#ideservedbetter

[crayons-cats-chaos]

TW: Religious Abuse-Two True Trauma Dumps

So. Following some of the rules I had to maintain, here comes some vivid memories I have of my abuse. Note that these are only a couple of fucked up moments and that I have severe memory loss when it comes to my childhood, so some details maybe murky. 1) I was...oh I don't know...maybe 9? And everyone that was in charge of everything at the church (including my dad-he was in charge of the childrens activities for a while) discovered that I had a wonderful singing voice (I think its alright, they were mystified though). I was recruited to sing for EVERYTHING. I had to sit through hours of boring sermons just to sing a 2 minute song and not get home into bed until 10-11 pm (I was NINE and I had to be up for the bus at 6). Every single event I had to be ready to sing. It was expected. I had to use my wonderful vocal cords for G O D. Even if I was sick. One particular Christmas, we were doing our little play in which the adults and children all participated together. I was Gabriel. The night of the show, I was so SO sick. I had a fever that was making me hallucinate like I was in a dream and my voice was SHOT. I couldn't hit the high notes of my solo. Normally, you'd have a stand in. You'd figure SOMETHING out. And they did. But instead of me sitting this one out, I had to still be on FULL DISPLAY. I stood silently in my costume under painful spotlights while a ton of people gawked at me and an adult sung my solo. I literally just S T O O D there. I was SO uncomfortable. Then, I had to continue to be on stage the rest of the show. I was barely holding on by the time it was over, but no no no, I couldn't rest. I had to mingle for the after show refreshments. 2) Here it comes; the fun fucked up Baptism story that most of us abuse survivors have. To lead up to the event, I had to do "classes" with the Pastor. I was 7-8 at the time and it was expected, but I was CURIOUS. Thankfully, the Pastor was NOT a ped. He was, however, the "you must have blind faith" person. He did not like that I asked practical questions, and every time I did he would just say something to the extent of "because that's just how it is and that's how you avoid Hell". Anyway, I did my "classes" once a week for 6 weeks and was QUIZZED to make sure I was worthy of Baptism. Fucking Q U I Z Z E D guys. I passed, of course, because I knew the Bible by heart like a good little brainwashed muffin. So, the event was scheduled. I had all kinds of rules. I can't remember them all, but I do know I had to wear a white dress. It was non-negotiable. The pool was about 3 ft deep and I was walked into freezing cold water with a whole congregation watching me (they really liked to put me on display, and this was a big moment considering I was the "golden child" so a lot of people came just to see this) and was instructed to plug my nose with zero time to follow the command. I was dunked in the ice water once, twice, three times for the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. When I was allowed to get out of the water, there was no towel waiting for me. I had to stand, climb the stairs, and walk off of the stage with my WHITE GOWN clinging to my little child body. I don't know if there were peds in the audience, but its Christianity, so lets assume I was putting on a show. I was so cold and shivering, but I was not allowed to leave the stage until a prayer was spoken over me. Finally, when I was allowed to go and dry off, I was led into a room that was NOT a bathroom. It had HUGE OPEN WINDOWS and I was expected to get completely naked, dry off, and get re-dressed. I was NOT being watched, thankfully, but that does not take away the overwhelming feeling of vulnerability I was forced to feel at such a young age. I have so many more, but these are two of them that live rent free at the top of my brain....

[witchee1014]

#narcissticabusesurvivor #Ideservedbetter #leveledup https://www.instagram.com/p/CLGDOV4FUXG/?igshid=wcunbvwuaf3v

[scarlettjedi]

#ideservedbetter https://www.instagram.com/p/CDxOy05A8eY/?igshid=7ifr0ku7x2k0

[leza05]

My favorites after wine tasting .. making new memories & being happy & me again #cabistylewithleza #iamgnv #downtown #downtowngainesvillefl #dragonflysushigainesville #gainesvillefl #gainesvilleflorida #florida #selfcare #startingover #beinghappy #newmemories #deservedbetter #ideservedbetter #iamloved #movingforward #bulliesareinsecure #rotary #chamber #bestofgainesville #startupgnv #mytime #breathingagain #hope #love #free #safe #resilience #resilient (at Dragonfly Sushi & Sake Company) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4L3_5HhfHX/?igshid=eoj3ap03ccxl

[xxinayxx]

PLL FINALE

Thoughts on the last episode. They clearly could've done better. Felt like a last minute conclusion. I wish it would've been someone we knew from past seasons. Marlene you could've done better.

