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[“As I kept asking people this question, “How do you want me to touch you?” I was struck again and again by how strong our tendency is to go along with what we think we are supposed to want or like. Why on earth would we do that when it’s our turn to have what we want?

One reason is that asking for what we want and receiving it are inherently vulnerable. It’s just not that easy. Another reason is that we are confused about who it’s really for. We act as if it’s really for the benefit of the other person, the one who is “giving.” They ask what we want, and we answer by saying what we don’t mind too much. Then we go along with what we don’t want and try to change ourselves. I have some ideas about why that is the case, which we’ll explore in this book.

Another reason is that sometimes we don’t know what it feels like to have something really be for us. It turned out that the key was finding exactly what we want.

In one session in my studio, as per his request, I was stroking Ken’s hand.

Ken: Well, I know you said it’s for me, but I’m not sure what that means. I guess I’m just used to whatever happens.

Me: Hmmm…yeah, so for right now, we’re going to stop this, and you get to notice what it is that actually sounds good to you.

Ken: I have no idea. Would you do some different things and let me say if I like them?

Me: Sure! (pressing into his palms) How’s this?

Ken: It’s okay.

Me: Would you like more of it or something else?

Ken: Something else, please.

Me: (squeezing his fingers) How about this?

Ken: It’s okay.

Me: I’m curious here, Ken. If I just kept going, what would you do?

Ken: Nothing. It’s all okay with me.

Me: So let’s find something that is not okay but is fabulous. (We try a few more things.)

Me: And this?

Ken: Oohhh, yeah! That is really good. (We do that a while, and he visibly sinks into it.)

Me: Okay, now, is this for me, or is this for you?

Ken: Oohhhh. I get it. This is for me, isn’t it?

Me: Yes, it is.

He looked like he was holding back tears, and we sat quietly.

Yes, it can be hard to notice what we want and to ask for it. If these are not bad enough, there is what happens when we do finally, miraculously, receive the touch we want. We feel comfort and pleasure, and then that brings up more feelings of guilt, shame, and doubt. Sometimes the feelings are a little tug at our heart, and sometimes they are powerful. One person said, “There’s something deep and primitive going on inside me, enjoying his touch, maybe needing— fear of needing? It’s like an old warrior not wanting to admit they have needs, even deep needs like touch.”]

Betty Martin, The Art of Receiving and Giving: The Wheel of Consent

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In reference to my last post, I want to talk about something many of us were taught. That if you love someone, you sacrifice for them. You put their needs first, no matter what. You prove your devotion by suffering.

That belief runs deep. It’s in the families that praised self-sacrifice. It’s in movies and books that romanticized grand gestures where someone gives up everything. It’s in the quiet lessons where you were told that saying no was selfish, or that your comfort didn’t matter.

When you grow up with that, healthy boundaries can feel cruel. A “no” can sound like rejection. A “not right now” can sound like abandonment. And you can start to believe that love only counts if it hurts.

But that isn’t love. That’s erasing yourself. That’s setting yourself on fire just to keep someone else warm.

Real love isn’t measured by how much you suffer. It’s measured by care. By honesty. By presence. Love has room for both people’s needs. It respects limits. It adapts. It lasts because it’s sustainable, not because someone bleeds themselves dry to prove it.

If you constantly test someone’s love by pushing them past their limits, you don’t actually get proof of love. You get exhaustion, resentment, and disconnection. That isn’t fair to them, and it doesn’t really reassure you either. It just deepens the cycle of fear.

If someone says no, it doesn’t mean they don’t love you. It means they’re trying to love you in a way that can last. And when you say no, you’re not failing someone, you’re protecting the connection so it doesn’t burn out.

Love doesn’t ask you to disappear. It asks you to show up as yourself, whole and honest. That’s the kind that lasts.

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This is your periodic reminder that it's possible for multiple people to be right at the same time. It's possible for multiple people to be wrong at the same time.

It's possible for people to be right about some things and wrong about others. It's possible for people to be kind in some situations and cruel in others.

It's possible to be oppressed and an oppressor. It's possible to be abused and an abuser.

It's possible for people to have equally valid needs that fundamentally conflict. It's possible for people to have worldviews that cannot be reconciled.

It's possible to have good intentions and do harm. It's possible to have bad intentions and do good.

People are complicated, the world is complicated, and simplifying everything down to a black and white worldview where some people are Bad (and therefore incapable of being right or kind or good) and some people are Good (and therefore incapable of being wrong or cruel or bad) is only going to cause harm.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled Tumblr.

