#and they asked have you ever had ovarian cysts I said no but my mom has (there’s thoughts it can be genetic)

[dragongeek1]

well friends I have officially joined the Chronic Pain Club, it’s not great to be here, there’s a chance it’s only temporary but my gut says ‘hmm many doubts’ and I won’t really know for a couple of weeks anyway until my doctors appointment. So. Been navigating that for four days and well we’re navigating at least

[greenerteacups]

The great hormonal storms in book 5 lead me to this ask: let's talk about sex. Or at least sex ed. Does Hogwarts have it (at least in LH'verse)? Is that a nurse duty or a Head of House one? Did Narcissa sit her baby boy down for The Talk, at least to impart how Miss Granger would return to her parents in the same state she left them or at least unimpregnated? Did she outsource that task to Uncle Severus? Did Ron share what his older brothers passed down? What does our favorite victorian-in-spirit know abt sex beyond "lie back and think of the bloodline" and his hormonal daydreams?

I'm l o s i n g it at the idea of Narcissa instructing Draco to leave Hermione "unimpregnated," which, I just — I think the minute she uses those things in the same sentence, Draco hits the road at the speed of Mach Christ. He's gone. He's not here. He's not in the building. Can't have the Sex Talk if you can't fucking catch me, Mom. (For the record, I can fully see Narcissa trying. She's much less prudish than Draco is — gossips about adultery with her 11-y/o son on Christmas morning, references Ye Olde Wilde Times with Lucius, cracks the occasional bawdy joke, etc. — she just doesn't often see the need to discuss it, being aware that Draco, as far as she knows, remains an un-Awakened little Victorian. The Great Granger Debacle of 1995 is likely raising her suspicions there.) That said, Draco knows what sex is; for some reason my mind gravitates to the slightly handwavey answer of "boy's dormitory." I'm picturing him in his four-poster, curtains drawn, pretending to be asleep, while Ron and Harry have a free-ranging, horrifically creative conversation about what Ron thinks sex is (courtesy of the twins). Optimistically, Neville hops in with corrections from Augusta Longbottom's sexual etiquette seminars. Either way, Draco never, ever reveals that he has heard this conversation.

Or, alternatively, he and Theo have a really intense heart-to-heart during that summer before third year, which would do a lot to explain why the two of them are so weird about each other basically for the rest of time. (Raising the question of where Theo/Pansy/Daphne learned it. At age 12, Pansy got an excruciatingly detailed Talk from her mother, who was scared to death of a teen pregnancy pitching their family into ruin; Pansy, deciding it was unfair she had to suffer this and Theo did not, inflicted said Talk on Theo, who was just relieved that he didn't have to ask Sibelius. And Daphne grew up around so many healers that she just badgered them until someone gave in and told her. She's also a stated connoisseur of trashy romance novels, so. Make of that what you will.)

I think that Hogwarts, being modeled in mores and general Vibe from old English boarding schools, probably is not the most forward-thinking with sex ed. I also do believe Severus Snape would sooner jump off a bridge, and I kind of need him for the plot, so I've got to spare him that grave and important duty. Poppy Pomfrey probably gets the question the most of any staff member, and over the years, I think she's honed her answer down to a tight 3 minute-monologue that covers all major topics.

Odds and ends in the same vein:

Hermione gets a sit-down with the Drs. Granger the summer before her thirteenth birthday, so sometime in August, 1992. It is meticulously explained and flawlessly presented, with color-coded diagrams, an index, and a syllabus. It includes a diagnostic chart for common STIs and a spreadsheet on birth control options. Dr. Granger gets excited after a tangent about ovarian cysts and runs to pull out her old copy of Grey's. Hermione spends the whole time fully miserable, wondering why parents couldn't be like, greengrocers or something. (That doesn't stop her from asking questions, obviously.)

Ron, like all Weasley men of his generation, gets a knock on his door sometime around his 14th birthday, and Arthur invites him to "go fishing." This is code for "stand by the river and try to keep a will to live while your dad explains the mechanics of sex, its importance, and the value of waiting until you feel comfortable and safe sharing that level of intimacy with a trusted partner" (sic).

Fred and George got separate talks, because Arthur wanted to emphasize that he sees them as individuals; however, Fred ran back and immediately recounted it all to George, who proceeded to feign extraordinary expertise in it the next morning, to his father's horror.

Ginny's "go fishing" equivalent is Molly taking her out for tea and delivering a well-meant but incoherent combination of abstinence-only sex ed, aggressive body positivity, and highly technical discussions of how to insert a diaphragm. Ginny, who bullied the real story out of Bill years ago, is baffled, and to this day can't say for sure what she was supposed to take away from it.

Harry spends his 14th birthday at the Burrow. Ron and his brothers make a blood pact in advance not to tell him about it, though, so when Arthur invites him out for the day on August 1st, his sole thought is: oh, nice! Can't wait for some fun fishing :)

[ellaintrigue]

I should have been on the pill when I was 14. You're probably thinking, "14 year olds shouldn't be having sex!!" You are correct. And I had never had sex, I was just laying in my room in my own blood.

The pain from my periods was AGONIZING. It was nonstop bleeding and horrific cramps for days. I would lie on the floor and cry and wish it would stop.

Mom never took me to the doctor for it but when I was 22 I read up about female issues online and it suggested ovarian cysts. So even though I had never had an intimate exam before and I was scared I went to my doctor and said I thought I had cysts. She found some in me and prescribed me birth control. My whole abdomen was bloated and painful and I could hardly function until the pills took effect.

When conservatives hear "birth control" it means sex to them. The HPV shot means sex to them. And now they're trying to ban the abortion pill which means more moral failings to them. They are trying to slut shame and control women even more.

Whether you are pro-choice or pro-life it doesn't matter because it is NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. I repeat. WHAT A WOMAN DISCUSSES IN A ROOM WITH HER DOCTOR IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

I got the HPV shot because I have had 2 boyfriends who had it. But people think it's the left encouraging immorality when doctors encourage the jab for children. Like, no. I just simply seriously dated 2 guys who happened to have it. I wasn't sleeping around. Then y'all bitch about HIV medication being shown on TV. So... uh, what, you want people to get AIDS? ...IT ONLY TAKES SLEEPING WITH ONE PERSON TO CONTRACT SOMETHING.

I'm not shaming people who do sleep around but regardless, your children WILL grow up and have sex. Nearly all people have sex in their lifetime. I talked to a conservative from Salisbury, MD a couple of months ago. He was anti-vax. Whatever. He said he never went to the doctor EVER. I said, what about when you need to be tested for STDs? He called me a snowflake. I asked him if he was a virgin. No, but he knew everyone he had slept with, he knew he didn't have anything, he didn't need to get tested for diseases as that was for liberals. I said fair enough, hope you have a nice day. He then started complaining he didn't understand why women rejected him.

I went to the doctor today to renew my birth control that saves my life. I have cysts so aggressive they would stifle my body if I wasn't on the pill. If not for the pill and I got surgery instead I would need to get surgery every year or something. But alongside the abortion pill, some conservatives want birth control options compromised too.

Women go through enough. To stay on the pill I once had to shell out $500 a year for invasive exams. Now they've lessened the exams because they were found to be too violating and meaningless. 1,000s upon 1,000s of young women getting unneeded vaginal exams since the 60s. So on top of being forced to get healthcare we are now getting it forcibly taken away?

Today the only thing I did voluntarily was get 2 vaccines. It's all stupid, especially the eye exam. The nurse was surprised I couldn't read ANY lines without my glasses. I told her I was almost legally blind which is the truth. I have very low vision and partial blindness in one eye. What does that have to do with birth control?

They need to make healthcare easier for women not harder. Conservatives need to focus on fixing the economy and reducing regulations on the working class, not controlling women's bodies.

I am against government control, gun restrictions, and all of that, but because the right demands the government to regulate women's bodies they are hypocritical and they aren't worth voting for. Their mindsets are dangerous and they are hurting women.

I just want to be happy, protected, and free from horrific periods. Don't take that away from me.

[scoopsahoy]

hi babe! luv ur stories! this might be a complicated ask, but could u write a story about reader having pcos/endo and steve is always there to comfort her?

ぺ  word count ⋰ 685

✰  tw ⋰ surgery

❍  cw ⋰ mentions of sex, periods :(

៚  a/n ⋰ this isn’t complicated at all! i have pcos, so i can actually use a first-person account for this! fun fact: my friend had a ten-pound ovarian cyst removed in 2018, so i got her help writing what that process was like!

✐  masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

you and steve had only been dating about a week before you were diagnosed with pcos

he went with you to the appointment and took you to get ice cream to help you feel better

and it did, a bit

you went home and watched your favorite movie

and he stayed for dinner while you told your parents your diagnosis

your dad didn’t understand but your mom hugged you

eventually, it kind of just became a nuisance

it wasn’t really anything you had to worry about on a day to day basis

but when your periods came

it was like someone had stabbed you in your lower stomach

every. fucking. day.

standing up, sitting down, laying flat, crossing your knees

everything hurt

not even just in your ovaries

you could feel it all the way down

it was like someone kicked you straight in the vag

but after a couple of months of dealing with it, you just accepted it

it wasn’t like you could do anything without getting a hysterectomy

so you just decided to live with it and take ibuprofen every single day

but you and steve had to make an emergency trip to the gynecologist one day

about a year and a half after your diagnosis

you were having period cramps that physically kept you in bed

that was normal, but this time it was worse

you hadn’t been able to get out of bed for five days

steve insisted you go to the doctor

you kept dismissing the suggestion because you were so used to it

but he convinced you to go

turned out you had an ovarian cyst the size of an egg that had to be removed

he stayed with you at the hospital the entire time

he stayed the night so you wouldn’t be alone as your parents had to work

the morning of surgery, they woke you up about five a.m.

you were done within four hours

you were unconscious for another two

but steve was right next to your bed when you woke up

he helped feed you, as you couldn’t sit up

then he pushed your wheelchair out to his car

and drove you home

and stayed with you while you recovered

he helped you get dressed and use the bathroom

after about three days post-surgery you could do all that mostly on your own

you still needed help getting in and out of bed, but he didn’t care

after you were healed, he always kissed your scars

you had one on each side of your belly button

one in your belly button

and one on your bikini line

he said they made you look badass

and you laughed

after your surgery, you had another appointment six weeks out

and luckily you hadn’t grown any more cysts

and you were cleared to have sex again

as soon as you got home, you and steve were on top of each other

he was gentle, as you were still a bit sore

but it was easily some of the best sex you’d ever had

anyway

the first period you had after surgery was absolute hell

it was worse than every other period

you could barely even move in bed

so you stayed in bed almost all week

but once it ended, your incisions were close to fully healed

so you could move around freely now

every time you got cramps, steve offered to warm up your heating pad

or get an ice pack

and you almost always accepted his offer

and he would bring you whatever food you wanted

and he’d watch whatever cheesy movie you were in the mood for

he was the best boyfriend

and, not surprisingly, you wound up getting more cysts that needed to be removed

and the entire process would restart

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #302

“heaven ain’t close in a place like this”