[guccimedusa]

i was tagged by @concerned-about-crows a while ago take make my picrew

i tag: @kazumakittyu @kanshou-bakuya @dategummies @breezeinmonochromenight @jason-ideservedbetter-todd @actualalbionqueen @avenger-sakura @scarlethyena and anyone else who wants to do it

here’s the link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/9889

[mileena--kahnumm]

I was tagged by @manilla-road

Rules: name your top 10 favorite characters from 10 different fandoms and then tag 10 people.

1. Mileena (Mortal Kombat) I mean pretty obvious...

2. DOOMGuy (DOOM)

3. Caleb (BLOOD, BLOOD 2 The Chosen)

4. Claire Redfield (Resident Evil Series)

5. Arthur Morgan (Red Dead Redemption 2)

6. Widowmaker (Overwatch)

7. Rebecca Lee "Revy" "Revy Two Hands"

(Black Lagoon)

8. Guts (Berserk)

9. DeadPool "Wade Wilson" (MARVEL)

10. Dante (Devil May Cry Series) excluding

"Donte" from DMC 2013 Reboot

I tag @dosgamer000 @myfriendgoo94 @theoracleofllaena @resievilchic96 @superbeagledinosaur @uniquely-waffles @duwango @albierio @tomura-apologist @jason-ideservedbetter-todd

[riverfaairy]

That feeling when you finally leave the person who has been so toxic to you>>

[sevi007]

la-vita replied to your post :                    jason-ideservedbetter-todd replied to your post :...                

   Tracing the entire image can help too. Tracing something again and again and if you after a while draw that image free handedly it will look already much better than just drawing the image free handedly right away. Through repeated tracing the brain remembers certain lines and shapes and it will be easier for you to do those once you stop tracing. That’s how I learned doing portraits :)    @la-vita

Aaaah, so you’re, like, training your hand and mind to remember the lines and shapes. Memorizing through copying and repeating!

Okay, will definitely try that out at some point, maybe that will help me. Thanks to you, too, vita <3

[sevi007]

jason-ideservedbetter-todd replied to your post :                    My drawing practice in general is me just...                

   Also, something that has helped me is tracing. I don’t trace the image itself, I just do like a line skeleton to get the pose down. It helps with getting used to the feel of proportions and anatomy. I never post them, but it certainly helps    @jason-ideservedbetter-todd Tracing... as in, tracing the lines of the reference, or the skeleton of the reference, as you said, yes? I’ve never done that before, I should definitely try it! Maybe it will help me memorize how the thing ”looks” a bit more, for the future.Thank you very much! =D  

[bookobsession18]

Let's be real, you're never going to get anyone as good as me 💁

[velvettopato]

pssh~~ tsk so quick to "like" for what?! just becos she showed some boobies.... so fickle minded augh~

[phronesist]

I'll bet you thought I wouldn't move on if you kept treating me like crap.   Guess what. I did.  

[emmy-nguyen-blog]

What Love Shouldn't Feel Like

Love shouldn’t feel circumstantial. It shouldn’t feel as if I love you more than you love me or vice versa. There shouldn’t be conditions, levels or lesser degrees of love. If there are then whatever you’re feeling is something else. Maybe lust, maybe like, maybe comfort – but certainly not love. The effort shouldn’t be one-sided; all of the little things can’t come from one contributor; and if you hurt, your companion should as well.

Love shouldn’t make someone feel like a bother. We shouldn’t be able to empathize with a pesky gnat at a picnic, being shooed away. Love shouldn’t be treated like hard labor, and it shouldn’t feel like it either. It shouldn’t make us sad more often than happy, or lead to bad times outweighing the good.

Love shouldn’t consist of waiting around to hear from the person you care infinitely about. That’s the worst. Sitting by your phone, waiting on pins and needles for something – anything from them. The phone might vibrate, but it’s beyond disappointing when it turns out to be a text from somebody else. It aches your heart to know that they’re somewhere out there, completely unfazed by your absence. We can convince ourselves that the subpar phone service failed to deliver our lover’s text, or prevented their call – but we know the chances of that are slim. And sure, we could just contact them, but when you initiate conversations regularly, it’d be nice to have that attention reciprocated. Love shouldn’t feel like being wide-awake until 3am; wishing, hoping, praying for a measly phone call from the one you adore.

