Sample special occasion speech for mother

Me [21 F] and my boyfriend [21 M] have known each other since high school. We just recently had a baby together and things have been pretty good considering that having a baby is extremely difficult for first time parents. Figuring out the dynamics and adjusting to a new human is unsurprisingly draining, but I do love it because I love my son. However, some issues that have been going on with my partner have been bothering me especially lately because I don’t think I addressed them while I was pregnant to not put stress on the baby while he was in my stomach, if that makes sense. I used to let tons of things slide. When I first found out I was pregnant it was around May. I had severe morning sickness and couldn’t work so he went to work at his regular job and another job to keep up with the rent and the car. It was a struggle with my mental health because I was always throwing up and angry because I was tired of it and couldn’t get relief. While you think he’d have patience for me because I was so sick, he absolutely did not. It was a situation where I was constantly trying to explain to him what I was going through and he just nodded said a few things that I might want to hear and kept going on with his day. He was annoyed I was in bed all day, annoyed I wouldn’t eat anything and went to the extent of telling me I was dramatic. I was too drained to argue so I let it slide. My birthday is in July and his in June so while I was almost at the peak of my sickness period we celebrated his birthday by going out with his siblings. Then, on my birthday he worked because he didn’t tell his jobs ahead of time that he couldn’t work so we did nothing for my birthday. I was alone in the dark room throwing up my guts for 12 hours while he was at work. I understood, I let him know about it being hurtful but I did kind of understand. It bothers me today but what can I do now that it’s over? Just remember it. Fast forward to me giving birth. We have two dogs at home who are crate trained so whenever we leave they sleep in the crate. We live an hour and a half away from the hospital I was giving birth at so while I was actively having contractions after being induced, he starts telling me about five hrs after having gotten back from the apartment to walk the dogs that he’s going to go again. However at this specific time he was saying that I was in a tremendous amount of pain, even with the epidural. I wasn’t hysterical but I was telling him to not leave me because what if I had the baby while he was gone. Then, he got mad at me and said I was being inconsiderate about the dogs because they needed to go to the bathroom but with perfect timing, the doctors came in and told me it was time to start pushing. I was upset he was just on his phone worried about the dogs while I was literally giving birth to our son and in pain, but all I could do is let him know it was pretty upsetting and let it go. Now, four months later I’m bothered because I was Mother’s Day, my first ever Mother’s Day and he didn’t give me a card, write me a letter, or even just sit with me and do an activity even though I reminded him about a week ahead of time. It’s just so much things that he does that make me feel he is insensitive and not really interested in making things special or taking the time to be comforting to me. His response is always “well I was going to do something but I didn’t have time” or “I’m sorry I forgot it’s because I really can’t take the day off for your birthday” or “well the dogs had to go to the bathroom what do you want me to do”. I love my dogs but because my family chose not to come and help me through the birth I couldn’t take the chance of giving birth alone in case something happened to me or my newborn. What should I do? I’ve had through discussions about this bothering me and I get the same lame excuse and even an attitude when I mention these things. It’s notable to say that I know he does love me. He does do things for me like cook and clean and obviously go to work but even after emphasizing that I do want special things he doesn’t do them.

-My husband & I have been together for 8yr. Below is a timeline of my MIL issues starting when we first began dating, to now, several years married.
Before meeting my now-husbands mother, VERY early on in our relationship and before we were even official, his mother requested to follow me on all my social media accounts. I had not met her at the time and found it way too soon & creepy. Even at this point I got the initial feeling she was the type who forces levels of intimacy that she has not made the effort to genuinely attain.
-In the beginning I did make a concerted effort w/ his family. I quickly learned his Mother asks v. intrusive questions. It’s clear her questions aren’t genuine, but for the sole purpose of having ‘intel’. As if it’s ’information gathering’ for her benefit.
-The 2nd time meeting his mother she immediately asked me what year my parents got married. I told her I wasn’t sure & she began asking me if I knew what decade.. followed by questions re: my mom’s birthdate. Then she told me what she really wanted to know was my mom’s age (always an ulterior motive..). She was beyond giddy to discover she was younger than my mom. I told her my mom was slightly older than some of my peers mothers bc she had a daughter (my sister) before I was born who passed away and she had trouble conceiving afterwards. His mom didn’t react or respond to this as she was still so giddy to over the fact she was younger than my mom. Red flag..
