to punch his perfect face.
“Well my name isn’t Paul Bunyan either, so can I be inclined to ask my attacker her name? In exchange for mine of course.”
“It’s (Y/n), yours?”
“Kylo Ren, and about your book I might know of somewhere else you could aquire it, but I will cost you.”
“How much,” I said while reaching for my wallet.
“It won’t cost you any money, just you have coffee with me at the cafe.”
“I just flipped you over a table, and now you want to have coffee?” Confusion filling my voice.
“What can I say I like living on the dark side of life. Now come on they close at five.” He grabbed my hand pulling me along. Dark hair flowing gently behind him, and all I could only think of two things. One: why did I let myself get into this mess. Two: this is probably the best worst decision I’ve ever made.
I went and came back from the place you are at today. It was deep in the mountains. No matter where i walked, it was within the mountains and my heart really hurts thinking that you are having a hard time in such a place.
if mom can do it, i’d do it for you.
I went all the way to the recruits training centre and came back but it was really scary. I didn’t know where you were training at and i didn’t see many soldiers too. When i saw some soldiers, i wondered if one of them was my baby and could not keep my eyes off. They said the weather has become warmer but it still really cold there.
On our way to your place, your dad and i went to the riverside. It was really beautiful. When you come out on the 19th, we will have to bring you for a drive around there. You will be exhilarated. The pension that we rented is also around the riverside so it’s really pretty and cool.
I hope that the 19th will come quickly. If there is something that you want to eat, write a letter to me. It also seems like the moms have to buy the tools to keep warm so write down the items that you need too.
I’m tired but i can’t sleep. Until then, stay healthy and don’t fall sick.
Ok so I’m calling this. So clare is a pretty intelligent woman right? So why is she being so naive to assume that just because Drew was the last man she slept with means it’s his chlid. It has not yet been confirmed when she conceived because the doctor took her word for her approximate conception date. The condom should be a dead giveaway. It didn’t break, it wasn’t expired, and was used properly. The chance of it actually being Drew’s baby is slim to none. The way you get pregnant while using a condom is if it fails which Drew’s adamant it did not. Once this drags out for a while she will eventually find out how far along she is and I almost guarantee without a doubt Eli is the father. The fact that she decided to keep the baby in the first place was a shock but could you imagine that she aborts her child and may never be able to conceive again? As a pro choice woman I am slightly disappointed she is throwing her future away but to each their own. My point in all of this is the clues are there if you pay attention. I’m certain the baby is not Drew Torres’.