#content warning Tumblr posts

  • elbiotipo
    05.12.2021 - 16 minutes ago

    me encanta vivir en el litoral porque vas al supermercado y están pasando una cumbia que habla de hacer el amor hasta morir y bueno, hay que hacer las compras

    #cosas mias #es un tema bastante romántico en realidad pero igual gkajlsjgs #what's a 'explicit content warning' sounds fake tbh
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  • cryptidpdf
    05.12.2021 - 25 minutes ago

    one of the wildest things to me is when people just write "cw" or "tw" but then dont specify WHAT the warning is for. that defeats the purpose a little i think

    #like the only thing i can think of is people wanting 2 avoid triggering by even saying what the content is #but like. in doing so you fail to actually WARN anyone about what the content is #morgan.pdf #i see it a lot on t*kt*k and it drives me batty
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  • vee-skies
    05.12.2021 - 53 minutes ago

    Well, as it turns out, this gladiator Oneshot isn't going to be a Oneshot at all 😑😑😑

    #why do i do this to myself? #welp. this is my longfic now. #it was supposed to be my pirate High Seas AU as my next longfic but uhhhhhh i got carried away #also. i love being an unreliable narrator. #this shit is fun to write #also word of warning. the gladiator au fic is a lot more intense in terms of content. #but ill be making the content warnings very clear when i write more to it #gladiator au #vee shitposts again
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  • mansikkaomenabanaani
    05.12.2021 - 2 hours ago

    Me, about a week ago: I have NO WIPs I repeat NO WIPS I'm kind of excited

    Me, now: ...maybe I have a WIP

    Also me: still hasn't learned to count six sentences for Six Sentence Sunday 🤷

    Below the cut for the, uh, content:

    He hears Eddie calling out to him but it's muffled like it's through a thick glass wall, and as Buck writhes and screams trying to pull away from his reality, a hand clamps down on his arm. He screams again trying to jerk away, until a face leans closer to his and Buck realises Eddie is still there with him. Buck grabs his fingers needing the anchor because his pounding heart feels like an earthquake is going off in his own torso.

    "I'm here, Buck. I'm right here. I've got you," Eddie says, gripping Buck's hand between both of his own and leaning over him.

    "Eddie, I can't, I can't--"

    "I got you. I got you, Buck. I'm right here. You're okay. You're okay."

    "The last thing I am is okay," Buck chokes out, weeping and inconsolable.

    Eddie lets go of his hand, and the next thing Buck is aware of is gentle arms around him, Eddie whispering repeatedly that he'll be okay into his hair.

    #my writing#buddie fanfic #six sentence sunday #content warning #just to be safe #Buck Whump#Qd
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  • valcain
    05.12.2021 - 3 hours ago

    content warning: fucked up hannibal-esque sexuality

    it's one of the nicer hallucinations will has had. even after the serpent underneath has been revealed, he can't shake the feeling of it. in his own home, soaking in the scent he has grown to know so well, has grown, despite his best efforts, to associate with comfort. trust. a hand touches his face, smooths his hair back from his damp forehead. cups his open jaw.

    tenderly, he is fed that which is he only too happy to accept.

    breathe in through the nose. swallow around it, do your best to push past the slight ache. the object is withdrawn, but the feeling of fullness remains. again he is caressed, hannibal's fingers trailing down his cheekbone - reassurance of a job well done.

    he remembers it later, in the cell, dredging up the false memory along with the real after discarding both. phantom taste on his tongue. phantom eagerness in his chest.

    he tries not to retch further.

    in his dreams it's different. tenderly, he kills hannibal. brutally, he fucks him. only two dreams, that he can remember, concerning the latter, but whether his hands are held around hannibal's neck in caress or violence, he wakes the same way. straining upwards against sheets that offer little relief. dissatisfaction, an ache.

    when will finally allows himself the fantasy, he pictures them back in that kitchen. fitting, given how they circled each other here. and the penetrative act hurts like a knife - god help him, it's all he has. one hand cupping himself, the other held flat against the last place hannibal was inside of him, he finishes with his eyes wide open and his breath ragged.

    under his fingers, pinpricks of blood begin to well again.