-In our early relationship my husband lived in a house w/ friends. He was 26. When we’d visit his family, his mom would always say he should move back home & save money. I found this odd behavior for a mother wanting their son to grow & flourish as an adult.
-After a year & a half dating we decide to move in together. My future MIL pulls me to the side for a 1 on 1 conversation & tells me if things don’t work out, don't worry, there’s always a way to break a lease & get out of it if things aren’t going well (why would things not go well…?). She begins quizzing me re: my prior relationships/ how they ended. Before going back to the topic of us moving in together & basically tells me she doesn’t approve.. generally makes me feel unacceptEd. I tell my now husband how uncomfortable this made me & he has a talk with her, she gaslights, tells him she feels she’s walking on eggshells w/ us & did nothing wrong, we are so sensitive, how she doesn’t do anything right.
-She begins incessantly planning get togethers with us, telling us she never gets to see us (when we visit 1-2x/month). We don’t even live in the same city. Not to mention we’re busy in our 20’s w/ friends & establishing our own lives. Every time she sees us she leads w/, ‘oh I’ve missed you sooo much. when did I see you last? Why has it been so long? I’m soooo happy to see you. (On & on, guilt trip behavior).
-Our first Christmas dating we spent w/ his family, the 2nd year w/ my family. When we told her we wojld spend the 2nd Christmas w/ my family she had a huge outburst, behaving super frantic/ triggered. We got upset and left shortly after. The following day I txted her we were upset she reacted to our plan that way, we spent the prior Christmas w/ them & it was our decision.. and moving forward we’d be splitting holidays. She played it off, said I wasn’t upset at all if you thought that I really wasn’t! I don’t think I came off like that, sorry if you felt that way, then she changed the subject. Once again gaslighting (this being the last time I confront her myself. My husband handles from here on out)
-She begins asking where I buy all my clothes. Nonstop questions ab my material possessions. Then starts going out and buying the same items for herself.
-She starts constantly telling my husband on the phone how she never sees him and making him feel guilty. When we see his parents 1-2 times a month.. and live 2 hrs away.
-Around this time, If I stated an opinion ab something (as in I would bring it up) she’d debate everything I would say as if I wasn’t allowed to have that opinion.
-Pulls me to the side of a party 1 on 1 & tells me in private ‘you’re so lucky to have my son, I just want you to know that you’re really lucky.. I hope you know it’ she wasn’t being nice when she said it.
-Around this time she tells us how my husbands sister is so sad that he (my husband) has a gf (me) but how she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Triangulating her 2 children, w/ the goal of wanting her son to feel guilt for being happy and in a successful relationship.
-Husbands mom starts getting jealous when we go on family beach trips w/ my family. We go for a week every year. She makes disapproving comments to us/ is generally unhappy her son is enjoying vacations.
-She starts making comments to now husband ab how I am closed off, crying to him about never seeing him and how he doesn’t make enough effort..
-Begins incessantly micromanaging my husband: texts him reminding him of this and that, tells him my (as in me…) birthday is X days away, to make sure to get me something, to get his sister something, reminding him he should ‘make plans with his dad soon or go see his dad soon’ or ‘have you called your sister recently? You need to call her it’s your job as a brother’
-Begins generally undermining how we live our lives, generally casting judgement on any and every decision we make.
-Around this time his sister who is only 2 years younger begins acting bratty- we give her furniture, tvs, clothing large items she says she wants and she is super ungrateful, complains about the items we give her, tells us they’re too heavy for her & that we need to carry it for her and put it In her house for her. Only calls or texts us when she needs something, wants advice, or wants to complain to us. Never any other times. It’s always all ab her.
-His sister then keeps our dog for us when we are out of town for a few days (which we were shocked her said yes). We stocked the fridge w/ 7 or so bottles of wine for her and made our home lovely/ special for her stay. Her new boyfriend even comes to stay with her (they both have roommates so this is a chance for the 2 of them to be alone). After our trip we were over the top grateful thanking her many times. She then pitches a fit to my now husband telling him we bought her cheap Trader Joe’s wine and that she can’t believe we didn’t bring her back a tshirt from our trip, complaining on and on yelling at him.