What color are your eyes? Grayish blue. What's your favorite type of milk? If we're talking the basics, ig 1% is fine. What would you change about your appearance if you could? Oh, hunny, you got time for an essay? What would you change about your bedroom if you could? I need to fucking finish decorating it... It's not finished by no fault but my own laziness. Are you rich or poor? We're definitely pretty poor. Are you double jointed? I don't think so. What's the most physically painful thing you've ever experienced? I once had a large infected cyst that had to be drained by applying pressure to it, and I swear to Christ I don't know how I didn't faint. They gave me morphine and multiple numbing shots, but none of that did SHIT. I'm not even embarrassed by the fact I was shrieking and sobbing and swearing because I'm pretty fucking sure any sane person would've cried out many times. I'm convinced they either didn't numb me enough for someone of my size back then, or I should've just gone under for it. I have no words for how painful it really was. Do you like shots? Uh, given that nobody LIKES getting a shot with a needle, I'm going to assume you mean like, taking shots of alcohol, in which case I've never tried, but I can almost absolutely guarantee you I'd hate them. I hate the taste of alcohol (hence why I only drink sweet and weak stuff), sooooo, I've got my doubts I'd enjoy something so potent. Are you afraid of spiders? Yes and no? Small ones don't tend to get to me, and I LOVE tarantulas. Big spiders are absolutely fascinating and I love *watching* them, but if I was surprised by a sudden spider, I'm going to probably cry out and jump/scramble away. But on a real note, respect your spiders, whether they scare you or not. They are so important to the ecosystem. See one in the house, take it outside if you can. Have you ever had an allergic reaction to something? To some earrings, yes. I have to wear ones that don't have silver in them. Do you like to read? Yeah, but not nearly as much as I did as a kid. I'm even slacking on WoF lately... Do you know what your purpose in life is? *SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* BITCH I WISH I KNEW What's something you would like to improve at? Not being a socially anxious catastrophe. Do you believe you have great potential? Everybody does. You just have to use it. What is the most beautiful scenery you have ever beheld? Probably the mountains when driving to Tennessee. Or New York? I really can't recall either so clearly as to have a favorite. Are you flexible? Noooot anymore. Back in my WiiFit days, I was a gotdamn snake. List a song lyric that you like. Oh Jesus, don't make me think. Uhhhhh there's so many. Flipping through artists in my head with lyrics I tend to love, there's Otep with: "hey, hey, NRA, how many kids did you kill today?". Simple, but spine-chilling to me. Huh, time to listen to it actually, lol. That song murders me with the goosebumps. Do you meditate? No; I can't. You can't tell me to "free my mind," man. It's way too hectic at all times up there. What's one place you've been to that you want to visit again? I'd love to go back to Chicago one night when I actually learn how to do nighttime urban photography. What's one place you want to go that you've never visited before? I always answer "South Africa" to questions like this, so for variety's sake, I'll say the Bahamas. But a conspiratory bitch is afraid of the Bermuda Triangle, so... lmao. What's your favorite type of tree? I like big, impressive weeping willows. How many times have you seriously injured yourself? Only two occasions I can think of immediately. Maybe there's more, but idk. Did you attend Sunday School as a child? Yeah, even though I hated it. What is the longest your hair has ever been? Maybe a little passed the small of my back? What about the shortest? (not including being a toddler or baby): How it is now and has been for a couple years: shaved short on the left side, and it transitions to a length near my chin as you go to the right. Have you ever smoked a cigarette? No. Are/were you in the school band, and if so, what instrument did you play? I did, and I played the flute. I'd choose the saxophone if I could go back. Who does the grocery shopping in your household? Well, it's just Mom and me, so her. If you were to donate to charity today, what would you donate to? One that focuses on ovarian cancer for Mom. What is your favorite card game and when was the last time you played it? Even though I was never great at it or knew every single rule, "Magic: The Gathering" is honestly really fun, and I loved looking at the card art. I haven't played it since I was with Jason, so at least five-six years. Would you consider yourself to be good at spelling and grammar? Yeah, but I've somehow gotten worse with time???? I question the spelling and tenses of words I write a lot. What is your favourite seasonal candy? (only available at certain times): Probably like, chocolate rabbits. NOT hollow. Way to break my heart. Or gingerbread cookies. What was the last chocolate bar you ate? I think a Hershey's? It was a while ago. Who was the last person you talked to on Skype/video chat? I was in a Zoom session with multiple people for my partial hospitalization program. Have you ever dreamt about sleeping with someone other than your partner? If so, did that make you feel embarrassed? I've never had a dream like this while in a relationship. The last time you had butterflies in your stomach, what was the reason? I have no idea. Has anyone told you that they miss you recently? No. Has anyone ever asked you out or told you that they liked you, and you rejected them? Can you explain why you didn’t like, or didn’t feel attracted to that person? There was this one guy in the 4th grade who asked me if I would go out with him so much it almost became like a joke. I just... didn't like him like that. Then there's Juan; I'd just been warned that he had a bad rep by a very reliable adult, and the idea of dating him was kinda... intimidating anyway. Plus he was a smoker, which was and still is a no-no for me. What part in a movie would you love to play? The clinically insane villain or something because I feel with my history, I could channel that very well IF I actually wanted to act in the first place. What piece of furniture have you replaced the most? The couch. What’s the best part of your favorite movie? When Simba walks up Pride Rock in the rain and roars and all the lionesses join in. Chilling. What do you think is the most over-rated candy ever? Candy corn is repulsive. What was the highlight of your day? My mom was raving to one of my therapists in the PHP about my art and how badly she wants me to just get everything out there. I was smiling really big but looking down with how shy but also flattered it made me. Do you know anyone who is anorexic? I don't think so. Who has hurt you the most this year? Ha, myself. What's the last insult someone said to you? Hm. How much did your car cost? N/A What is the last picture you received on your phone of? Uhhh Mom mighta sent me a meme or Sara showed me a drawing someone made of Suriza, I think. Have you ever let someone go because you thought they deserved better? No, though I've felt that way before. Is there anybody you're really disappointed in right now? I'm still not over the fact Dad was a druggie before me and my sisters, apparently. It's almost like... hurtful in some weird way? Idk exactly why, it's just something I know I feel. What do you hear right now? I have Motionless In White's cover of "Somebody Told Me" playing in another tab. Do you do anything to help the environment? I do what I can as someone who isn't financially independent and reliant on another person for transportation. I won't litter for anything (and this includes shit like letting balloons go in the air, fucking stop), I'm trying to use my metal straw always in place of plastic, and to use less plastic bags, I try to spread out the times I clean Roman's litterbox to a few days; not to the point it's disgusting or uncomfortable for him, of course, though. Three days without is pretty much max. When's the last time you did something you knew was wrong? Ha, a little while ago... I was trying to avoid eating the two last biscuits Mom made for dinner 'cuz I really gotta lay off the carbs, but Mom "joked" that "it's your birthday, you get to do whatever you want," so I kinda just said fuck it lmao. Do you think that you have a pretty smile? No, because my eyes squint badly, and I also hate my teeth. When's the last time you cried over a guy? A few days ago a little bit, actually. I was reminiscing too much and recalling some of the warmest memories. Are you scared to lose the person you fell the hardest for? I already did. Oh well. Is there someone you wouldn't mind kissing right now? Yep. Do you have any friends that actually model? No. Do you care about the last person you kissed? A fucking lot. Do they care about you? Yes. Is there someone you wish you were with right now? Yes, just because of past birthday memories. I keep hoping a "happy birthday Britt" pops up in my FB messenger, and I hate myself for it. Have you ever imagined how it would feel kissing a certain someone? I legitimately just huffed in humor, guess, lmao. What are the bad things you've heard people say about you? That I'm a martyr, going nowhere, lazy, not trying hard enough, y'know, all that good stuff. Do you flirt a lot? Definitely not. What phrase or saying do you use the most? Probably "oof" lol. What mood are you in right now? I'm doing pretty all right. Kinda dreading Miss Tobey coming over, mean as it is, but I just... don't wanna deal with her and her judgments on my birthday. But I'm looking forward to seeing my sisters, and therapy went very well. Have you ever kissed someone that was high? No. Do you have a good relationship with your mother? Yep. How many exes do you have? I only consider two exes "serious," as I've only been in two deep and long-term relationships, but if we're counting everyone who's had the label of "boyfriend" or "girlfriend," there's six. Do you want to be single or with someone? Ugh, I don't know. It's probably better I don't 'til I figure my shit out, but I really do miss the companionship a lot. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? Because I love her and I was leaving her at the airport. Does your mom think you’re a virgin? She doesn't know for the same reason I don't, really. I think she leans towards I am, but idk. Is there someone that wants you to give them a second chance? I don't know. What size bra do you wear? Uhhh I genuinely don't buy bras enough to know this exactly. C-something. Does the person you last kissed still like you? I don't know if she still like-likes me. Are your parents still together? Noooo. Was your first time good or bad? I dated an Italian, if u kno what I mean. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Which friend-turned-enemy do you miss the most? Colleen, sometimes. Have you ever used an epi pen, and it worked? I have not. What is on your top priority list for today? Make this fuckin' day for me. I'm trying to not let the depression sink in and make me feel worthless on today of all days. So I'm trying to stay in a positive headspace. Do you own any sand art in a jar? Omg, those are so cool! But no. Does the sun come in your window in the morning or at night? Not really; there's houses in the way. What was the last piece of art you created? A drawing of a meerkat with its mouth open angrily, done with colored pencils, against a black background. It's on my second dA. What time of day do you take medications? I have prescription meds for when I wake up and at bedtime. What's your newest hobby you've started? A new hobby? Huh... What are some things you wanted to do that your parents didn't let you do? They wouldn't let us stay home alone until a certain age, we had a timer on the TV at bedtime to shut off after a while, we weren't exposed to certain music or shows, no cursing... stuff like that. What YouTube channels do you recommend? This is a BAD question to ask me, 'cuz I could just about recommend channels for just about any niche. I watch soooooo many. What is your favorite day of the week? Tuesday, because it's reset day in WoW, haha. Meaning, I get to do my stupid mount farming raids again for the week. Blackhand, gimme your FUCKING clefthoof already. Ballet or cheerleading? Ballet is beautiful. What are your favorite sports to watch? Only dancing, really. Were you ever in the marching band? No. Which holiday has the best decorations, in your opinion? My contrasting aesthetics make this hard, haha. I love Christmas with all the beautiful light displays people can make, but let's not sleep on Halloween, y'all. I loooove Halloween decor, like c'mon, that's where I get shit for my room year-round, lmao. What do you want to be known for? It'd actually be kinda cool if I built up some sort of rep in the vulture culture community with my photography of roadkill. For how few shots I actually have on there and minimal interaction, my Instagram for it is doing quite well, if you consider those factors. They've gotten some pretty decent attention on dA, too. I would love for people to know why I do it though, of course: awareness and respect for the animal's life. How often do you wear make-up? Almost never nowadays. Think of the person you are jealous of...what are you jealous of them for? She's actually making a career out of her photography. Do you have art that you made in high school? Oh, plenty. Do you have trauma in your past? *clears throat* take a fuckin seat Favorite type of frosting? Chocolate. Have you ever tried cake decorating? No. One of my sisters is actually one, though! She's great at it. What clubs are you a part of? None. What was your favorite book that you had to read for school? The Outsiders. 6th grade, to be exact. Do you like to read classics, or do you usually read new arrivals? I don't prefer one over the other, honestly. Were you a big partier in college? No, I never partied. Is your college one you would recommend? My most recent one, fuck yes. They're amazing and care so deeply for their students. Would you go camping in the woods alone? Yikes, no. Would you name your kids after anyone? If I had a son and I had my way with the name, he would be named after the Most Selfless Man in the World, Damien from WKM. :'''''( Do you have any supernatural gifts? No. Are there any good churches in your town? You're asking someone who has a bad relationship with religion. Do you want an indoor or outdoor wedding? It really depends on the season and venue my spouse and I pick. Do you think you would be a good salesperson? HEEEEEEEEEEEELL NAW fam. I ain't pressuring people to buy shit.

[twinklecheeks]

Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 3

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: Sorry I always post at night! I usually take the day to type and then release it at night. Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does. You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series. Also, I’d like to apologize for the typos, if there is any. I’m just illiterate lmao.  

Warnings! pregnancy.

Part 1, Part 2

Word Count: 1.9k

For the past week, you’ve been trying to figure out ways of telling the vlog squad that you’re pregnant… Would it be easier just to tell everyone at one or do one/two people at a time? UGH WHY DOES THIS HAVE TO BE SO DIFFICULT. You have to tell them asap because you’ll be able to know the gender in a month and you want them to be there. You decide to do something different for every couple of people in the squad but before you do, it’s time for your first ultrasound!

The last time you got this done, you were 9-10 weeks pregnant, so you were LATE finding out you were pregnant. You wanted to find the best doctor you can find and luckily, Kylie set you up with the same one she had. You brought Stass and Kylie to the appointment because they begged you. Doctor: *walks in* Hey y/n how are you feeling? Y/n: I don’t feel as sick anymore but I’ve been feeling really full lately. I didn’t think my stomach would pop out so early. I was thinking maybe it’s because I’m a small and short? Doctor: ‘maybe. Layback and let me take a look” she put the cold jelly on your stomach and starts looking around with the doppler. She finds the baby and you see it wiggling around. Kylie & Stass: “You’re giving us major baby fever rn.” The doctor turns on the heart monitor and you hear a strong heart beat. To you, it sounds normal, but to the doctor, she hears something else. She moves the doppler some more and she sees something. Doctor: “umm miss, how thorough was the ultrasound you had in the ER?” Y/n: “I don’t know, they had a lot of people and they did it a little quick? Why do you ask?” She moves the doppler to what she saw and you see another blob appear. Doctor: “if they would’ve been more thorough and taken time, they would’ve told you that you’re having twins. You, Kylie & Stass: “TWINS???!?!?!!!” Doctor: “Yes. It seemed to be that baby B was hiding behind baby A.” None of you had words. You were having twins… TWO KIDS. You felt like you were having the biggest fever dream of your life but you knew this was real. You already told your family you were pregnant but know you gotta tell them that you’re having TWO? Oh hell no. Doctor: “do you want picture?” Y/n: “uhhhh, sure?” You all walked out of the appointment speechless. Kylie: “well that happened.”

*A few days later*

I took you a couple of days to process that you’re eating for 3. You wanted to do something simple cause you didnt wanna stress yourself out anymore than you already are.

David, Jason & Josh:

(Remember when Erin pranked David and Josh that she was pregnant but it was really an ovarian cyst? It’s gonna be set up like that.)