    #hannigram#hannibal #idk if this needs other more specific content warnings but let me know if so
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  • rotshop
    05.12.2021 - 14 hours ago
    #FAIR WARNING umm i haven' t watched too too much of eckva #last time i checked in it was like . new so there wasn't too much content #and then when i changed my layout 2 it i was just like 'oh yeah !! that thing!!' cuz i couldn't remember if it was mh or not #n went ' wowza !!! i should check on that im curious 2 see if its still going' and then mc brainrot continued and i simply didnt #but . um . yeah . be wanred i don't really know too many of the tws but from what i've seen its a lot of the same warnings as mh #glitchy / flashing stuff . some blood . maybe de / unreality . there's some face / body horror i think #asks #im sorry this is such a long answer 4 a short question (runs away) #schzunabe
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  • justgalactic
    05.12.2021 - 17 hours ago

    hm listen to Lolita Podcast. listen to Lolita Podcast. hm I think you should listen to Lolita Podcast

    #obviously HUGE content warnings (she’s very good abt having those in the pod) #but. holy shit. holy shit!!!!!!!!! #my posts
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  • 15x8
    05.12.2021 - 17 hours ago

    forgiving my father by lucille clifton is like. poem of all time. of all time!

    #there definitely like could be a content warning here but im not putting one #like theres nothing super detailed but like it is called what its called
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  • calumsclifford
    05.12.2021 - 17 hours ago
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  • belovedgamers
    05.12.2021 - 17 hours ago

    Extremely unfriendly reminder that the tags “suicide mention” and “tw suicide” exist haha

    #suicide mention#tw suicide #people can’t filter stuff out if it isn’t tagged my god #and we shouldn’t have to be thinking of every possible variation of those warnings/words so the content filter will catch them #catrina speaks
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  • steampink
    04.12.2021 - 21 hours ago
    #im giggling irl rn. i DID it /lh #if u ever want like content warnings for it just lmk!! it's a lighthearted anime but there's some stuff that could be a trigger #asks! #shenanigans #OKAY MY LIPS R ZIPPED. I HOPE I DIDNT SPOIL ANY OF IT #yuri on ice
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  • vesperlord
    04.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    You see, the scene at the end of gen:lock S2E5 is actually a subtle metaphor for the show itself

    #tw suicide #tagging that just in case #gen:lock#gen:lock spoilers #i got spoiled on someone doing it and as soon as i realized where Cammie was headed... #also hbo #put your content warnings at the front end of an episode #not after the potentially triggering content #kinda ruins the point of a content warning in the first place
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  • cyancherub
    04.12.2021 - 1 day ago
    #dark content tw #warnings are on individual chapters #ill bring it back for the new year i miss it so much and i want to finish it #AHHHH#my baby #this is so ugly i will make an aesthetique post for it soon. jHFDS
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  • gender-euphowrya
    04.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    the fact that facebook is conducting ‘studies’ by selectively showing specific content to its users to see how it impacts their mindset is Incredibly messed up

    #ann reardon from yt channel how to cook that touched on it a bit in her latest debunking video #basically they tried showing people only positive posts for a week and only negative posts for a week #to see if the people would end up posting positive/negative stuff themselves afterwards #and they did ! the type of content they were continuously exposed to impacted their mood (unsurprising ik) #but like… they didn’t warn anyone they were doing this shit #and also Now they’ve got tangible proof that they are 100% capable of manipulating people #they’ve got the means to sway people’s minds in whichever direction they want by just hammering them with relevant posts #facebook just got confirmation that they’re capable of causing great harm and we’re supposed to Not worry about it ??? #👀
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  • ethrinityskullz
    04.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    I'm not making fun of those hut the fact that there are people who tag mcyt with a "cw" (content warning) is so confusingly funny to me. Like. Content warning on??? Every single one??? There's are so many???

    #like. fr tho. #hulian17 and linkzzey and gisthekey and offseasondnb #most no on here will know those names #but they fall under that mcyt #well theyre twitch not yt but at this point people lump twitch atreamers in #like yeah lmao hulian17 content warning #cant believe thos guy he dares to make big farms and have a cat for a mascot smh /j
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  • jinxvents
    04.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    So I’m not sure if it’s my mental state, but I think I’m ace spike or at least on the Asexual spectrum. I go through random stages of experiencing sexual attraction to sex repulsion. I’ve had these feelings ever since I was assaulted though, so it’s definitely just trauma.

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  • jinxvents
    04.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    Tender touches turn to flame, why doesn’t the burn go away?

    Flames of lust lick my skin, corrupting my mind from within.

    Put on display for all to see in the middle of the hall.