-my husband and I get engaged and his mom/sister begin trying to force get togethers, my husband sister begins asking me to go to workout classes, etc. which is v. Out of character. It continues & becomes apparent this is happening only bc we got engaged. It feels disgenuine as she never made efforts in the 5 years before we were engaged…
-My bridesmaids are my closest, nearest dearest friends who I’ve known for 10+ years. My husband’s sister cried when she found out she wasn’t a bridesmaid and started calling my husband weekly crying / begging him to be a bridesmaid. Then my MIL starts calling, telling him how disappointed she is. He tells his mother, I’m not sure why she’d expect to be a bridesmaid, she’s never made an effort, they aren’t close, she gets to select her closest friends to stand by her side. This has nothing to do with not liking or leaving anyone out on purpose. His mom cries, repeats how deeply disappointed she is, how wrong this is, etc. My husband tells his mother he plans to ask his dad to be his best man. Disclaimer: neither of my brothers were by husbands groomsmen, they couldn’t have cared less…
-My husband asks his father to be his best man. His father declines and says ‘no, not unless your sister can be a bridesmaid’………………….
-My MIL creates her own wedding hotel block for her friends and family, sending out a mass email to them. This is outside of the 4 hotel blocks we already have on our wedding website.
-I start hearing my MIL is saying to friends/family, ‘As long as my son is happy that’s all I care about, I just really hope that he is. All I can do is hope’ and telling people how devastated she is that her daughter isn’t a bridesmaid and how messed up and wrong it is and how weddings are a family celebration for the family. No one ever confronts me once about the bridesmaid situation.
-My husband ends up telling his mother to never mention the bridesmaid topic again, how he won’t tolerate it and is done hearing about it.
-We ask my SIL to give a reading at our wedding. Her response: ‘if I have to’. She is a pill our entire wedding, in almost every photo she is scowling.
-When we receive our wedding photos & upload online, my SIL/MIL text and ask me where all the photos of them are (there were plenty…). I told them I uploaded every photo our photographer sent. They told me this wasn’t true, were extremely disrespectful to me, basically told me I was lying when I wasn’t. I uploaded every single one. I even reached out to my photographer to ask if she’s deleted any of the photos before sending…
-My husband & I got into a disagreement with my SIL where we had a huge argument resulting in a 6 month period of no contact. This arises after we confronted her, calmly & maturely about an issue we had to which she cussed us out and called me every terrible curse word you can imagine. My husband was livid- told her she would not talk to/ab me that way & how childish she was behaving, how we should be able to confront her when we are upset about something she’s done, etc. After several months of no contact w/ my SIL, my MIL begins calling my husband saying: you ‘will/must’ resolve things w/ your sister. He says no & it’s not her business. My husbands father then calls him, clearly deployed by MIL (as he’s very chill/no-drama). The situation becomes even more stressful due to my MIL pressuring my husband re: a topic that doesn’t involve her. I too become stressed, seeing my in laws trying to control him. My in laws then have my SIL’s bf text my Husband saying, ‘I really hate seeing this for the family I want everyone to be ok’ (although once has my SIL attempted to reach out & apologize for calling me a bit** cu**, etc). When his attempt doesn’t work on my husband, my MIL then sends my husband & me a joint text message ab How she wouldn’t be intervening if her daughter could handle this on her own & how we need to fix it. My husband responds & tells his mom off, essentially saying: This isn’t your business. My wife is owed an apology, you guys also have never apologized for how horribly you treated us during our wedding.. the happiest time of our lives, a day we get to have exactly how WE want. My sister can handle her own problems she’s an adult, shes never going to learn bc you meddle in every problem she has bc you want things your way. Then when you don’t get what you want, you get everyone to do your dirty work for you in hopes you can bulldoze & get your way. You make everything ab you, what you want, when & how you want it. Those days are over (this is a summary of his response).
(hmm wonder why my SIL doesn’t know how to handle adversity, bc you handle everything for her even though she is an adult)
-SIL reaches out to my husband and says she wants to talk. He says no, you treated my wife poorly. You will reach out and apologize to her, not me. You won’t disrespect my wife. And she does do this although it takes her a week or so. And it did seem genuine.
