The Golden Rule is not a way to get your needs met.
Saying this for myself as an autistic literalist, and for anyone else who needs to hear it: The Golden Rule - "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" is just a fancy way to say "be nice to people" it is NOT, in fact, instructions on how to ask for help. I took it very literally for my entire childhood and into adulthood to mean "the way to let get your needs met is to demonstatively provide those around you with the care that you yourself need." And I was like, "sweet, a nonverbal way for me to express my needs!" WHICH IS NOT THE NEUROTYPICAL READING OF THIS.
I don't regret treating people with the grace and compassion I wish folks would extend to me-- but this realization certainly clears up a lot of weird reactions to behaviors I thought of as "helping others" in the past. Turns out that
A) it is better to treat people how they want to be treated vs how you want to be treated
B) You have to tell people (with words 🙄) what you need
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Ya know. I spent most of my life with horrible painful soul-crushing social anxiety.
And after about 25 years of continuous hard work, suddenly, people started pointing out - to my utter bafflement - that I had, in fact, achieved my lifelong dream of being charismatic. I'm 29 now; I feel comfortable in most social situations, and it is a very rare person whom I cannot make laugh.
I am, undoubtedly, finally, charismatic.
But do you know what I found?
I found that now that I have an understanding of which social rules serve which functions -- Now that I have an understanding of just how much damage my awkwardness was doing to people, well,
I found that, actually, my awkwardness never really hurt anyone at all. People were just judgmental dicks to me about it.
Now that I have the skill-level to (most of the time) creatively vocalize what is in my head as soon as I think it and without fear, I can confirm once and for all what I had always suspected:
I was worth talking to when I was quiet.
I was worth talking to when I was awkward, and when the words in my head took time and patience to hear, and when most of my jokes didn't land. I was worth talking to the whole time.
So I just... I hope that if you've ever wondered whether you are worth communicating with, the answer is yes. Absolutely yes. Each of us has a soul worth sharing - and if you and I were talking, I would happily wait for you to speak (or communicate in other ways) without condescending, and I would never shame you for that harmless awkwardness that so many people feel the need to violently stomp out.
You are worth talking to. You just are. And you deserve people who will speak to you with kindness, with patience, and with the basic immutable respect owed to all people.
(I talk about this with some frequency, both on tumblr and in real life. At some point, maybe I'll gather all my thoughts on the matter into one post. At some point, I wrote about my personal experience trying to build my social skill. But I felt the need to say at least a little bit tonight after seeing this other lovely post, and I'm glad I did. It will happen again.)
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I see so much antagonistic bullshit in the system community that whenever I see two+ users get confused or disagree but have a polite conversation about it I'm just like YEAHHHHHHHH like bro why is it so hard to be nice
Tbh it's a wider "internet" problem but I'm just- gonna choose my battles here
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💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕
Ty for the ask! :3 <333 I also just want to say I love your work and how welcoming and uplifting you are to so many folks.
Honestly, I've been feeling kind of good lately about what I've made, which is a nice change of pace. And I'm most invested in my longfic the damn things overlap. Posting the first few chapters is what got me to really commit to writing again, and then to actually stop lurking and join fandom, which has been a blast!
This fic is especially near and dear because creating and writing Valentine has been... so self-indulgent. An enby character who is just a total mess, and particularly one who has so many conflicting traits and is always at war with herself. She loves being a corpo, even though it requires her to put so much effort into playing her role. She defaults to being friendly and pleasant and is entirely ruthless. She's mean but not evil, so sometimes she helps people out just because. She's morally flexible and all she really wants out of life is to embed herself so totally in someone else's that they can't or won't function without her. She continuously chases things that she knows are bad for her and will continue to do this with a surprising amount of self-awareness until she finally blunders into trouble she can't blunder out of. She's the kind of absolute mess of gender and addictive personality that I desperately wanted to see and I got to make her!!
For the fic itself, I'm really pleased that I've managed to consistently write scenes that make me laugh, which before this I didn't know was possible? It makes writing such a blast, and now I purposefully try to weave in humor and a little bit of mundane ridiculousness throughout, particularly to offset the darker or more distressing scenes. I'll share one of my favorites:
Though conceptually V knew her apartment was a bit of a mess, it wasn’t until she saw Takemura looking it over that she really remembered. Jackie and T-bug would have loved it. Saburo Arasaka’s bodyguard performing a security sweep on the perpetual sprawl of electronics that covered her desk. The stack of screens and speakers she’d scavenged from an old job. A pile of clean clothing dumped in front of her half-empty closet.
“You are sure this place has not been searched?” His tone was deadpan, expression grave.
V pretended to be offended. “Here I am, granting you shelter. You should be nicer to me.”
“Perhaps I am not very nice.”
“To think Wakako called you a gentleman.”
He laughed – it was definitely a laugh, tugging at the corners of his eyes – and drifted towards the window and the sight of the city in twilight.
I just– I'm imagining being in Takemura's shoes: he's had the worst few weeks of his entire life, he's on the run, hasn't had a decent shower or meal or rest, finally found an ally who's offered him a place to crash, and her home is just filled with junk and a total sty. He can't be totally rude about it, but like, come on. Give the poor man a break.
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