    His lips on my neck as I’m pressed against the wall.

    #trauma#vent#ventcore#content warning#trigger warning #tw sa mention #sa awareness#writing#lyric concept #no means no #silence is not consent #was scared to post this oof
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  • sleephag
    04.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    Marlboro cigarettes (CW violence)

    I was a child growing up on Marlboro cigarettes. An outline of a pack worn into the front chest pocket of your coveralls over the years. In one of the rare, stiff hugs shared, you could hear them crinkle. I remember the fear of getting caught, trying my first cigarette by snatching up what was left of the still-lit one flicked off the back porch. Standing barefoot in the gravel, already drunk on summer sun, trying to hold it right, to look glamorous at 9 years old  in the few seconds I had. To see what the fuss was about. 

    It wasn’t dad without the 7-11 Big Gulp filled to the brim with Mountain Dew. The ice sloshing as you grabbed it by the handle while driving down country roads on those warm days was almost a comfort, the window cracked and cigarette balanced in your left hand. Your truck always had a grit to it. Dirt and stale cigarettes. The strange mix of mountain dew and thick plastic coating my throat when you’d let me steal a sip.

    You’d dip your hand in your pocket and come up with loose change and menthol cough drops. Eating them like candy, never telling me they weren’t. I  would beg for one until you relented. I’d pop it in my mouth eagerly, lint and all.

    It’s difficult to hold both images of you in my mind. The one always up for a drive thru soft serve ice cream cone, chocolate for you, swirl for me. The same joke I almost always fell for that ended the tip of my nose covered in ice cream. The time I got you back with your own joke, the triumph I felt. The one with your forearm across my throat, holding me down against the bed. 

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  • sir-camelot
    04.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    This is going to be a long post. I’ve had a lot on my mind this past year involving my very abusive ex and woke up this morning after a pretty bad nightmare involving him. I’ve wanted to share my experience on this for awhile and I know I’ve occasionally made little posts about some of the abuse, but on the off chance someone here might be in a similar situation that I was or knows someone who is and can share this with them to maybe bring that realization around... well I hope it does some good basically.

    Also another note, I am a trans man and I use he/him pronouns, but I will be referring to my older self and think that my upbringing as a girl has a lot to play in what happened in this.

    Anyways, this will go all under the cut.

    CW: grooming, abuse, racism, violence, sexual assault, suicide ideation

    Growing up wasn’t easy for me. My parents were both addicts and my step dad was incredibly violent. The only reason I think I came out somewhat an empathetic person was thanks to my mom and grandma.

    I was a pretty easy target from the start for anyone really, but most especially someone older. My mom is seven years older than my step dad and my step dad came into my life when he was sixteen, to me that sort of age difference thing was normalized. It also didn’t help that my step dad was the abuser and not the abused so I didn’t think that grooming was a thing that existed. I didn’t even learn the word until probably five or so years ago.

    I was 15 years old, in my sophomore year of high school, when I met him. At this point I was playing Final Fantasy 11 online pretty regularly at my aunt’s place and had even done some online dating with boys my age through this game. A lot of that wouldn’t end up working out, I’ve always been a bit of a larger person, I wouldn’t say at the time I was fat but I was chubby and that was enough to rule me out. So usually when I sent a picture to these guys I would be rebuffed, insulted, and thrown out. It was pretty devastating, especially considering nobody in my area was interested in me either and the few dates I did have, before trying online dating, did it out of pity.

    So I was pretty miserable and lonely, absolutely desperate for any sort of affection from any potential suitor. He was incredibly sweet and I unfortunately made no secret about my age, I was happy to tell him anything about myself. I lamented about my home life and how lonely I was and how often people turned me away or called me ugly and that I just so badly wanted that white knight girls grow up hearing about.

    This was all ammunition of course. He built me up. When he saw my picture he went on about how beautiful I was. He gave me all the right compliments in all the right ways and I was addicted to it. I told him how I felt about him and he played the game of ‘oh it’s not okay, you’re not 18 yet’ and I told him about how my parents were different ages and that they got together when my dad was a teen and there was nothing wrong with that. He let me convince him to get into a relationship with me and that absolved him of any guilt because when anyone would ask him about it I *pressured* him into it.

    I want to remind everyone who might be reading this, I was 15 and his age? He was 28.