-I think this all stems from drama my MIL creates, and when things don’t go her way she pulls others in to manipulate them & do her dirty work for her.
-husband and I lived 2 hours from his parents. We end up moving 10 hours away to create distance from his family. They disapprove and generally disapprove of any and every decision we make, as they don’t act with love and support our decisions as loving parents would.
-In laws announce they are starting an annual family vacation…to the private beach MY family has vacationed at since I was born (it’s not a mainstream location…it’s rather obscure). My in laws have never even been there before. I tell my husband I absolutely refuse to go & will not enable the intrusive/copying behavior.
-My husband & I take a trip just 2 of us. We stay in an airbnb. 3 months later his parents tell us they planned a trip to the same location for the 2 of them & they’d also found & booked the exact same airbnb we stayed at so they could experience the same exact trip my husband & I went on….
-Additional overstepping, intrusive, creepy behavior like above persists. They start buying many of the same exact material items, or furniture we own (obscure antiques, designer items, etc….), essentially copying everything we do. We want our own unique & individual things that make us, US. & it seems as if demand to show us they won’t allow us to have that for ourselves under and circumstance. Almost as if they aren’t entitled full access to our lives, so they will bulldoze and access our lives in their own ways to make them feel in control. This is my take.
-There’s no major animosity now but we have majorly pulled away from them. My husband calls his parents once a month or so. We now see them 3-4 times a year.
-Things will be nice & relaxing for a month or 2 then out of the blue my MIL will blow up out of nowhere calling my husband 8x in a row telling him he will speak to his mother he will do this and that. Often he simply ignores her or waits several days to respond. She likes to tell him ‘you need to call your father and speak with him’ ‘hey it’s dads birthday make sure do this and that’ (obviously we know when their birthdays are… we are pretty on top of things, still she cannot stand not being in control).
-MIL just flipped out on my husband for not calling her on Mother’s Day, though we send a gift, card, and send multiple texts first thing in the morning. My husband received multiple messages from his dad : why have you not called your mother??? Did you forget? Call your mother now. We’re skeptical the texts were actually from his dad..
-Although we’ve distanced ourselves, the every 2 mnth outbursts are exhausting. I am now 6 weeks pregnant. So excited! BUT Dreading telling them as I envision MIL & SIL making it all about them, freaking out ab how we aren’t involving them enough.. I imagine my MIL starting to disgeuninely call/text me constantly, demand to be involved at the level she expects & believes she deserves, will probably buy high chairs, cribs, etc for her own home.. and make it about her In any way possible.
Any advice on how to deal with a woman like this? I feel like I have to constantly prepare for her actions, outbursts, or things she might say. She’s draining, the pressure she puts on my husband is absurd, her expectations are outrageous, she’s judgmental and controlling, everything is about her, and she is emotionally immature in every way. I feel protective over my husband and our marriage and can’t stand them constant trying to order him around with their high expectations and demands. Help!

I apologize, the reason this is so long is because 1.) I suck at summarizing 2.) backstory of some sort is needed to understand this excuse of a man and/or human being. 3.) I’m not a good storyteller, but you are, Charlotte, and I know you can take this mess of info and turn it into a beautiful, long-time-coming, petty revenge story for your channel. Because what is more petty than an herbal, flowery Trojan horse no one knows about?
Cast: OP-me Swister- my older sister Mom - mine and my sister’s mom, grandmother to Trish/Patty BIL- exactly who it says, and a huge butthole. Patty/Trish - the same person, a four year old little girl, product of union between BIL and Swister.
