daffodil for Hinny :)
Hello love! I hope you like this!
daffodil (unequaled love) — “no one will ever come close to you.”
"And the mystery remains," Ginny continued reading. "Who is the mysterious woman? Has Mr. Potter left his wife for good? Can we really blame him? Only time will tell. Until next time, dear readers."
Harry snorted. "Skeeter's really outdone herself this time."
"But, Harry," Ginny said, flashing him the front cover of the Prophet. "What would your wife say? What if they reach out to her for a statement?"
He crossed his arms. "I imagine she'd be pretty upset."
Ginny clicked her tongue. "Or, you know, she might point out that this woman here in the black hoodie, you know, she's kinda the same build as your wife. And, uh, if look at the picture, those sweats are Harpies sweats. This person is definitely married, too, because there's a ring on their left hand." She shook her head. "I think you have a type."
"Oh, I definitely have a type," Harry said, bracing his hands on either arm of the recliner Ginny was sitting in.
"Your poor wife," she sighed.
"Oh, I'm sure she's just miserable over this article," he said.
"I'm sure," she said. "Poor thing."
Harry leaned in to kiss her then, but Ginny slapped his chest with the magazine.
"What do you think you're doing, sir?" she teased.
"Kissing my wife."
He did kiss her then, slow and sweet, his beard tickling her cheeks. Ginny slid her hand up the side of his neck and pressed herself upward.
"You know no one will ever come close to you, right?" he said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
"Good thing cause you're stuck with me for life," she said, dropping the magazine onto the table next to them. "And I may need a favor from the Head Auror when I hex my coworker into a coma."
Harry grinned and leaned down to kiss her again.
"Ew." Harry and Ginny broke apart to see their oldest son standing in the doorway to the living room rubbing his eyes. "Dad."
"Yeah, ew, Dad," Ginny said playfully.
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
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