    I worshiped the ground he walked on. I stayed up hours each night talking to him on the phone to the detriment of my schooling. So that’s when he started testing my desperation. He played the ‘I don’t think this relationship is right’ game which would fly me into a panic where I begged and pleaded, and sometimes hurt myself by punching things, for him to stay. I’m sure there is someone out there who will read this and think I was the manipulative one in this scenario, but I was 15. I had no understanding of what a healthy relationship was or could be. He was 28, he had a much better understanding of these things and knew what we were in was not a healthy relationship.

    So, after my fits of sorrow he would assuage me and promise to stay... he did this enough times for me to know that this was him testing the waters to make sure I was fully invested in him. That’s when he started seeping in other manipulations and abuse in how he talked to me, telling me things like ‘I’m the only one who can deal with you’ and ‘No one will ever love you like I do’. My self-worth became intrinsically tied into whether or not he was happy with me.

    He was the person I lost my virginity to at the age of sixteen, which was another nail in that coffin of desperately tying myself to this man. Girls have a lot of pressure put on them in their youth to save their virginity for someone special, someone you want to be with forever. We’re not allowed to really explore sex without it meaning something deep and it in part pushed me to stay with him because I had given him something that was so special.

    Now at this point you all might be asking where my parents were in this. Well, my mom felt too much guilt in my upbringing and feared sounding like a hypocrite if she didn’t let me date him. Because yes, she did know about him. My step dad on the other hand didn’t care about his age, he only cared about the fact he was black and said some pretty racist shit all the time about him and had even once told me he’d rather me be with a white man that beat me every day than a black man who treated me well.

    Most of my high school friends were older than me and due to a traumatic falling out with a group, by the time I was in my senior year I had only a couple of friends. During my senior year the friends he was staying with in Nevada ended up kicking him out and I convinced him to move up to me. My dad kicked me out twice during this time (first from his house, then the house next door which he also owned), threatened often that he was going to use his guns on my boyfriend, and my mom let him. She told me later she thought going to live with my grandparents would just be better, but she also didn’t do anything against my step dad for his behavior.

    My grandmother died very suddenly right before Thanksgiving while we were living there and began the beginning of the end of what little stability there was in my family. I lost what was essentially a second mother to me and was devastated. My aunt took over and demanded everyone start cleaning around the house and paying rent, but my boyfriend and I were the only ones who were actually forced into doing it. Before long she kicked us out because he lost his job and we were forced back into my parents’ house and the abuse my step dad levied on us was unreal.

    So... it was only about a month later that I went with him to Texas. We went there initially to live with a friend, but ended up finding out that friend was younger than he claimed and that he didn’t have a place for us to actually live. This friend’s mother put us up in a hotel for the night and my boyfriend was able to get a hold of his parents who put us up in another hotel for a week. In that time he found a job so his dad let us stay at his place until we could get our own.

    They were very... traditional and didn’t want their kids to get the wrong ideas about premarital relationships so we couldn’t sleep in the same room. On top of this I was abused by his step mom pretty regularly to the point of tears and the place was infested with roaches. It was fucking awful.

    When we did finally get out from under their thumb my hell really was picking up steam. I was battling undiagnosed anxiety and depression. At the time I was working at a Burger King and was yelled at by a different manager every shift because every manager did their shifts differently. Since I was the newbie I was forced to do dishes, clean the toilets, and wipe down the dining area on pretty much every shift. I was doing mountains of dishes at work every day so I asked him to please do dishes at home.

    I worked at that place for a few months and in that entire time he never did dishes. When I quit that job and finally got to it there was mold and other things growing on them. It was repulsive. But now it was my job since I wasn’t working anymore it was expected that I would keep the apartment spotless.

    Again I was battling my own demons at the time. I tried my hardest but it was incredibly difficult to be productive and want to do things when you felt as miserable and lonely as I did. He was more than happy to heap it on too, telling me often how useless I was, how nobody else would deal with my shit. No matter how many times I attempted to talk to him about how I felt or why it was constantly shrugged off and pinned on my family or the fact I was ‘crazy’ never anything that he did. If I cried I was using that as a weapon, I wasn’t actually sad, never once did he actually console me when I cried and to this day it is hard for me to cry around people for the fear of that same reaction.