You asked them to come with you and film in your tesla so you can film a car mukbang. You had the pregnancy test with the old ultrasound picture with only one baby in the glove compartment and you had the one that shows the twins in your pocket. Y/n: *filming a mukbang* “Hey guys! I have David, Josh and Jason here with me, say hi.”  All three of them: “Hi!!!” Y/n: “Since I had no other ideas this week, my last resort was this. So have fun watching us stuff our faces with food.” You drove to Chick-Fil-A, in n out and jack in the box. Once you got everything, You parked in a parking lot, but before you start, you asked David to get you some “napkins” that were in your glove compartment and you saw his eyes go wide. David: “Shut the fuck up.” Jason and Josh are in the backseat all confused and David shows them. Jason: “No you’re not.” You’re just sitting there all nervous/ laughing and all you can say is “yes I am.” David is crying cause he loves babies, Jason & Josh are congratulating you. David: “Who’s the dad?” Y/n: “He’s not in the picture.” They all look at you with sad eyes. Jason: “we’ll be here to help with everything at anytime.” Your hormonal ass is getting the best of you and you try to hold back the tears. Y/n: “oh! One more thing. That was the first ultrasound from 3-4 weeks ago, this one was from a couple of days ago” They all see the two blobs. All three boys: “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS YOU’RE HAVING TWINS?.” David: “Can I plan the gender reveal party?? Y/N: “Sorry, Kylie already called dibs.” David: “You told Kylie before us? Wow that’s cold.” Y/n: “Oh shut up. She was my only friend my age that has a baby. I had to get advice.” David: “ To make it up to me, If one of them is a boy, can you please name it David Jr.” Y/n: “Yes…. for 250k.” Jason: “Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him… cause it would probably be sponsored by seatgeek.” David: *looks to the camera* “You heard it yourself people. If she has a boy, she’ll name it David Jr. for 250k. “ Y/n: “Damn now I’m kinda scared”

NEXT DAY, Corinna & Mariah:

Okay so that went well, I gonna do a 2 truths, 1 lie with Corinna & Mariah. They’re gonna be playing on the same team, so it’s 2 against 1, well 2 against 3 lol. After about 3 rounds, it was a tie (I lied on other ones so we can tie.) Y/N: “Okay so my first one is that I broke my leg when I was 15, 2. I hate Corinna’s dog and 3. I’m pregnant. Mariah: “Oh what the fuck….. Ummm.” Corinna: “Wait, you hate Carl?!” Y/n: “Just answer the question.” Mariah & Corinna: “The lie has to be that you’re pregnant.” Y/n: “the lie is that I hate Carl.” It took them a minute to understand what I said. Mariah: ‘YOU’RE FUCKING PREGNANT.” Corinna: “OH MY GOD NO WAAAY.” Y/n: “Oh and one more thing! “Shows them the twin ultrasound.” Mariah & Corinna: ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING.” Corinna: “Are they Jeff’s?” Y/n: “Is it that obvious?” Mariah: “Kind of. The boys haven’t noticed because they’re idiots.”

NEXT DAY: Kristen, Scotty, Todd, Zane, Heath & Matt:

(I made this a big collab cause I was running out of ways to tell people)

So for this reveal, I asked the six of them to send in their silly baby/kid pictures so we can react to them. The last pic will be of the twin ultrasound. Y/n: *filming* “Hey guys! I’m here with Kristen, Scotty, Todd, Zane, Heath & Matt, say hi.” All 6 of them: “Hi!!!” Y/n: “This week, we’ll be reacting to our childhood photos and maybe roast them.” All of the pictures were so 90s. Kristen with the classic ruffled poofy dresses, Matt looking like a nerdy kid, Zane holding Hidaya when she was born, 7 year old Scotty singing into a hair brush…. And then the final picture, my twin ultrasound. Everybody was so confused. Zane: “Did someone eat their twin in the womb? cause aint none of us a twin.” And then someone finally noticed. Matt: “Y/n why is your name at the corner of that ultrasound?” Kristen: “NO YOU’RE NOT.” Heath: “OOOO BITCH SHE GONNA HAVE 2 LITTLE COFFEE BEANS.” Scotty and Todd are just speechless. You’re wondering if Todd knew about you and Jeff because he’s his best friend…

You pulled aside Kristen and told her Everything. The only people you can trust with who the dad is are the girls. Kristen: “Are you gonna tell him?” Y/n: “No… He doesn’t treat me right. If he’s never treated me right, how is he gonna treat these babies?”

Todd & Jeff on a hike:

Todd: “Hey, did you hear that Y/n is pregnant?” Jeff: “whoa no I didn’t. Who told you that?” Todd: “y/n did. She revealed it in a collab she was doing with others. She’s having twins.” Jeff: “Jesus Christ, twins? That’s gonna be terrible.” Todd: “She must’ve forgot to tell you. Maybe pregnancy brain really is a thing.” Jeff’s thoughts: “I knew that bitch was sleeping with other people. There’s no way those babies are mine. She had no right trying to get mad at me cause I’d ghost her. Thank god I’m with Natalie. She’s like no one I’ve ever dated before.”

Hanging out with Kylie & Stass:

I told all of the vlog squad. Stass: “Did you tell Jeff?” Y/n: “No, but Olivia told me that Todd told him. I think Jeff is too dumb to connect the dots. He won’t figure it out.” Kylie: “Are you sure you don’t want to tell him? You’re having twins and one baby is already a lot but two? You need the help. You know what, I can hire nannies for you.” Y/n: “What? No, you don’t have to do that. I don’t wanna spend your money.” Kylie: “It’s not like I’m running out. You do remember that I’m a billionaire, right?” Stass & Y/n: “How could we forget lol.”

David, Jason & Josh POV

David: “It sucks that y/n is gonna be a single mom. It’s gonna be a lot; 2 babies and she’s in her last year of college. I hope she’ll be okay.” Jason: “She’ll be fine. She has all of us to look out for her.” Josh: “I have my own kid to watch, so I’ll probably not be as much help.” David: “She has been one of the best friends I’ve ever had. We met on vine in 2015, we met up here in LA and then the rest was history. She was really there for me when Liza and I broke up. She was my shoulder to cry on. Honestly, I’d do anything for her.” Jason: “Do you have a thing for y/n?” David stayed silent. Josh: “I’m not sure if it’d be the right time to try to win her over. She has a lot going on.” David: “It’s getting pretty late, y’all should be heading home. Jason: “Yeah. I have to pick up Charlie and Wyatt early tomorrow. Josh: “The wife doesn’t like that I stay out late, goodnight.”

David thinking to himself:

I’ve had a thing for y/n for a while now but I don’t know. It’s obvious that she had a thing with Jeff. Because of those 2 fights they had in my backyard, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jeff was the father. I was mad at how Jeff spoke about her. She not like that at all! I mean, it’s not wrong if she were but no one should ever talk to a women like that. I’ll help her as much as possible; I’m not opposed if anything were to spark between us along the way…

Back to Y/n, Kylie & Stass:

Kylie: “When’s your next appointment?” Y/n: “2-3 weeks, why?” Kylie: “Cause by that time, WE CAN FIND OUT THE GENDER OF THE BABIES!” Stass: “She’s obviously gonna go all out. Did you see Stormi’s first birthday? I swear it looked bigger than a sweet 16.” Y/n: “Oh boy… or girl…”

------------------------

We get to find out the genders in the next chapter!! She’ll be like 16 weeks by then… I’m excited! I’ve already decided what both are gonna be… There’s gonna be some surprises! Oh and David has a thing for y/n? Ooooo girl the Tea is HOT. I also just realized the date of the video I picked when y/n and Jeff diddled (yes I said diddled).... The date on the video says 7/20…. That means the twins are due 4/20……. I swear I didn’t plan that lmao.

Taglist: @elvlogsquad @siemprestan @zavidzobrik @1-800-juniper @iminlovewithenchilidadas @ilsolee

[maren-as-an-adult]

The 2020 Experience, Part 2

When I flew back to New York a few days later (yes, I braved the airports and a plane) I could not stop crying. What should have been a loving and heartfelt reunion between myself and Graham turned into an awkward situation for him, with me bent double in the front seat of his car sobbing inconsolably.

And suddenly I had to adjust back to life more or less on my own. I couldn’t have friends come over, my family who lived in NYC were too far for me to get to them without public transit, and Graham’s mother was immunocompromised so we couldn’t spend much time together. I was back to sitting at my computer, taking online surveys for the promise of money and sending out application after application. Jena and Julia, my other two roommates, were still not back, so it was just me and Polina.

Things started to get a little better though. I had applied for Medicaid so I had some health coverage again. I scheduled an appointment with my new doctor, I started talking to a therapist again in August, and I stopped budgeting for birth control and got it for free. The after school program was up and running again, this time remotely (only one of my schools was able to host their program though, so my work hours were still cut). I looked forward to every other weekend, where Graham would drive out and pick me up to spend a few nights at his place. Jena came back and announced she was moving out, and our new roommate Michelle moved in. Michelle and I had a lot in common, and I found it easy to talk to and connect with her.

I even got out to see my family. I braved the subway to see my family up in Astoria, and Polina told me about the ferries I could take that brought me to my family on the Upper East Side.

One day in late September, however, I woke up with abdominal pain. It was pretty mild at first, but it kept getting worse. As someone who has periods, I assumed it was just week-early cramps brought on by stress combined with a poor diet that didn’t include much fiber. I tried to assuage the feeling by eating an apple, but after a quick trip to the bathroom it made a reappearance coming back up the way it went down. I decided to do what most people do (and what doctors hate) and look up my symptoms online to try and self-diagnose. The two big contenders for what I was suffering from were IBS or an ulcer. I texted Graham and told him what was up, and he asked what I was going to do. My current plan was to try and wait it out, and if things still felt bad in the morning, I would go to the ER.

If it wasn’t for Graham’s suggestion that I go to an urgent care center (which I had completely forgot existed at this point in time) I may have died.

At 7:12pm I grabbed my bag and walked three blocks to the urgent care center closest to my apartment. Unfortunately, they were no longer taking walk-ins for the day, but told me that another urgent care center was open until 8 and would take walk-ins.

It was 17 blocks away.

I walked 17 blocks with severe abdominal pain to this urgent care center just to be seen and tell a health professional I wasn’t feeling well. I knew there wouldn’t be much they could do, but maybe they could give me a better idea of what was wrong with me. I called Graham and gave him the address of the urgent care center, asking that he come out to be with me. Whatever was happening to me, I did not want to go through it alone.

I made it to the urgent care center fifteen minutes before they closed. I was taken to an observation room where a brusque young Russian woman took down my vitals and information as we waited for the RN to come see me. When he finally did come in and I started telling him what was wrong, I barely finished explaining what happened after I ate and failed to keep down the apple that he interrupted me saying, “You need to go to the ER immediately, because what you described sounds like you have a GI bleed. You’ll need an endoscopy, where they take a camera on a long, thin tube and feed it down in through your stomach and into your intestines to see if you’re bleeding internally.”

It was getting late, I was alone, and I was TERRIFIED.

I was told where the nearest ERs were, was given a printed referral, and then dismissed for the evening. All I could do was wait for Graham and tell him what was going on... and then call my mother and tell her.

I love my mom. I’ll likely never not love my mom for the rest of my life. But sometimes she takes a bad situation and makes me feel even worse. When I told her I had called Graham to come get me, she pointedly asked why I didn’t call any of my family who lived closer than Graham. Well, of my family who live in the greater metropolitan area of New York City, we have:

- My Aunt Barbara and Uncle Danny, currently NOT in NYC and instead staying out in Milford, PA

- My Uncle Brian, Aunt Corinne, and cousin Nikki up in Astoria. My aunt cannot drive and gets panicked easily, my cousin only has her learner’s permit, and my uncle (though I love him) would not be the most comforting presence to me at the moment, being VERY pro-Trump Republican and a FIRM anti-masker

- My Uncle Mike, Aunt Gloria, and cousins Maura (and her husband Andrew), Brendan, and Kevin. Maura, at this point in time, was nine months pregnant and due to give birth any minute, and I was not going to be responsible for pulling my aunt or uncle away from the birth of their first grandchild

With this information presented to my mother, she did concede that calling Graham had not been a terrible idea. Continuing to fret, however, she said I should at least have called them to let them know what was happening. She took it upon herself to do that, and additionally call my father and tell him (dad was on the road at that point and so missed my initial call of “Hey, jsyk, I’m going to the ER, wish me luck!”). Graham pulled up, I ended my mom’s call telling her I’d keep her posted, and headed off to the unknown.

As we were driving to the closest ER, my dad called. Thankfully, he gave advice that calmed me down. He listened to my symptoms, told me it was likely an ulcer, and told me what would happen when I went in: I’d be admitted to the ER, they’d take my vitals, I’d explain my symptoms over and over and over to multiple people, they’d probably admit me overnight, knock me out and do an endoscopy, and in the morning I’d be sent home with a prescription to help with the ulcer. I felt better.