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looks inside procrastination -> it's anxiety -> looks inside anxiety -> it's fear -> looks inside fear -> it's shame

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actually obsessed with restoring dignity in recovery

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Something people need to acknowledge is that it is possible to feel attacked by information that merely challenges your beliefs and prejudices, but that this feeling does not come from a having a big ego. It comes from trauma from previous experiences where someone really did attack you in the name of education or correction.

It is not a moral failing to feel this way, it is trauma that needs to be healed. Anyone who makes you like your trauma response is morally wrong is not a healthy person for you to be around.

It must also be acknowledged that some people in activist spaces are repeating the kind of behavior that leaves people with education/correction-related trauma (see authoritarian parenting) and that some people feel attacked because they are, in fact, being attacked.

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Nonbinary atheists are important.

Your experiences with religion are relevant, deserve respect, and time in discussion.

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Trauma isn't just the sadness that comes from being beaten, or neglected, or insulted. That's just one layer of it. Trauma also is mourning the childhood you could have had. The childhood other kids around you had. The fact that you could have had a mom who hugged and kissed you when you skinned your knee. Or a dad who stayed and brought you a bouquet of flowers at your graduation. Trauma is mourning the fact that, as an adult, you have to parent yourself. You have to stand in your kitchen, starving, near tears, next to a burnt chicken, and you can't call your mom to tell her about it, to listen to her tell you that it's okay, to ask if you can come over for some of her cooking. Instead, you have to pull up your bootstraps and solve the painful puzzle of your life by yourself. What other choice do you have? Nobody else is going to solve it for you.

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"people saying very confidently that the only way to stop being a cultural Christian is to convert to another religion and atheism doesn’t count" kind of funny in a shitty way tbh. only another, more powerful religion can save you from being christian! christianity as a sort of inherent stain [if you live in a majority-christian place], which you cannot remove from yourself on your own, and need some sort of savior to cleanse you of, hmmm this seems familiar somehow,

cultural christianity turns out to be cultural christianity

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Links to some of my articles:

You’re Not Weak For Needing Comfort

How Do I Handle Feeling my Loved Ones Deserve Better Than Me?

The 5-4-3-2-1 Grounding Method

Your Trauma Is Valid, Even If It Doesn’t Look Like Someone Else’s

Creating Your Own Safe Space

Grieving the Childhood You Didn’t Get (and the Person You Might’ve Been)

I have a lot more blog topics. Things about missing and loving an abuser, hypersexuality, anger in healing and stuff like that are topics I cover. My blog itself is here.

I also have a comments page on my website that I love getting feedback on!

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what I wish I could tell my dad:

you're right. there is only one "truth" when it comes to god's existence. god either does exist, or they don't. But it is unknowable - it cannot be proven right or wrong. god is undetectable to the human senses. it's not about truth, because the truth is indiscernible until either god shows their presence or we die and discover if the Christian afterlife is as promised (or what other fate awaits).

so that leaves each individual to examine the evidence and decide for themselves what they believe. that's why everyone gets their own viewpoint. not because there's multiple contradicting truths - but because we, collectively, do not KNOW the truth for certain. and so we choose. and we have the right to choose.

who are you to say you figured it out? your examination of the evidence is the most credible? the ultimate precise perfect truth of not only the existence of god, but also every bible interpretation, was revealed to you specifically and very few others?

what fucking right do you have to say that you know the truth which humans have been wrestling over for millennia?

UGH

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My cats were too spicy for tumblr 😔

I have once again found, as often before, that the answer to existential grief and despair is to take care of the creatures in front of me. So would anybody like to see Mr. Casper Cthulhu and little Miss Freya Fantabulous?

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I have once again found, as often before, that the answer to existential grief and despair is to take care of the creatures in front of me. So would anybody like to see Mr. Casper Cthulhu and little Miss Freya Fantabulous?

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it's very RUDE for something I LOVED SO MUCH I literally devoted MY ENTIRE LIFE TO IT to turn out to be DAMAGING and FULL OF SHIT

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I miss how it made me feel. I miss the certainty and the wonder. I miss looking up at the stars and feeling swept up in it all, walking by the lakeshore and through the trees and feeling quiet and awake and listening. I miss the music. I miss the quiet dialogue I had with God, I miss knowing there was someone listening, there was always someone there. I miss having faith in the world. I miss knowing there was a plan. I miss driving myself crazy looking for it, listening for it, waiting for a sign. I miss crying out for God and I miss the voice I made up to fill the silence, I miss consoling myself and dreaming up reasons why I never got an answer. I miss believing that Love was in charge of the Universe. I miss washing my own feet and kissing the palms of my hands.