In case you can’t tell, I’m passionate about rationality and critical thinking.

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Joined 1 year ago
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Cake day: September 22nd, 2024

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  • I’m so sorry that shit like that is still happening. As an (as-yet undiagnosed) autistic child, I was in the same boat. Bullies use their “strength in numbers” to have a gaggle of friends agree to lie against a lone victim, perhaps one who’s already known to struggle with emotional regulation. It’s nearly impossible to convince anyone of your innocence when other kids weaponize your weaknesses like that. Maybe you threw a chair against a wall in class one day, and now the school administrators are ready to believe that you’d escalate to actually attacking someone (even though you don’t have a history of hurting anyone. Just inanimate objects. Because believe it or not, some of us do have some degree of self-control.)

    I’ve been there, and I know what absolute bullshit is possible for someone like us. I’m livid on your behalf.







  • I love to make a positive impression on the world. I love to empower children, give comfort to those around me, to volunteer my energy and talents for a greater good.

    But in the back of my mind, sometimes there’s a little voice that reminds me, “Whatever good you put into the world, your mom can vicariously claim to have created. This will never not be true, because she is responsible for your existence.”

    And I hate it. I learned what not to be by observing her. I learned how hypocrites are able to function, how some people are able to override reality with their “feelings,” and how manipulators manage to get their way. Credit goes where it’s due, for sure, but she really shouldn’t be proud of the things she taught me. I became who I am in spite of her, not because of her.


  • I came to the same conclusion. I know how my mom reacts to news she doesn’t like - she defaults to denial. My memory has always been stronger than hers, so there’s no shortage of incidents that I remember, that she has long forgotten. (The tree remembers what the axe forgot, after all.) If I were to attempt to bring things up, she’d deny such things ever happened. Instead of me having catharsis and her having self-recognition, I’d be put in a defensive position and she’d say I’m exaggerating or making things up. Which is to say, attempting to have a serious talk with her always makes me feel worse.

    Thankfully, I have siblings, and they remember what our childhood was like. We have all given up on trying to get our mom to see the light. Instead, we have a secret group chat where we can vent as needed.






  • Going to school in NJ, I had a teacher whose first name was “Dawn” and she hated it. I didn’t understand, I thought it was a pretty name.

    But then I grew up, left the state, and wondered why everyone referred to the morning as “don.” That’s when it all clicked (or, you could say, it dawned on me.) Other states don’t pronounce the “aw” part, making “Dawn” and “Don” sound the same. In New Jersey, they are distinct. Now I see why having that name could be upsetting.