Graham and I made it to the ER at about 8:45pm. I was admitted immediately, my vitals were taken, I was given a cup to pee in, an IV was placed in my arm, my blood was taken, and I told my story to two different doctors and a few different nurses. I went in for an ultrasound to rule out pregnancy, endometriosis, and ovarian cysts. I waited, with Graham by my side.

The doctor came back at about 11:30pm and told me my urinalysis and ultrasound came back unremarkable, but my bloodwork showed a high white blood cell count, which meant my body was fighting off an infection somewhere. This is absolutely something I did and did not want to hear in the middle of a global pandemic. On the one hand, go immune system! Keep me safe, you beautiful, hard-working bitch! On the other hand, what was it my body was fighting off?

The doctor said if I wanted to leave at that point, I could, because nothing obvious was found. “But,” she said, “I would strongly recommend we do a CT scan just to be safe.”

It was late, both Graham and I were tired, and my abdominal pain wasn’t awful to the point where I was bent double anymore. I could stand and walk around with only a slight discomfort. The thought of getting out of the ER, a frankly dangerous place to be in these COVID times, was deliciously appealing.

“What the hell, lets do the CT scan.”

I was given almost two liters of fluid to drink to prep for the scan. It didn’t taste bad, actually, kind of like a flat lemon La Croix that had been left in its aluminum can too long. At 12:30am I went in for the scan. Two hours later, Graham and I were still waiting for the results. At around 2:30am Graham turned to me and said, “Honestly, I’m ready to go. I won’t leave you here alone, but I’m exhausted and ready to get out of here.” I responded, “Honestly, I am too.”

At that moment, a doctor walked around the corner into our area and said, in a too cheery voice, “Hi there! You have appendicitis.”

I swear in that moment I could feel the cosmic force of the universe tremble with suppressed laughter at this finely crafted moment of ironic timing. My only response to the doctor and Graham was, “Well... I guess I’m staying here for the night?” Remember when I thought it was IBS? Couldn’t we go back to that?

I’ve mentioned before the idea of surgery scares me. I’d hoped I’d only have to experience anesthesia from getting my wisdom teeth removed. I fully expected to break down in hysterics then, but I guess I was just too tired and overwhelmed to react in such a big way. I called my mom and told her what was happening, and the first suggestion she made was for me to come home and heal in Chicago.

...mom, I love you, but getting on a plane immediately after major surgery in the MIDDLE OF A GLOBAL PANDEMIC FROM AN AIRBORNE VIRUS is frankly the DUMBEST IDEA EVER.

After realizing that would be a bad move, she suggested she come out to be with me while I heal. While an appealing process, it ultimately wouldn’t be of much use, because she’d have to quarantine for two weeks before seeing anyone at that point. Eventually, she offered to book a hotel room for me and Graham for a long, extended weekend to help me recover. It was extremely generous of her, and I’ll forever be grateful she did it.

I was hooked up to antibiotics to prep for surgery, and the attending surgeon explained the procedure to me. Everyone was so calm and sure of themselves that I felt okay, and the inevitable wave of panic was held off. At 4:30am, I was wheeled up to the operating room. Graham stayed by my side as long as he could and walked all the way to the doors of the OR hallway with me and the attending. I made sure he and my mom had each others’ phone numbers so he could give updates. I was wheeled through the doors, and met with my operating team.

The anesthesiologist and practicing surgeon assured me that they felt fine, well-rested, and at the top of their game, and I was able to relax some as I moved off of my gurney onto the operating table. Once I was on the table, clad only in a thin hospital gown and gripper socks, my body started to shake. Whether it was from the cold or the panic had finally set in I wasn’t sure, but I calmly told the doctors that I thought my fight or flight response was kicking in, and they might need to consider restraining my shaking limbs.

They did, and they also put a heated (and somewhat weighted) blanket over me which relaxed me so my limbs weren’t shaking so violently. An oxygen mask was placed on my face, sealing my nose and mouth into a thick plastic chamber. I tried to breathe deeply and evenly, forcing myself to think of pleasant thoughts and not spiral into a headspace of worst case scenarios. I think what helped most was actually an attending nurse reading out loud my patient chart for posterity and recording’s sake, and he said, “Patient is a twenty-seven year old female named Maureen Ford.”

The annoyance I felt at being misnamed (again as Maureen) cut through the second wave of panic buildup, and my only goal was to correct him. The oxygen mask muffled my voice, but I like to think if you were to listen to the audio recording of my surgery, you would hear, very faintly in the background, me indignantly stating, “It’s pronounced MAREN!”

My last thought before I went under was that I need to make sure that nurse was corrected.

When I woke up, I felt more comfortable than I had in a very long time. The only thing that kept me from being in a total state of comfortable bliss was the slowly incoming knowledge that my mouth was drier than the Sahara desert at noon in July. Despite this, and the residual effects of the anesthesia still in effect, I was pleased to find that not only could I clearly hear and understand the conversations happening around me, I could also coherently speak and communicate with people. I asked for water as soon as I could, and the nurse told me that they’d have to work me up to water. We’d start with a lemon swab in my mouth, followed by ice chips, and then I could get water. The attending surgeon came in to tell me the surgery went smoothly without complications, and I asked her if she could make sure whoever called me Maureen was corrected on my name pronunciation.

I really hope it wasn’t written off as a sleepy patient’s delirious request, because I was absolutely serious about it.

After eating some very powdery eggs and drinking an apple juice, I was discharged and told to get my medications, rest up, avoid lifting anything over 15 pounds, stay away from submerging my sutures in water, and to schedule a one week post-op follow up with my primary care provider and a two week post-op follow up with the attending surgeon.

Graham drove us back to Bay Ridge, and I gave him my keys to go grab some essentials from my apartment. I gave Michelle and Polina a heads up that he was coming up (and I had let them know what was happening before I went into surgery) and that I’d be gone recovering through the weekend and partway into the week. They both wished me a speedy recovery, Graham grabbed a few essentials for me, and we drove up the street to pick up my meds from Rite Aid.

For some reason, they had only filled two of the four prescriptions. One they didn’t fill because it was a controlled substance and the hospital hadn’t submitted the proper authorization for it, and the other prescription (one of two laxatives) I have no idea why it wasn’t filled. Eventually, I got both my pain medications and one of the laxatives, with the other laxative to be filled and picked up at a different Rite Aid, closer to Graham’s work.

Exhausted, sore, hungry, and (in my case) in desperate need of a shower, we made it back to Graham’s to spend one more day there before going off to the hotel my mom had booked us. Graham had been scheduled to work that day, but after calling into the office was told he should only come in if he thought it was absolutely necessary. He ended up catching a few hours of sleep before going in for the late shift at work. I managed to take a shower and fell asleep on his couch as his bed was too soft and sent my abdomen into absolute agony. I blinked in and out of consciousness for the next few hours, waiting for Graham to come home with my last bit of medication. In that time, my dad called to check on me and ask how I felt, what I was prescribed, and what was expected of me. As we were talking Graham called, and I excused myself so I could answer the call. Nothing could have prepared me for what Graham was going to say to me.

“I was just hit by a truck.”

*click*

[hazzabeeforlou]

On the eve of HS2, I felt I needed to reflect and write a diary entry of sorts, an ode to where I was and where I am now, a musing on how HS1 ushered in a whole new world for me. This is long and more personal than anything I’ve previously shared, but in honor of vulnerability and maybe helping someone else who’s struggling... here it is. 

The most exposure 2015 me had to pop music was occasionally listening to ‘hits’ radio. My old art teacher in high school had blasted the classics of the 60s and 70s daily, so I knew those, albeit not the names, but the music, the style, the melodic tropes and such. 2015 me didn’t have much time for pop music. I was getting a fancy degree in classical music from one of the best conservatories in the world, and I’d made it there after four years with a highly abusive teacher in undergrad who gave me horrible anxiety; by the end, whenever she would walk into a room, I would get chills and start shaking. She delighted in lying to me, in calling me out in front of my peers. Worse, I was arguably her highest-achieving student. The day I got into Juilliard she took me for “tea” to celebrate, where she proceeded to spend the whole time telling me how she had made this happen, how her connections got me to NY, how I should be grateful. 

Entering the world of NYC and Juilliard I was an awestruck, anxious mess. Everything moved too fast, the school was overwhelming, my studio mates were famous already, some of them having won world-famous competitions and been on the cover of magazines. I was in the elite place, a place my working class roots had never prepared me for. My dad was a millwright. He went to work every day in steel-toed boots and overalls and often returned so filthy mom wouldn’t let him wash his clothes in the household washing machine. But I was nothing if not adaptable, and grateful, and charming, and I did my best. I worked hard. But my health kept deteriorating. 

All through undergrad I’d been feeling progressively worse. I had horrible acne that I presumed was caused by stress, as I’d never suffered with it in high school. I was already an introvert, but body insecurity led me to hardly ever socialize. I would spent hours getting ready for things, never willing to show my bare face. But that wasn’t the worst; I’d developed what I now understand was an eating disorder, because no matter how much I exercised or dieted, I kept gaining weight, or rather, I lost all my baby fat but remained the same scale number. I kept telling my mother I was fat. I didn’t tell her that I hated the wind, that I hated running, because it made my stomach protrude and the whole world could see the extra pounds I carried. I never made an appointment with an OBGYN because I didn’t date much less have sex, and my mother had told me, well you don’t ever need to be seen until you do. I came to NYC well versed in wearing baggy sweaters and scarfs that hid my form. And for two years, as my breathing got worse and worse, as my energy levels dropped, as my skin hurt and itched, I pushed forwards. I remember practicing one day and my eyes going black. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe. 

It was getting into an international competition that saved me. I got the news in early May of 2016; I jumped around my room and I started coughing, and the next day a hernia appeared above my belly button. I was only slightly worried, but I went to see the Juilliard doctor. She asked if I’d gained weight, she said even a couple pounds could do it. I was, as always, ashamed, red faced, embarrassed as she prodded around on my torso. 

She said I’d need surgery. So I scheduled it in NYC for two days after my graduation. I played my recital, but with a binder around my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t remember my memorized music. I nearly passed out. I stumbled on the sidewalk afterwards. 

When I woke from the surgery I was in blinding pain, teeth chattering uncontrollably, in shock. I couldn't open my eyes, and every breath felt like knives slicing into my chest. I heard the nurses say, “We’ve given you three IVs of Percocet, do you want us to give you a forth?” I said no, thinking, ‘what if I die from an overdose?’ After two hours my mother came in search of me. It was supposed to be a day surgery. She demanded morphine. They sent me home on it, but two days later I’d thrown up twice and was back in the ER. A CT showed I had an ovarian cyst. The doctor said to me, “It’s 28 inches. It’s the size of a dinner plate.” I didn’t understand. They rushed me back for another surgery, and asked me to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible if I ended up paralyzed. I signed it. I joked with the nurses before they put me under. I was shaking with pain. I thought, if this is the end, I’ve had a good life. I’ll be with my doggy, my baby puppy. I’ve graduated from my dream school. I’ve gotten into an elite international competition. I’ll go out at the top of my game. It’s okay. 

But then I woke up. Over the next year, I would wish countless times that I hadn’t. I could barely walk. I couldn’t lift things like a fork, or my computer. I couldn’t shower or cough or even shit. I couldn’t practice or sit upright for more than fifteen minutes. Pain became a constant. I started to wake up with night sweats, my forehead creased in subconscious pain. I would jump at every loud noise, my heart lurching like a ruined engine, and I couldn’t remember names of flowers. I fell into a massive depression over the next few months, made worse by the 2016 election; because of my infirmity I had moved back home with my Trump-voting parents. The bravest thing I did that fall was ‘come out’ as a liberal on Facebook. My parents pretended not to notice when I stayed up late that cold November night, huddled with a blanket on the couch, crying my eyes out.

The Christmas 2016 season is a blur. I know I half lived in memories, half in grief, but all in self-pitying misery. I remember reading a passing article about Jay, not knowing who it was, and I remember adding a lost mother to the list of things I cried about. How could the world be so cruel, so unfair? My days were filled with PT and sleep, immobility and exhaustion, and questions, questions like if I can’t do what I love, what I’ve spent years training for, what’s the point? What does it mean to be an artist when you can’t do your art? What is left of me that matters? Is the future only more pain? It would have been better to have died. It would have been better to have died. 

Up until this point I had been unlucky in love. I could never find men attractive, though many friends pressured me to try, which of course had led to not good things. I’d been confronted a couple times about maybe being gay, but I’d shot this down immediately, my face bright red, my heart pounding. No, that’s not it, I’m just picky. Two girls in grad school had flirted with me; I’d accidentally gone on a date with one. I’d felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly uncomfortable about her. But how could I ever unpack all of that when just coming out as a liberal had given me anxiety for days...  

The new year came and I had nothing to look forward to. I could see no happy future. I wasn’t really in my right mind. I would escape as best I could, perhaps in masochistic ways; I’d watch SNL for humorous liberal comfort, and Colbert to feel some spark of angry solidarity. And that’s how I stumbled on Harry. He got me with his puns, because I love those. For the first time in months, I was giggling about something, this charming boy with curls and dimples who had replaced the scream-speech of James Cordon. For once I didn’t turn the tv off after Colbert. 