    I remember a very specific time of having mustered up the energy to clean and reorganize the apartment from top to bottom. I was excited for him to come home for once, usually I was scared of what he would say and how he would berate me, but this time maybe I would gain a kind word or some sort of approval. Maybe he would pat me on the head. When he came home he stepped inside as I greeted him and handed him dinner that I cooked at the perfect time so it would be hot and ready by the time he got home. He sat down and began eating and I could feel that balloon of hope inside me swelling and asked him if he noticed anything different. He had a neutral expression as he looked around the apartment before looking to me and telling me ‘It’s clean, as it should always be’. That little balloon popped and I never felt so deflated in my life. No recognition without prompting, no thanks, no appreciation, nothing. This was my job, why should he be grateful?

    Often I would make the trek about half a mile down the street with what felt like 20-30 pounds of laundry and detergent on my back to a nearby laundromat since it was cheaper than the one in the apartment complex. I was also the one that took the cash he gave me to turn it into a money order for rent which required a bus ride to the check cashing place. And whenever groceries had to be got, that was my job, carting two to four weeks of groceries by myself on and off the bus. I was later told he made me do all these things by myself ‘For your own good’. When he did finally start helping with groceries that’s when we could start taking cabs, because he didn’t want to sit on the bus with that many groceries.

    It wasn’t long before I got another job, this time working at a Dollar General that was across the street. At first I was still expected to do all the cleaning in the apartment because I worked less hours than him, he worked about 36 hours and I worked 20-30 hours each week. Then the holiday season hit and I was working 40+ hours a week and when I asked for help again I was told he made more an hour than I did so I should still do all the cleaning around the apartment. He never helped me and no matter what I did it was never enough of a contribution to earn that help. Most of my money went into bills and rent too, but his he could use as he pleased and I was never allowed to know how much money he had at any time.

    Around this time one of the only friends I made there had a falling out with his wife and needed a place to stay, so despite us living in a very small apartment and this guy being very large (he was built like a football player), we agreed. This was a mistake. Now I had two man children to clean up after, this guy was so pathetic that he would dirty a saucer to drink out of before cleaning a cup and would leave a trail of dirty clothes on his way to the shower. I would do dishes in the morning before work and come home to all of the dishes dirty and dirty clothes all over the floor. He never helped with rent or any bills and just kept giving money to the wife who had kicked him out. Whenever my boyfriend and I would argue he would needle at one side or the other until it was a full blown fight. I hated him.

    I was never allowed to meet any of my boyfriend’s friends because he told me they said terrible things about women all the time and he didn’t want me around those kinds of people. This was coming from a man who called women ‘females’ and ‘heifers’ and once told me ‘Nice guys finish last’. Despite having been incredibly traumatized by the smell of alcohol to the point of triggering a panic attack whenever I smelled it on someone’s breath, he would go out and drink knowing it was going to upset me.

    Any friend I made were treated with suspicion. He hated the fact I roleplayed on WoW and was convinced I was going to leave him for someone else on the game. So then I pretended to be a guy and played solely male characters in the hopes of him getting off my case. He wasn’t happy but he stopped making a stink about it.

    I pretty much never called home. I had nothing to be proud of. I felt like trash. My number changed often because we couldn’t keep a phone line consistently enough so my mom couldn’t call me very much either.

    He had essentially isolated me. I couldn’t even feel very close to the people I met online because I had to pretend to be someone else.

    We broke up several times throughout the years, I would go back home to my parents, my step dad would drink and abuse my mom and I would immediately go back. Getting plane tickets next day was too expensive for my family, so I would have to wait two weeks at least before I could go home and he’d take that time to ignore my existence while complaining to his friends on his phone all the time about how lousy of a partner I was. I remember him once even saying ‘I was told not to stick my dick in crazy and did it anyways’.

    I was a serial monogamist at the time, I’m not proud of that part of my life, I always had to set up someone else to be with because I was so desperate for approval from others. Every time those relationships fell apart I would remember what he told me ‘I’m the only one who can deal with you’ and ‘No one will ever love you like I do’. I began to internalize I was unlovable by anyone but him and that I deserved every hurt. I was an awful partner after all. Why couldn’t I just force myself to clean? To serve him in the ways he wanted?

    There were no compromises, only double standards and he fully admitted to that. There were things he could do that I couldn’t and there would be no discussion on that.