Love shouldn’t keep notes on every blunder ever made. When a mistake occurs, retaliation should never be a thought. The pain felt by your companion’s mistake shouldn’t make you want to get even. If you know how much it hurt you, why would you want the one you love to experience that same agony? Those feelings are poisonous. A desire to exact revenge or document every error is a surefire sign that you’re involved in something other than love. Instead you’ve got yourself a contaminated, breakable link that the Grim Reaper of Love is ominously stalking – preparing for its imminent death.

Love shouldn’t feel like uncertainty. It shouldn’t feel like a battle. It shouldn’t feel like a tug of war, with two people trying to make the other “love” them more. Maybe you’ve mistaken your physical infatuation, or crush at a time of vulnerability for love. Those things are flimsy. Those feelings are fragile. The first storm will either demolish those relationships, or leave enough water damage to rust and wither them away.

Love shouldn’t feel hopeless, because it’s never is. In love, a pair can be down, but never knocked out. Love should make all things possible, even if they aren’t necessarily looking good today.  If I love you and you love me,we will prevail – but if we don’t, we won’t. Love shouldn’t feel like we won’t.

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/what-love-shouldnt-feel-like/

[emmy-nguyen-blog]

You Don't Deserve Me

I don’t believe in “leagues” when it comes to dating, because they are petty. I don’t believe people can be categorized and sorted in that way — put into different tiers of inherent good or bad — particularly based on something as fleeting and superficial as looks. If someone tells me that someone else is out of their league, I’ll usually laugh and tell them they’re being silly. But it’s a true shame that we actually think in these terms, and allow them to define what we think we should be going after in life.

I guess I’m lucky, in that I was always raised to believe I deserved the best. I wasn’t a daddy’s girl or a spoiled litle princess by any means, but I was raised to see that a woman is capable and deserving of all the great things that a man can achieve, and that she should never wait around for someone to come and tell her what kind of a person she is. She can write her own story, and decide her own fate. I never felt as though being with someone would make me any better or worse in terms of my inherent value.

The world around me has not always agreed. I have looked at billboards and magazines since I was a little girl and been told, like the rest of us, that I fit in somewhere on a scale. Maybe if I bought this mascara or that diet drink or this dress, I would be a little higher up. But I would always have my place in things, have people and dreams and goals which were accessible to me based on how attractive and subservient and eager to please I was. No matter how much your mother is telling you at home “You can be anything you want,” it is hard to hear her over the sound of your entire culture saying “No, you can’t.”

And so, like many people, I accepted the love of people who were not what I would strive to be myself in life. I didn’t hold men to the same standards because I felt, on some level, that I was lucky to have someone interested in me. While I have always demanded professional dedication or neatness or politeness from myself, there are partners with whom I have completely excused the lack of all of these traits. When I felt that he was not acting like a grown-up, or being respectful to me, part of it was always my fault. It was always that I was too much of a demanding bitch, not enough of the caring woman who I should learn to be. After all, I wasn’t a model. I didn’t have a 24-inch waist. I was in no position to be making demands.

But one day I found myself in front of a text message that seemed to sum up exactly what I had been tolerating in the place of romance for so long. You said, “I got caught up. Sorry.” This was on the heels of almost two days of no communication, days which I would later discover had been filled with excursions with the ‘boys’ which involved a lot of drunken flirtation — and possibly more, but it doesn’t matter now — with other women. After my insane worry, my pathetic begging for you to get back to me, I was left with that slap in the face of a reply. Barely bothered to care, you put together what paltry justification you deemed necessary. No big deal, I wouldn’t care. I was lucky to have you.

I was not lucky to have you. I was not chosen by some divine spirit who looked past my physical flaws to gift me with your half-hearted attention. You were simply taking advantage of the fact that I cared too much, that I had been told for so long that any relationship was preferable to being alone. Perhaps the greatest gift I’ve ever given myself was leaving you that week. Though you put me through the ringer, tried to convince me that I was crazy for being hurt or suspicious, and even told me that I would never find someone like you again (why would I want to?), it is one of my favorite memories.

It is the moment I began to learn that there are people who deserve, and people who do not — and that it has nothing to do with some arbitrary concept of leagues. You do not deserve me because you are not a caring, loving person. You are not here to receive love, or grow from it, or give it in kind. You do not deserve me because I am beautiful in a way that a magazine would never photoshop and put on its cover. I am beautiful in the real way, the way that comes from being a person who is capable of empathy and compromise. I am beautiful because I work hard to be nice to other people, and to show them I love them. And sure, you may be good looking. You may be charming. You may have every superficial quality that our society is so quick to deem important. But you are not beautiful, and for that, you will never be deserving of someone like me. 

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/you-dont-deserve-me/