I began listening to Harry’s songs. As I had no reference for contemporary pop music, his old school rock album was familiar to me in a comforting way. I knew these sounds, these tropes, and yet they didn’t feel stale to me, they spoke to something I was feeling in the present. Because the album, in essence, was about pain, wasn’t it? Pain and escaping it. The lies we tell to survive, the dreams we cling to for hope, the drugs we use to forget. I’d never bought a pop album before, Harry was my first, and I listened to it for hours every day. 

HS1 seeped into my blood, but I’d been on a hopeless, aimless track for so long that the railway tie hadn’t yet switched. One warm, sunny spring day I wrote a note, filled a bag with rocks, and walked to the old bike trail, out past the freeway, into the marshes and pools of abandoned swampy wasteland. FTDT played in my head on a loop as I walked, as my brain hummed with the equation of worth. Was it worth it to stay alive?

Yes. I threw the rocks. I threw them as far as my fragile arms would allow, and they splashed into the murky water. And I turned around and called my mom to come get me. Harry had made something that was beautiful, that was touching, that was real. And if he could... then maybe I could too. Maybe I didn’t have to be just what I’d been before. Maybe I could try creating other things; maybe I could make art that, like Harry’s music, made other people feel less alone. 

There was something magical about that album. Not freedom, per se, but the promise of it, a glimpse of truth that kept me hanging on. 

I began writing poems again, songs. I got into an orchestra program, I healed month by month, I started carrying crystals, I found this crazy fandom and, little by little, grew to understand that my yearning upon looking at baby larry videos was really a cry of sameness that I had never before understood. After the Pulse shooting, during my horrible homebound year, I’d watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his love is love is love speech, and I’d burst into tears. And I’d not known why. Now I began to realize. I remember the first tentative anon I sent to Phoenix @alienfuckeronmain asking if maybe I was... bi? I remember anxiously awaiting her answer, as if I needed an invitation to join the community, to be valid, to have this not just be a crazy swelling of hope in my chest. She replied while I was wandering through a corn maze in the frigidness of October. The next day I walked into rehearsal and I felt free, free of the way boys looked at me, free of being FOR them, and I’d never felt so... alive. Coincidentally I met my ex girlfriend that day too. 

Through Harry I found this fandom, and Louis. Louis, who has spoken to me on levels I cannot even express, whose class and political and emotional intelligence have challenged me to stand up for things I never thought I could. For me these last few years have felt like a journey WITH Harry. As he started waving them, I started wearing rainbows, just subtly. A knit scarf, a postcard, a bag. I started writing fic, the most healing thing I’ve ever done. I learned to create art away from the singular thing I’d been trained to dump my all into, and I learned that I have so much more to offer, even if chronic pain will follow me in some way or another for the rest of my life. 

I’m so thankful to Harry for taking me on this adventure with him; I don’t know if I’d have ever taken that first step by myself. It was like he held my hand through it all, like this fandom held my hand through it all. Like by being himself, Harry helped me be brave enough to evolve too. 

Through the catalyst of Harry’s art I’ve experienced more happiness than I’d have ever imagined. I cannot wait to go on this next journey, a second album, and reflect on just how far we’ve both come. 

[ap-kinda-lit]

Let me tell you guys a little story (and, yeah, it’s a story about my period but do not get cringey and grossed out about it and please listen).

I first got my period when I was in 5th grade (I was 11). And throughout middle school, I hated my period. A lot of girls hate their periods but I really hated my period. Because whenever I had my period, it was a freaking nightmare. 

For starters, it was a mess. I would bleed heavily and violently and I would go through pads quickly and I sometimes got blood on my shorts and pants. The weird part of that was that I’m really lightweighted and skinny, yet so much blood came out. But it didn’t end there! I would sometimes get my period not just once a month but twice. Sometimes I wouldn’t even get my period, like it would skip. And the mood swings I had were awful. My depression was horrible during my period and the littlest things would piss me off right away. But the absolute worst part for me was the cramps. Oh my God, they were god awful! At best, they were painful, like panging and twisting or a soreness in my pelvis; but at worst, they were agonizing. They would feel like someone was carving my insides up with a pair of scissors. They were so bad that I would shake, make my legs hurt too, and I would moan and struggle to hold back cries. That’s how bad they would be.

And it was one of these awful period episodes that I was having one day in middle school. During one particular class, I was in absolute pain: I was hunched over in my seat, my legs shaking, my jaw clenched, and whimpers coming from my throat. Some kids noticed and asked me if I was okay.

Another person noticed: the teacher. And not just any teacher. But probably the shittiest teacher I ever had. Let’s call her Ms. Umbridge. Anyhow, Ms. Umbridge noticed that I was in pain and how I was acting, so she pulled me outside. She asked me if I was having my period. Of course, I told her ‘yes’. What she said next still makes me pissed to this day. She told me that it was normal to have really bad cramps during your period and that I would have to learn to get used to it at some point. Then, she and I went back into the room and carried on the class like nothing happened.

Basically, she told me to suck it up and deal with it.

Now, I was in middle school and I was 14 when this happened. And I didn’t know a lot about these kinds of things. When I first got my period I didn’t even know it, I just found all this blood in my underwear and I freaked because i thought something was wrong with me. So, when Ms. Umbridge said this to me, I was pretty confused but still upset because of how much pain I was in and she was just telling me to walk it off. Yet, I tried to forget it because, at the time, I thought most periods were like this. My mom figured that the cramps were worse for me because of my autism, which made me more sensitive. So, I went along with everything.

A year or two later, I moved and started high school somewhere else. My periods were still irregular, messy, and painful. So my mom finally took me to the OBGYN to see if there was something going on behind it.

And there was.

Prior to the visit, my older sister went to the doctor because they thought she had appendicitis. They checked her out and it turned out she didn’t have appendicitis. They found a cyst in her ovary, instead. Now, my sister also had the same periods that I had: excruciating cramps, crazy mood swings, and an irregular cycle. That’s when they found out that what my sister really had was PCOS: polycystic ovarian syndrome.

PCOS is basically what it sounds like: you get cysts in your ovaries. They develop there when you’re on your period and it leads you to have all these symptoms, most of which my sister and I matched perfectly. PCOS can also mess with your fertility, your heart, your weight, and other things. It’s also genetic. So when my sister was diagnosed, my mom thought I had it too so she took me to the OBGYN to see.

And I did. I do have PCOS.

They prescribed me birth control to help regulate my menstrual cycle and manage the cramps. Since then, my cramps are normally not as bad as they used to be and my period is more manageable. Looking back on it now, though, it makes me mad how Ms. Umbridge and others perceived my period and the painful cramps they gave me. I probably would’ve been diagnosed sooner, but I also probably wouldn’t have because: a) I’m autistic, so most would assume that I was exaggerating the cramps a little, b) I didn’t understand anything about periods or my own body, and c) most of the time, people just go with it and assume that that’s just how periods are and that’s what people who get them must deal with or something like that.

It bothers me how so many people and society look at and treat menstrual cycles. I’ve realized that the way we view menstrual cycles played a part in my sister and me not being diagnosed sooner. And it was shown perfectly through my teacher, Ms. Umbridge.

So please don’t just brush off menstrual cycles or ignore them and belittle them.

[bohemianrhapsody86]

200 Things About Me (originally 200 Things You Can Put In My Ask)

I got this off of @rami-malek-trash - don’t know who the original poster was, sorry if it’s you. I’m bored and cramping and no one usually sends me asks anyway, so I’m just going to answer all of these myself 

200: My crush’s name is: Drew (Now boyfriend, but he was my middle school crush) 199: I was born in: 1986 198: I am really: cool 197: My cellphone company is: T-Mobile 196: My eye color is: green 195: My shoe size is: 9.5/10 194: My ring size is: 9/10 193: My height is: 5′6″ 192: I am allergic to: Nothing 191: My 1st car was: 2001 PT Cruiser 190: My 1st job was: Server at a local pizzeria 189: Last book you read: Startalk: Everything You Ever Need to Know About Space Travel, Sci-Fi, the Human Race, the Universe, and Beyond by Neil DeGrasse Tyson 188: My bed is: Not very comfortable. I need a new mattress, but I need a job first.  187: My pet: A siamese cat named Chico. 186: My best friend: Amanda  185: My favorite shampoo is: I like using Aussie 2-in-1, I also like using Shimmer Lights occasionally so I can keep my gray hairs nice and shiny.  184: Xbox or ps3: PS3 183: Piggy banks are: Cool. I have one that counts my change lol 182: In my pockets: Nothing because they hate putting usable pockets in women’s pants.  181: On my calendar: I marked where I started my period yesterday, and my boyfriends 32nd birthday is next Tuesday.  180: Marriage is: Something I want everyone to have the option for if they want it. 179: Spongebob can: use his imagination 178: My mom: is amazing! 177: The last three songs I bought were? Cool and Sucker by The Jonas Brothers, Don’t really buy many singles, just albums if I’m interested and their cheap.  176: Last YouTube video watched: Brooke Candy - Paper or Plastic 175: How many cousins do you have? Too many to remember 174: Do you have any siblings? Yes, an older brother and older half-sister. 173: Are your parents divorced? Yes, they divorced back in 1999 172: Are you taller than your mom? Yes. We used to be the same height, but gravity has taken a hold of her and squashed her down.  171: Do you play an instrument? I used to play the trombone in middle school, but that was 20 years ago. I’m sure if I ever got my hands on one again, I might remember a scale or two.  170: What did you do yesterday? Went around town job hunting and then bought a maxi dress at a local craft store.  [ I Believe In ] 169: Love at first sight:Yes 168: Luck: Yes 167: Fate: Yes 166: Yourself: Sometimes 165: Aliens: Yes 164: Heaven: Yes and No 163: Hell: We live there now. 162: God: No 161: Horoscopes: Yes 160: Soul mates: Yes 159: Ghosts: Yes 158: Gay Marriage: Yes 157: War: No 156: Orbs: Yes/No 155: Magic: Yes [ This or That ] 154: Hugs or Kisses: Kisses 153: Drunk or High: High  152: Phone or Online: Online 151: Red heads or Black haired: Black haired 150: Blondes or Brunettes: Brunette 149: Hot or cold: Cold 148: Summer or winter: Winter 147: Autumn or Spring: Autumn 146: Chocolate or vanilla:Chocolate 145: Night or Day: Night 144: Oranges or Apples: Apples 143: Curly or Straight hair: Curly 142: McDonalds or Burger King: McDonalds 141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: Milk Chocolate 140: Mac or PC: PC 139: Flip flops or high heals: Flip Flops 138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: Sweet and Poor 137: Coke or Pepsi: Always been a Pepsi girl 136: Hillary or Obama: Obama 135: Burried or cremated: Cremated and turned into a tree or my ashes made into a vinyl 134: Singing or Dancing: Singing 133: Coach or Chanel: Neither 132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Katherine McPhee 131: Small town or Big city: Small Town 130: Wal-Mart or Target: Target 129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Ben Stiller 128: Manicure or Pedicure: Mani 127: East Coast or West Coast: East Coast - never been to the West Coast 126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Birthday because it sometimes falls on Thanksgiving.  125: Chocolate or Flowers: Chocolate 124: Disney or Six Flags: Disney 123: Yankees or Red Sox: Neither, Cubbies til the day I die.  [ Here’s What I Think About ] 122: War: Pointless 121: George Bush: Better than the asshat in office now. 120: Gay Marriage: If I can get married to my boyfriend, the my friend Jerry should be able to get married to his boyfriend, Josh.  119: The presidential election: I hate that orange buffoon.  118: Abortion: I’m pro-choice.  117: MySpace: Always had trouble figuring out my Top 8 and what background I wanted to use.  116: Reality TV: Only thing I really watch are cooking competitions. Those are the only ones that matter. Not a fan of the Kardashians or the Bachelor/ette bullcrap.  115: Parents: My mom is amazing, my ‘dad’ was never really there.  114: Back stabbers: Asshats 113: Ebay: Hardly use it.  112: Facebook: Good to stay in touch with people you want to/some of the groups on there are awesome.  111: Work: Don’t have a job as of yet. *keeps fingers crossed I hear back from someone soon* 110: My Neighbors: Loud AF and nasty. I live in an apartment and the neighbors upstairs have so many kids and animals up there it’s ridiculous. I wish they’d leave.  109: Gas Prices: Ridiculous, but not as bad as I’ve seen it before.  108: Designer Clothes: Meh, not my style unless I find something in my size at Goodwill.  107: College: Been there, done that. Not really for me. Never graduated.  106: Sports: I like watching them, mainly baseball and basketball. The NFL can go fuck themselves.  105: My family: Love my blood relatives and my chosen family.  104: The future: It’s so bright, I gotta wear shades.  [ Last time I ] 103: Hugged someone: last night when my boyfriend came over and brought me my phone charger.  102: Last time you ate: An hour ago. 101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: At my bestie’s baby shower.  100: Cried in front of someone: Sometime last week 99: Went to a movie theater: When Endgame came out 98: Took a vacation: 2010 97: Swam in a pool: A few summers ago 96: Changed a diaper: 2007? 95: Got my nails done: 2007? 94: Went to a wedding: 1999 93: Broke a bone: Never *keeps fingers crossed* 92: Got a peircing: 2012? 91: Broke the law: I probably broke the speed limit yesterday at some point.  90: Texted: about 2am this morning.  [ MISC ] 89: Who makes you laugh the most: My bestie Amanda and boyfriend Drew 88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my cat. 87: The last movie I saw: Ant-Man  86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: getting a job 85: The thing im not looking forward to: Interviewing for a job 84: People call me: loyal 83: The most difficult thing to do is: finding a job 82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: Yep, 77 in a 55. 81: My zodiac sign is: Sun - Sagittarius, Moon - Leo