    Sex was used as a reward or punishment. If I was given sex, I was being rewarded. If it was kept from me I was being punished. These are things I still struggle with nowadays. Despite him being the one and only person I had, at this point, been intimate with I was called a whore or a slut for wanting that sort of attention from him. On two occasions he coerced me into sex when I wasn’t interested and only agreed to because of that weird little connection in my head of sex = reward and my desperation for physical affection. One of these times was because we were fighting and he got tired of it and the other was when he broke up with me and the day before I left coerced me into sex. Both times I heavily regretted agreeing and felt gross and violated. Both of these times he knew what he was doing and how he had programmed me.

    I spent many nights while he was working sitting in the living room with a knife to my wrist trying to talk myself into it. I called myself a coward for being afraid of the pain. I would put hot matches to my skin, hit myself, pull my hair, any sort of physical pain to try and distract myself from my mental and emotional anguish. I didn't talk to my mom about it because when I was younger and struggled with suicide ideation she would scold me and tell me how selfish I was being to even consider it. I didn't feel safe telling her about it.

    I was haggard. I felt myself dying. The deep hole I was thrown into just kept getting deeper and that little light at the top was growing dim.

    I did end up admitting to some of the friends I made online who I really was and I was roleplaying with one of them while hanging out in voice when I just... broke. I can't remember what caused it, if anything did, but suddenly I was bawling and telling this person who barely knew me about how terrible I was. Telling her all of my shortcomings and how I just couldn't take it anymore and I wanted to die. I think often of how lucky I was this particular person had a husband who was also a counselor. About how my sudden breakdown didn't make her hang up on me and block me. She got her husband and I told them about everything. I repeated the hurts, the things I thought were true for the first time to someone else and I was told I deserved better.

    I was told how a healthy relationship wouldn't have any of this. They took the burden of blame off me long enough to show me the abuse. It was enough to get me to pull away from him and break things off.

    But when you're groomed it's hard. Especially when you are like I was, instantly rushing into a new relationship only to be hurt. And there he was, whispering promises of being better once again. And, like the sucker I was, I fell for it once more.

    But it was the last time. His cover had been blown. I could see it now and when he fell back into his old ways I could see that too.

    I was promised a drawing tablet for Christmas, no strings attached. When I began slipping up on cleaning because I was suffering from cycling depression I remember asking him about the tablet hoping maybe if I could draw that could help. He scoffed at me and told me that I didn't keep the place clean so why did I deserve anything?

    I remember letting that sink in, turning to watch the TV for a couples of minutes before looking back to him and with a dead expression and flat voice told him it was over. He looked like I slapped him and he asked me 'Over a tablet?'.

    No. It was because he couldn't keep his promise. He never changed. I believed again and again that I could change him, so many stories marketed to young girls and women are exactly that narrative. He fed into that with promises he never intended to keep.

    It has been an uphill battle to gain what bit of self-confidence I do have. Finding better people to surround myself with, realizing I’m trans, going to counseling then therapy, these are all things that have helped me and continue help me along my path to dealing with these traumas.

    A little over ten years ago I was at my lowest point and thought death was my only option. I am so happy I never went through with any of those plans. I’m so happy with the life I have now even with the struggles they contain. I have people that truly love and care about me.

    I didn’t realize until last year that what happened to me was considered grooming. For years I had convinced myself that I had wanted that relationship, that I had pushed for it, he couldn’t have been a pedophile or a groomer if I was the one that wanted those things, right? When I asked my therapist if they thought I was groomed they immediately answered yes and told me the only reason they never used the word is that some people can be triggered by it. I was 30 years old when I finally realized I was groomed and it just makes me wonder how many other people are, or were, like me.

    Every relationship has bumps, but healthy ones find ways to weather the bumps in a way that makes both participants happy. Compromise should be a middle ground for both parties. Double standards shouldn’t exist.

    And for the love of all the gods, do not date someone under 18. Even if you have the absolute best intentions there is a power differential there and grooming still can be just that person knowing and looking up to you for so long and you taking advantage of that. I don’t think it has to be active manipulation for it to still be a form of grooming.

    Anyways, don’t date men who call women ‘females’ or unironically say ‘nice guys finish last’. I wish I had seen those things for the red flags they were.

    #not art#camelot chatters #lots of content warnings #a heavy read to be sure #there is a certain amount of catharsis that comes with writing it all out #I wish for a world where everyone felt worthy of the best love
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  • cameron-allen
    04.12.2021 - 1 day ago

    @followers I just want you to know that if death, grief, suicide or suicidal ideations are triggering, please filter #death personified . Its currently the only thread being tagged due to its very heavy and triggering themes.

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