80: The first person i talked to today was: If you count texting my boyfriend at 2am, then him.  79: First time you had a crush: Sometime in Elemetary School.  78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: my mom 77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: yesterday 76: Right now I am talking to: myself 75: What are you going to do when you grow up: I have no clue 74: I have/will get a job: soon 73: Tomorrow: Never Comes 72: Today: Is the day 71: Next Summer: Not here 70: Next Weekend: I have no clue 69: I have these pets: 12 year old 17 lb cat named Striper.  68: The worst sound in the world: My cat hacking up a hairball.  67: The person that makes me cry the most is: myself 66: People that make you happy: my mom, brother, sister-in-law, boyfriend, best friend. 65: Last time I cried: sometime last week 64: My friends are: amazing 63: My computer is: pretty cool and loaded up with Sims stuff.  62: My School: I don’t go to school anymore.  61: My Car: gets me there.  60: I lose all respect for people who: disrespect me or my loved one.  59: The movie I cried at was: Endgame 58: Your hair color is: salt & pepper 57: TV shows you watch: Legends of Tomorrow, Worst Cooks in America, Any cooking show really.  56: Favorite web site: Tumblr 55: Your dream vacation: Somewhere away from my town 54: The worst pain I was ever in was: when I had that ovarian cyst. 53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium 52: My room is: messy 51: My favorite celebrity is: too many to list  50: Where would you like to be: in bed 49: Do you want children: nope 48: Ever been in love: yes 47: Who’s your best friend: Amanda 46: More guy friends or girl friends: About the same.  45: One thing that makes you feel great is: music 44: One person that you wish you could see right now: my grandma 43: Do you have a 5 year plan: I don’t even have a 5 minute plan 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: Kinda, not really 41: Have you pre-named your children: Nope 40: Last person I got mad at: The Dump, but that’s a daily thing.  39: I would like to move to: out of the US 38: I wish I was a professional: crocheter/crafter [ My Favorites ] 37: Candy: Butterfinger Cups 36: Vehicle: Don’t really have one 35: President: Barack Obama 34: State visited: Pennsylvania 33: Cellphone provider: Always been with T-Mobile 32: Athlete: Anthony Rizzo 31: Actor: Tom Hanks 30: Actress: Sandra Bullock 29: Singer: Freddie Mercury 28: Band: Queen 27: Clothing store: Lane Bryant 26: Grocery store: Aldi 25: TV show: Don’t really have one 24: Movie: Too many to count 23: Website: This black hole of a site 22: Animal: Cat 21: Theme park: Don’t really have one. I did enjoy Six Flags over Georgia when I went back in 2002. Dollywood is always fun but it’s been even longer than that since I’ve been there.  20: Holiday: Halloween 19: Sport to watch: Baseball 18: Sport to play: Nothing.  17: Magazine: Entertainment Weekly 16: Book: Harry Potter 15: Day of the week: Thursday 14: Beach: Virginia Beach 13: Concert attended: Jonas Brothers in VA Beach 12: Thing to cook: bacon 11: Food: bacon 10: Restaurant: Hmmm....don’t know that one.  9: Radio station: Classic Hits 102.7...hardly any commercials and they tell you the artist and song title after every song. 70s, 80s, and 90s songs.  8: Yankee candle scent: Don’t have one 7: Perfume: The scented oils from a local curiosity shop have some of my fave scents.  6: Flower: Iris 5: Color: Blue 4: Talk show host: Jimmy Fallon 3: Comedian: I’ve got several 2: Dog breed: Corgi 1: Did you answer all these truthfully? Yes.    

[empyreanwritings]

Broken Parts (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x female!reader

Warnings: Mentions of infertility

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Today hasn’t been the greatest day for me, so I apologize for how angsty this is. I promise it ends with some fluff! This is a very personal piece for me, and I cried a lot while writing it but I’m happy with it so I hope you all are too. <3

        Peter noticed right away when you didn't show up for school that day. He asked Ned and MJ where you were, but neither knew where you were or why you skipped. It wasn't out of the ordinary for you to skip a period or two--you always hated going to stats and government--but to miss a full day without saying anything? That was odd. You usually sent a text to someone in the group to tell them where you'd be hiding out for a bit, but it was silent on your end despite Peter's insistent phone calls.

           "You sure you haven't heard from Y/N?" Peter asked for the fourth time that day. MJ just stared at him in annoyance, while Ned shrugged his shoulders. They knew how he felt for you, even if he didn't yet. It was almost amusing to see him worry this much.

           "I think I'm going to go check up on her. She might have a cold or something. Maybe she needs chicken soup," Peter mumbled to himself as he stood up from the table. "I'll try to be back before last period. Just cover for me, okay?"

           He was already halfway out of the cafeteria before Ned could respond. Something didn't feel right today, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe part of him missed not having you around. Maybe since he joined the Avengers he realized that something terrible could happen at any time. The latter made his stomach twist. If something happened to you, he'd lose it.

           Your mom's car wasn't in the driveway when he showed up to your house. He wondered if you were even home at all, but he had to at least check before looking anywhere else.

           "Please be home. Please be home," Peter pleaded.

            He grabbed the spare key from the potted plant next to your door and let himself in. Your house was eerily quiet. Usually, he could hear the TV just loud enough to provide background noise or music blaring from your room upstairs. It felt odd to only hear his footsteps as he walked through the house. The longer he didn't hear you, the more worried he got. How would he be able to live with himself if you got hurt because of him?

           "Y/N?" He called out. "Y/N, are you home?"

           When there was no answer, he dashed up the stairs to your room. The fear of you not being there made him forget to knock on your bedroom door. He couldn't stand there and wait another second without knowing. He had to make sure you were okay.

           "Peter?" You sniffled as you sat up in your bed. The shades were pulled over your window, completely blocking out the outside light.

            His heart fell into his stomach when he caught sight of you. You were wearing the sweater he let you borrow one night when you accidentally fell in the pool at a party. The sleeves had small stains on them as if you had been wiping at your eyes and nose a lot. Even though it was dark, he could see that your eyes were bloodshot. You always made sure no one ever saw you with even so much as a hair out of place. To see you this disheveled surprised him. He knew something major must have happened.

           "What are you doing here?" You tried so hard to keep your voice from cracking, but it didn't work very well.

           Peter took a seat on the edge of your bed and took your hand in his. "I wanted to check up on you. You never miss an entire day of school."

           You stared at his hand and watched how he traced small circles on your skin with his thumb. You swore you'd never tell anyone what happened this morning, but you needed to talk about it. You were afraid, though. You feared that once you started to cry again, you'd never stop. Life wasn't always the easiest, and you did your best to be okay through the hardest parts of it, but for once you felt defeated.

           "I had my appointment with my gyno today," you began quietly. "Remember how I told you my periods were super painful? Like, abnormally painful?"

           Peter nodded, gripping your hand just a little bit tighter in that moment.

           "They did an ultrasound for my ovaries just to see what the problem could be and uh-" You stopped for a moment and took a shaky breath. More tears escaped from your eyes, but you refused to let them take over right now. "Well, uh, apparently I have about twelve or so cysts in each ovary. My doctor said that I most likely have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, which means this could be a persistent problem for me. I don't really remember much of what she said after that because it felt like white noise in my head, but I remember her saying that there's a possibility I will struggle to get pregnant in the future--that I have a chance of having more mis--more miscarriages--"

           You ended up breaking at the end of your sentence. All the feelings you built up inside while you spoke managed to fight past your wall. The sobs felt uncontrollable once they left your lips, and you curled up into a ball next to Peter. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you as close to him as possible. Your whole body shook in his arms. He didn't bother to shush you or try to get you to calm down. He knew that you needed to get it all out.

           There was nothing he could really say to make the situation better. You were the type to have your whole life planned out before you started high school. You wanted to marry the perfect guy, which happened to be Peter in your dreams, and you wanted to have his children. You wanted the stereotypical apple pie life with a loyal puppy and all. And now it felt completely derailed.

           Peter rubbed your arms gently until you finally managed to stop the sobs. He never rushed you. He never made you feel like your crying was inconvenient. He simply waited until you were ready to talk again.

           "You know, you are so incredibly strong, Y/N," he whispered in your ear one you were slightly calmed down. "This whole situation sucks, but if anyone can fight through it, it's you. I know right now it's impossible to see the good in this. And I'm not going to lecture you about finding joy in the dark because how you're feeling right now is totally understandable."

           You made a small noise that you hoped sounded like a normal response to show him you were listening.

           "And let me tell you something." He adjusted slightly so he could look down at you. You tried not to make eye contact because you were incredibly mortified that he was seeing you like this, but he grasped your chin and made you look back at him. "You are not any less of a perfect woman because of this."

           "But what guy is going to want a girl who might not be able to give him what he wants?" You rubbed at your eyes, suddenly aware of the headache you had from crying too much. "What guy can love someone who's got malfunctioning parts?"

           Peter chuckled slightly, "The kind who doesn't like robots."

           You managed to get out a laugh when you realized what you said. "Okay, those weren't the right words to use, but you get what I'm saying."

           "The right guy for you isn't going to let you worry about something like this. He's going to be by your side through all the doctor's appointments and do whatever it takes to make sure you are okay. I mean that."

           "Yeah, but--"

           "But nothing." He wiped the remaining tears away from your face and gave you a small smile. "I'm not going to be super cheesy right now because you're very vulnerable right now, and I don't want to take advantage of you, but I swear to you, I'm going to be here every step of the way if you let me."

           You knew exactly what he was suggesting. You didn't need him to explain further yet because you weren't ready for that talk right now.

           As much as you cared for him, you couldn't let any more feelings out today. Crying for a whole day really took a lot out of you. No one ever warns you about that. They always tell you a good cry is sometimes the best medicine, but they never warn you about the drained feeling you get afterward. You needed just a couple more days, and then you would talk to him about a future with him.

           "Do you have to get back to school?"

           "Nah, I think they can miss me for the rest of the day. Why?"

           You shifted in your bed and laid back down, holding the blanket up for him. He smiled at your gesture and crawled under the blanket with you. His arms wrapped around your torso, keeping you close to his chest. You could feel his heart beating against your back. As weird as it sounded, the feeling soothed you.

           "Can we just stay like this for a little while?" You questioned through a small yawn.

           Peter kissed the back of your head lightly. "Of course. I'm not going anywhere."

[ourfertilityjourney]

I always knew it would come to this

I was 16 the first time a doctor told me that fertility was going to be a struggle for me. I was 16 and my endocrinologist told me that I was going to have to make a decision between being a mom and having a career. At 16, a baby wasn’t on my mind, and I chose a career. Fast forward a few year, and I was 21. We thought it was a pregnancy. We hadn’t been careful enough, I was bleeding outside of my cycle. But then the pain got intolerable, and I left my college class to go to an emergency doctors visit. They sent me in for a STAT ultrasound and a did a pregnancy test, fearing I was having an ectopic pregnancy. I wasn’t. It was an ovarian cyst that had gotten too big and ruptured. I sat in the doctors office the next day, alone and my doctor said “you may never get pregnant...” It didn’t seem real. I was 21 and the women in my family had never had trouble getting pregnant. Thats when they explained that my ovaries were covered in cysts, and that that was not normal. That with my other health concerns was a problem. I got really depressed after that, and the man I had been dating and I broke up eventually. He told me “You aren’t the woman I feel for anymore. I want that girl back” and I said “that girl doesn’t exist anymore, she cant, and we should go our separate ways” he never understood the grief I was experiencing. After that, I insisted that I didn’t want kids, that it was fine. I even asked my doctor to get a hysterectomy. My periods were out of control and I was missing work once a month over it. I was anemic and the periods were causing health problems. They told me that it wasn’t old enough to make that type of decision and I resented them. And now I’m 24, and I’m in a relationship and we’re ready to have kids. In February he asked me to go see a doctor. I completed a phone interview and got in with a doctor that only took on specialized cases. I was glad I got in with her, but at the same time, it was another trigger for me. On March 11, he sat in the waiting room and I sat in the exam room and got the news. You have PCOS, she said. She ordered tests for me, and prepared me with what our initial treatment may be. And then she sent me on my way to have blood draws and ultrasounds.. All with ‘no guarantee’ swirling in my head. I always knew that if I ever was strong and brave enough to try to have a baby that it would come to this moment. It would never be me and my husband saying “lets make a baby” and making one on our own. We would need help and it would be hard. And so here we are, trying to get pregnant. And I’m anxious and scared and stressed. The doctor asked me to calm down, so I’m trying to do that, but writing this blog. By getting all of my feelings towards this out here. 

[breehunny]

We want a baby!

My husband, Cam, and I have been trying to make a baby for over one year now. I had a history of ovarian cysts so I was worried about fertility even before we started trying. I overthink things a lot and get stuck in my head, but I also love going to the doctor, so I figured why not go get checked out. My mom got pregnant with my sister and I very quickly. My sister got pregnant very quickly with all three of her kids. Other than the occasional cyst, there was no reason for me to worry. In Fall of 2017 I went to my family doctor and asked if there were any preliminary tests I should do to see if I’ll have a high risk pregnancy or have trouble getting pregnant. We did a pap smear and progesterone test and that was it. I was told my progesterone was low but aside from that everything was totally normal and we should have no issue getting pregnant. Cam and I were engaged at the time, but knew we wanted to start trying for kids pretty early on in our marriage. We started in February 2018 with the mindset of “if it happens, it happens.” We were both pretty uninformed at that point. I wasn’t really tracking ovulation or any other daily symptoms, we weren’t scheduling sex, it was literally just not using any kind of birth control method. We got eloped in April, and my next period was due at the beginning of May. I missed it! I took a pregnancy test every day from the first day of my missed period for a week….all negative. I called my OB and scheduled a blood test, there’s no way my cycle is this long, it’s been almost 40 days, I’m for sure pregnant. I was so excited. I started planning how I was going to tell Cam, my family, his family, how I was going to hide it for the next 8 weeks, everything! The blood test came back...also negative. My OB told me I was not pregnant and that since my cycles usually lasted 32-37 days this was “normal.” Turns out I just didn’t ovulate that month, my cycle lasted 58 days. That crushed me. That was not normal. While I was waiting for my next period I decided we should buckle down more. I did my research and we started trying every other day during ovulation. This new schedule threw Cam off a bit, he was under the impression that I was fertile every single day. I blame California sex ed, I had the actual sex talk with one of his friends a few months later. When Cam and I were both on the same page we both agreed we would officially start trying. I scheduled another appointment in July after I’d had another full cycle. I wanted to know what to do next. Am I just not going to ovulate regularly anymore? Are my eggs bad now? I’m only 27, why is this happening? My OB gave me a list of tests and medicines we could do before referring me to a fertility specialist. Insurance doesn’t usually cover anything with fertility and if we did everything it would cost in the thousands.I had a thyroid test, hormone tests, an ultrasound, and HCG test where they insert a dye into the uterus and see if it there are any blockages (that one hurt effing bad) all between July and January. I started Clomid in November, a hormonal pill to induce egg production. We did two rounds, with no luck. By this point I was frustrated and crying every time I got my period and it was taking a toll on our relationship. Every period felt like a loss. Between being sad a lot of the time, losing drive to help out around the house, and not talking about how I was feeling with Cam, we struggled. We had some long conversations, and what I was reading as him not caring, was him trying to be strong for both of us. We have gone to couples counseling previously so we were able to use tools from that to help us through this. I asked to be referred to a fertility clinic. My OB prescribed me one more round of clomid and sent us on our way to our local fertility clinic. Even though I had specifically asked for one more round of clomid, I didn’t end up taking it. After such a long period of time of scheduling intercourse...it was taking a negative toll on our relationship. We took a one month break from trying before seeing the specialist. Before we could go to our first appointment, Cam had to go get tested. He was bizarrely excited to go and bragged to his friends that he was going to the “spank bank.” LOL His results came back great and we were ready to get started on our fertility treatment plan. Our doctor is great, we were pretty positive about our chances of conceiving and laid out a plan for the next few months. He also explained why exactly we were having trouble...which I had never really received a clear answer from my OB so I didn’t know it was even figured out! I have PCOS which is commonly misdiagnosed as Endometriosis. I have acne, struggle with weight gain, have irregular periods, and I don’t always release fully developed eggs or an egg at all (hence 58 day cycle). My cysts were being caused by underdeveloped eggs essentially burying themselves in my ovaries. For the next 3 months I would take Femara (another fertility drug). The first month we would try on our own, the next two would be with intrauterine insemination, or IUI. The doctor seemed very confident that we would be able to conceive on the first try. We left feeling confident and with lots of fun paperwork outlining our instructions. -Take Femara as prescribed on days 3-7 of your cycle -Have intercourse on day 10 or 11 -Abstain until you see a surge on an ovulation test -Take ovulation tests days 12-15 -Have intercourse every 36 hrs once you surge - If you do not surge, call the office Romantic, right? We got to day 13 and I was getting nervous. What if we missed it? What if my surge doesn’t read? Did I do this round of Femara for nothing? Cam called the fertility clinic, they told us to go ahead and start trying every 36 hours, and continue testing. Day 16 came and I still hadn’t had a surge, I called in and they told me to come to the office that morning for an ultrasound. The tech said I had “a very good looking egg ready to release any day now.” Perfect! I went in for another progesterone test the following week and it was higher than it ever had been before! This is the month, it had to be, everything was looking good! 11 days later my period started. I was crushed again, but I didn’t cry much this time. I don’t know how to explain exactly how I felt. All I know is this meant we were done trying on our own. It was the end of the road for conceiving even a little bit naturally. We were one step closer to IVF, or surgery, or adoption. Don’t get me wrong, we’re open to all of those, and want to adopt in the future regardless. But not yet, I want this.

[bts-reacts]

Where I've Been the Past Couple Days

Hello guys! Now I don't post too many personal things here, but this is something I didn't know and it almost cost my life

As a young woman, I thought UTIs were something that was very common among girls my age because we don't quite know how to take care of our "down there" hygiene, don't know how to clean up after sex, etc. Well turns out I was wrong. If you let a UTI go on for too long it can make the infection spread to higher places like your bladder or your kidneys. Fun fact: the infection can spread to other places like your lungs 🙃

Because I didn't think a uti was a big deal, I let it go on for 2 weeks, had the infection spread, spent the past 3 days in the ICU, and during my initial visit to the er I actually passed out and was unresponsive enough for them to call a code on me.

So yeah kids. If something seems minor and like you can take care of it at home, go to the doctor in case because it could be a major infection that will cause you hell 🙃🙃

This has been my public service announcement

~Admin Red

***EDIT

I was discharged this morning so I'm perfectly fine now! I just figured I should get that out there because no one ever told me that a UTI could result in things like that, so I figured I would try to help anyone else who gets them regularly like I do to realize the dangers of them. Part of my condition was an allergic reaction to some medicine I was taking as well so it was just two "minor" things that resulted in me almost... Well ya know. I didn't know how serious my situation was until I was discharged and my mom told me what happened the first night I was there because all I remember about that night was arriving in the hospital and passing out after about an hour. The rest is a blur, I don't even remember the pain of getting three IVs injected into my arms and one into my neck.

I am kind of grateful for this situation happening because it will help me improve as a writer for certain experiences because I went through it.

BONUS: I sassed the doctors the whole fucking time tho. I might have been dying but I do remember sassing the doctor when she said she had to put an IV in my neck, when I literally filled an entire vomit bag, and when I was getting transferred to ICU. I don't remember the pain of being stuck but I remember a nurse tilting my bed upside down and wiping my neck off. When I asked if she was putting an IV in and she said yes I go "oh yaaaaaaaaay." Even on death's door ya girl still jokes✌️

***EDIT 2

They found a 1-1.5 cm cyst on my left ovary while I was in the hospital and they asked me to get it checked up on. For those of you who don’t know, many young women get one during their “time of the month” due to the weird up and down hormones young women get. Anyway, because I was on my time atm when they first found it, they scheduled an ultrasound to see if it was still there when I wasn’t during that time. I still have it. I’ve been told it’s not something extremely serious to be worried about, but it could be the reason for my sudden weight gain last year. I kept a steady weight for most of my life, only losing 3 lbs when I tried to lose weight, and suddenly I gained 30 lbs within 6 months without majorly changing my diet or workout routine. Initially I thought it was from my hypothyroidism, but ovarian cysts can also cause that. I’ll try to keep y’all updated on my health because damn has it gone downhill over the past couple years.

***EDIT 3

I have had two different appointments with a gynecologist since then and the cyst is still on my ovary. They had a hard time finding the right one to check if there was one there, but we still know that it’s on my left. My first appointment, I got the ultrasound because apparently we need to test something 3 different times to see if it’s there even though it’s been there every time we’ve tested but was unable to talk to the doctor because some lady started having her baby. During the next appointment he said that it’s still there so I am now going to be on two birth controls, one for birth control purposes and one for fixing cyst purposes. I was told to call him if the pain from the cyst ever gets any worse. I’ve only been on medicine for almost two months, but I feel like I should call the doctor. I’ve gotten my period, including what started today AFTER IT ENDED LAST WEEK, 4 times since I started my medicine. It happens every other week for about 5 days and the pain on my left side is slowly getting worse every time.

On a bright note I haven’t had a single hint of a uti since I went into the hospital and actually take care of myself now.

[jixiani]

I’m Fat and that’s OK.

Several years ago I restricted my caloric intake to a point that I gave myself gallstones. I’ve had disordered eating since I was young, as happens when you grow up fat. I remember dieting when I was in middle school, joining gyms with my mom and aunt in sixth grade, eating nothing but a glass of milk and an apple until dinner in an attempt to be acceptable to the kids that teased me. I’ve dieted, tried exercise routines that I took too far because I’m super competitive and obsessive, counted calories and ended up memorizing caloric content of certain foods. I got helpful advice from people that cared about me: drink a glass of water before every meal (which turned into only drinking a glass of water instead of eating a meal), eat less, substitute celery for a snack, dance while standing in line to burn extra calories...I spent a good year as a middle schooler doing the Slimfast thing, or using the same concept but with milk when we couldn’t afford actual diet drinks. I spent my entire high school career never eating lunch, only occasionally snatching fries from my friends or skipping lunch to go to an elective with them followed by a few times a year staying after school for stage crew and conveniently not eating dinner either. I was always fat. I was nicknamed Miss Piggy in grade school, tormented by bullies, left out, beaten up a few times. Once one of the boys threw a bottle of glue at me so hard that I had a bruise the size of a melon on my hip for a month, coincidentally on the same side I get ovarian cysts, I’m sure it has nothing to do with that...When I almost died of Salmonella at ten I was happy not that I had survived but that I had lost thirty pounds. I alternated not eating anything with binging on junk food. Still to this day if I can’t bring myself to eat anything else I know I can eat ice cream or some sort of fried potato or chocolate. The summer before my senior year of high school I rode my bike eight miles every day it wasn’t raining. Sometimes I rode twice that. I rarely brought water with me, it was summer but I figured that it just meant I would lose weight faster. I did lose weight, I dropped five or six dress sizes and suddenly I was acceptable, I was cool, I was desirable. I was also terribly damaged and needy and threw myself into a series of really bad decisions and relationships because I had zero self esteem. I eventually gained all the weight back. In college I almost fainted during a theater rehearsal and was forced to eat a bag of pretzels, it was the only thing I had eaten that day because I had been busy. I learned that I could replace a meal with a candy bar, something to keep my sugar up. I can’t stand people seeing me eat, I would buy things out of the vending machines and hide in little used spaces and eat my candy bar or poptart. Under the stairs, in the garden, in the basement break room...I knew where all the vending machines were and would avoid them if there was someone else there. I kept dieting, I downloaded apps to help track calories and exercises. The machines at the gym gave read outs of how many calories burned. I was congratulated on every bit I lost, every hour spent at the gym, I fed on praise instead of food. My app said I could have 3000 calories, I barely ate 1200 on a regular basis and that was when I was actively trying. But then I’d look at that 1200 and think, I can do better. The hours of exercise built up and I competed with myself to see how little calories I could log. Each teaspoon of sugar is 15 calories (I didn’t have to look that up, I’ll probably remember it when I’ve forgotten my own name), milk is 125 but black coffee is almost nothing, celery is also almost nothing. 1000, 900, 800...the human body burns something like 800 calories just to keep you alive, so if I eat less than that I’m bound to lose weight, right? Well, yes, I did. After a few months of that I had lost a lot of muscle, my body burning itself up to keep me moving, out of breath walking up stairs, obviously I was out of shape despite the diet and exercise…See, when you’re skinny and you do this, people worry about you and you have an eating disorder, but when you’re fat every pound and inch lost is a victory. According to a doctor I was seeing around that time “Fat people don’t have eating disorders.” I was seeing them because I started having gallstone attacks, I had no insurance and couldn’t afford the surgery, they suggested that I “Just stop eating McDonalds” I insisted that I didn’t eat McDonalds, that I didn’t actually eat much of anything, that I had cut out junk food, that I was dieting, that I thought that maybe I was dieting too much and had a problem. This was met with skepticism and I was told that if that was true then I should keep up the good work. For the first time in all my turbulent history with food I was actually afraid of eating. The wrong food or food at the wrong time resulted in pain. Not eating had also resulted in pain. I had done this to myself, I gave myself permission to eat but I was terrified of putting food in my mouth. Finally after twenty one attacks, some lasting over 9 hours I went to the ER. I was developing jaundice, they gave me the option of surgery. It was elective, they were very clear on that, I could go home, of course I might need a new liver, but it was my choice.

After that I stopped dieting. I eat junk food, I eat good food, I eat because I enjoy it, I walk, again because I enjoy it. I gain weight, I lose weight, I have stretch marks, I still remember calories and I despise that everything has calories on the label now. I’ve gone to therapy, I found out why I am obsessive and restrictive (obsessive compulsive personality disorder) and have tools to help. I still sometimes survive on poptarts although that’s being poor/convenience/I genuinely like them not because I’m afraid that people will see me eat real food. I eat salad because I like vegetables almost as much as chocolate not because I’m supposed to in order to be seen as a “good” fat person. I eat fast food and chips and give zero fucks what someone might say about it and know that I’m allowed to eat what I want, just not to over do it. I am still self conscious, I still worry about whether someone will find me attractive, I still have days where nothing fits right and even my own skin feels wrong and I probably always will. To be fair, I had those days when I was a size 12 too. I found doctors that don’t harp on my BMI (which is a bullshit measure, how could I have the same BMI when I was a size 18 as when I was a size 12 and you could count every rib and take out an eye with my hip bone?), I’m not looking forward to finding new ones but hopefully I can find one that won’t try to make me lose weight before treating my strep throat (totally something that happened).

But the thing is, I work with a lot of women and they are always comparing diets. They eat their salads and talk about how much they hurt from the gym and how no, they can’t have that bread it’s all carbs. And I have a few girls (it’s always the girls) who come through my lunch line and ask for sandwiches without bread because they’re trying to lose weight (although I would have sold both my arms to be as skinny as them when I was their age) and I just want to shake them. I want to tell them about how I starved myself for most of my life, how I hid in my bedroom to eat and hated every moment that I ate with other people and never wanted to be the first in line for food, how I made myself sick and how I’m probably heavier because my body wants to hold on to every calorie I begrudgingly gave it. How those “Recommended daily calorie intake” things are low balled and growing kids should be getting more like 3000-3500 calories a day and the unknown damage I’ve done to myself by only getting half that for most of my life. I want to tear down the whole system that makes money off making us feel bad about ourselves and assure them that none of it matters, that you only have one body and one life and you can’t put off living until you reach some unattainable and unsustainable goal. I want to rip those little signs off everything that says how many calories are in things because it has taken me YEARS of purposefully ignoring them before I can eat things without thinking of how many hours I’d have to be on an elliptical to justify eating something. Because there are little girls looking at themselves in mirrors and hating themselves, because there are women that are painfully aware of how many calories are in those things and don’t need a little sign to remind them, because there are women that are still waiting to be thin enough to love themselves and do all the things they want to do but don’t think they can because they’re too fat. Because there are doctors that would rather we die while they treat our fat instead of our illness. Because fat is the worst thing you can be when there are so many worse things. Because you can’t hate yourself into someone you can love. Because the things we pick up from the world around us and the scars that are left from cruel classmates and behaviors that we develop are insidious and last a lifetime and I’m still self conscious about the way I look. No assurances that “a few hundred years ago, yours was the ideal body type” or “boys may not want to date you now, but someday men will want to marry you” or “Real girls have curves” (which excuse me, but all girls are real girls, curves or lack thereof notwithstanding), or encouraging words from lovers will ever change or erase that damage. I still have bad days. I read something in a story the other day about a chubby, older woman from the male character’s point of view and how he liked the way she looked and I realized that I had never considered that someone could be attracted to me. I always figured that people liked me despite my weight, or that they might like it but in a probably creepy, chubby chaser sort of way. It hadn’t occurred to me that my weight might not even be a factor, or that I might be beautiful (I’ve been told I was, but figured that people are just being nice or just saying that because they wanted something) I had honestly thought that everyone I have ever interacted with just put up with my weight or were willing to overlook it. I had to close my kindle app for a while, I couldn’t process anymore of the story because I had been struck momentarily dumb but the realization that people may well find me attractive. It’s incredibly hard to get past those hang ups but I’m getting better and I want everyone else to get better too.    

[icequeen-shiva]

what i need to say to you, as a fat girl.

i’m going to put it under a cut, not because i’m embarrassed but because i know i’m going to get longwinded and i know some people won’t appreciate a gigantic, lengthy post clogging up their dash. and i get that! that’s me sometimes too. it’s cool, fam. it’s... it’s a damn novel. i’m not going to lie. i’m sorry it got so long. there’s a lot of history. but i don’t know how else to make it so clear and understandable without going deep. everything in here is exactly what i want known. so... yeah, it’s long.

i just had my yearly gynecological appoint a week ago. she stressed to me that she couldn't be happier with me, even with my weight. my blood work was, she called it, wonderful. my levels are good! i’m not even close enough to pre-diabetic that she felt a need to caution me. i’m healthy, according to my blood, she said. keep doing what i’m doing, she said, based on science and my blood, not my stomach, where all my weight seems to go. i am blessed that my doctor is kind. she knows that i, and others like me, am doing the best i can to find more healthy and nutritional things that work for me (and while i won’t go into it here, i will say that i have a fucked up home life that doesn’t make it easy). she knows pcos is fighting me every step of the way on losing weight. but she is proud of me and supports me and when she wants to talk about my weight, that is how she addresses it: with positive suggestions, not shaming me, not guilting me into feeling like i’ve done this wrong and disappointed everyone.

yes, i could exercise more. i’m not in shape, but the tests come back that, overall, i’m healthy, but that doesn’t seem to matter, because i’m still fat.

it shouldn’t be this hard to write. i shouldn’t be crying while i write this, but it’s been beaten into me (not literally) since i was a child that i’m not worth it if i’m fat. i went from kindergarten through eighth grade to a very small school (at its largest while i went there, my class had 36 people total) and i lived on the very edge of the district. if a friend wanted to do anything, we had to coordinate with our parents who was going where, whose parents were driving and what time would we get together, what time would someone need picked up, etc. and i was fat. i’ve been overweight since the day i was born, coming out at 10 pounds. i wasn’t into sports, which was absolutely what this school put almost all of its focus on. i was into art, which was the last thing this school put its focus on. i was quiet, i didn’t live in town, i didn’t want to play kickball or basketball at recess, i wanted to sit on the swings and draw. i was the weird kid, and i also happened to be the fat kid in my grade. the only fat kid. so i was an undesirable, and i just... got used to it. i will never forget how sick i felt in seventh grade, in the girls’ locker room after gym one day, when one of the thinnest girls was almost crying about her reflection and how fat she looked. i felt terrible for her, because if she really believed that then that girl needed help, but i also felt absolutely sick and knew i wanted to be annnywhere else but that school with these girls. i was lucky enough that my mom finally agreed to let me go to the school just a hop over the district line for high school. i met the best friend i’ve ever had in my whole life. i met other fat kids. i won the art club scholarship when i was a senior. my entire social existence was not predicated on “she doesn’t live here, she’s an oddball, and she’s fat” for the first fucking time.

but i was still fat in high school, and still pretty weird, i won’t lie, so i was still not the girl asked to any dances. i was never invited to any parties. i’m lucky that i wasn’t bullied for my fatness. a couple underclassmen punks behind me in the hallway tried one time, but at this point, i had perfected my glare and intimidation voice, so when i stopped, turned around, glared, and dared them to say that one more time, they didn’t. i was picked on for my goth aesthetic more than i was my weight, and that was fine. it wasn’t my weight, so i could live with it. i had my friends, i had my art classes, i had english and history where the teachers loved me and how good i was at these subjects. but i never had a date. i never had a first kiss. i never had any of this. i was fat, and i was weird. i’m not blaming it all on my physical appearance. everyone is embarrassingly weird as a teenager, i think, and if you weren’t then you’re lying.

for varying reasons, i didn’t get to go away for college. i went where my parents demanded i go, to a community branch of ohio state, with looming promises of “oh, you can transfer to columbus in a year or two, it’ll be fine” that ended up never happening. it was just like high school all over again. it was so small, and so limited, and so full of the same kind of people i’d been with the last four years already. i was still the fat weird girl. i grew into both of these. i learned to carry them each much better, i started taking theatre classes and auditioning for the plays, i even got the fucking lead in a one season. i was antigone, and i was, for the first time, excited about myself.

it didn’t last, though. the theater kids were, contrary to how they’re depicted so often and what other people’s stories have been, mean. so i left it. i never acted on that campus again. and it hurt like a motherfucker when i reminded myself that i gave up like that. but it was easier to do that. it was easier to take myself out of the spotlight than it was to constantly fight and defend my right to have it just like anyone else. now... there’s a lot of other issues in my life, that i’m not willing to address right now. all of my friends moved a few hours away from me. i’m not exaggerating, though i wish i was. i never ended up leaving. i dropped out of college when my depression was spiraling out of control and i wasn’t reeeeally functioning at all. i still live at home, in this close-minded, rural, midwestern place, because i’m terrified of leaving my mother with her depression that’s much worse than mine has ever been and i have no one in this area at all that i trust enough to be roommates with, and i can’t afford living on my own without that crutch. that’s as far as i’m willing to go. but this-- leaving acting, that i had loved so much-- was really a tipping point into the depression i have struggled with for almost my entire adult life.

and that depression and continued social rejection has really drummed in further i am fat. i have no hope of anyone ever thinking i’m beautiful. no one will ever really be attracted to me. i can fix my face with makeup but i cannot hide my gut, and that will repulse them.

i’m 28 years old and still-- fucking still-- the only time i’ve ever been shown romantic interest, was a joke. the only time someone has ever given me their phone number was a goddamn joke. it was at a restaurant, where i wasn’t afraid to order what i wanted and enjoy eating it, and i probably looked like a pig. i like food. we kind of need it to survive, and if i’m going to a restaurant with my friends, i’m going to get what i want, what sounds good, and enjoy myself with my friends, not get only a small salad because i have to watch my weight and i have to look like the meek, ashamed fat girl who’s trying to do better. i don’t have to look like anything, for anyone. but for a long time after i realized that number was a joke, i stopped doing all of that. i’d barely eat when we went out. i’d cry about it in the bathroom. i’d cry about it in bed. i cried a lot. and i hated myself. i’ve somehow managed to mostly overcome that. but it’s been hard, and let me repeat: i can only say mostly.

so what i really, really need you to know, and this is directed to the tickle community more than it is anyone else right now... this is why, if/when i get suddenly upset about belly tickles; if/when i get very quiet and withdrawn, when my dash is flooded with “ideal” bodies with their cute bellies getting tickled; if/when i get very feet-centric again because, after over a decade of navigating through my kink preferences and finding a place in this community, i’ve convinced myself over and over again that “if you keep it focused on your feet, they won’t notice that you’re fat.” which is ridiculous because in online play, nobody has to know that if i don’t say anything. but i will know. i will always know, when i present myself in rp as some small, cute, only a little bit chubby girl, that i’m lying.

it’s so hard being fat in such a physical kink. so fucking hard. even the plus size girls in the videos don’t look like me. it’s incredibly appreciated, don’t get me wrong, and it’s... it’s not even that i’m ~so big. i don’t look as heavy as i am. i’ve been accused of looking for attention and saying i’m heavier than i really am, when i try to be honest about how much the scale says (which honestly just makes me incredibly paranoid that maybe i have some giant cyst(s) on my ovaries that’s distending everything and heavy af with a bunch of fluid and crap, as is the hallmark symptom of polycystic ovarian syndrome, but that’s another essay). but it’s heavy enough to bother me. and that just gets problematic, because it’s not right of me to think “well, at least i’m not that size,” because the girl that size is having the same struggles as i am, probably. 

there’s literally one person i’ve ever spoken to that has told me, and i believe truthfully, they think i’m cute and that i’m worth it. and they live in england, thousands of miles away. and he wasn’t a “chubby chaser,” and i truly believe he wasn’t saying it out of pity. he meant it. but he’s the definition of unattainable.

i need you to understand that you need to be patient with me, if we’re really going to play, because the hardest thing i can do is accept that you don’t think i’m disgusting. because at the end of the day, i can be as confident in my personality and my intelligence and my skills as possible, but i will still look down at my stomach, hanging over the waistband of my pj shorts, and i will still think this is disgusting and it’s no wonder i’m alone.