Some (bit rambling to explain some stuff) backstory:
Last winter, to get out of the horrible, freezing, painfully striking sleet (it would not pass over our town, was just there, stuck in a vortex, for what seemed like eternity) of January in our hometown (we were always just a couple degrees away from it being snow, and quite a few times we got lots of hail, some as big as softballs, and could damage cars and punch through windshields, etc. I know this sounds like ‘The Long Winter’ by Laura Ingalls Wilder, but both me and my mom (I’m disabled and have to live with someone to help in every day life, I’m not a high school dropout living in mommy’s basement playing fortnight or assassin’s creed and have memorized cheat codes. The only video games I’ve ever played were duck hunt, which my grandpa actually got for himself bc he loved to hunt, so I only got to play it in turns with my five other cousins when we visited him); and N64’s Zelda:Ocarina of Time. I hope those titles illustrate for you the last time I played a video game. Oh! And the Oregon Trail, but I always died of some disease that doesn’t happen today or is curable with fluids, rest, and maybe some penicillin. But I digress.) but both me and my mom and my older sister (who was pregnant at the time) and BIL moved about 15 minutes down a little used two lane highway. And when my niece was born late 2019, we named her Patricia after my grandmother. (Patty or Trish for short).
My BIL claims he can smell everything ten times better than any other human, ‘probably because I’m an Alpha Male, and I need heightened senses to protect my pack, my family.’ Okay, I won’t deny he is sensitive to scent, but if his food doesn’t come out smelling right (almost always made special order bc of his ‘allergies’ (that’s what he tells the waitress; in reality, he just doesn’t want stuff he doesn’t like on his plate, and is too fucking lazy to just take the single pickle chip off the McDonald’s cheeseburger. If half of America can do it, why not him? ‘I might smell and taste it with my superhuman olfactory senses.’ He said with a very sincere, serious tone and face, like I was in special education and couldn’t understand it was 1,2,3, not 1,3,2. He is an arrogant misogynistic asshole. My sister could have done sooooooo much better. Idk y she chose him to marry (for a general idea of all what he looks like, speaks like, and sounds like (minus the slight lisp) is the video of the ‘dating coach’ who took the video in his car, opening it with ‘you do not have to accept her rejection, say things like I’m the best, why wouldn’t you want me, you should see my basement with ropes and pulleys and hooks, and do you know what a did with her that night? Well, it’s not appropriate to talk about on this platform”… yeah, that guy, except for the lisp, could be my BIL IDENTICAL twin. Anyway, now you know BIL is a creepy, asshole, bastard with no sense of boundaries or personal space, who think women are lesser than him. Moving on.
I also suffer from anxiety, insomnia, and a few other things that require me to take meds that can slow down your breathing, so if I can take care of my pain, anxiety, and insomnia without having to take a narcotic or benzo, and it works, I choose that path first. Some of these ways are ice packs, heating pads, a special herbal tea, aromatherapy, yoga, sleeping surrounded by pillows like I were in a nest, making sure to do a little bit of some exercise and always taking my daily walks (I don’t want the pain to get so bad from being sedentary I will require a wheelchair before I absolutely have to) and don’t always want to be popping clonapen or oxy or morphine all day and falling asleep, especially around my niece. I don’t want her to ever believe pills fix problems.
So to escape the horrible winter in our new home environment, my mom decided to use her saved-up reward points and book us all a ten day trip to Disney Aulani Hawaii, specifically Disney bc of my niece. My mom and I had been there before, in 2020, right when resorts opened back up at much less than capacity because of COVID rules, and we had gone for a week, so I knew they had an awesome spa I could spend my saved vacation money on.
The minute we step into our two bedroom, two full bath (each with both a shower and separate tubs!), an ok sized but capable kitchen, and a nice, big, comfy furniture filled common room/living room. All of my stuff I put in the room I’d be sharing with my mom, then took my niece to go and get her first Shirley Temple (they are a virgin cocktail I have loved as a kid, still do, that are super easy to make the ghetto way - diet 7up (diet taste better in the cocktail, idk why, it just the way the Gods have decreed it so), grenadine, and maraschino cherries (as many as you want, but kids usually get two and adults one. I think this is unfair) and tada! You have a Shirley Temple.
So I’m walking back to the room, both of us holding our reusable drink cups for our stay (if you bring the cup with you, you get any non alcoholic drink for free during your stay. Coolcool.) And I open the door and hear my mom and sister begging BIL to just stop it, let it go, just enjoy the ten days here. BIL is in MY room, going through MY things, yelling at mom and sis to leave him alone, he has to find it, it reeks, etc. I’m like, GTFO of my stuff, this is extremely violating, sister, are you not concerned and pissed he is pawing through my bra and panties right now, ‘looking for hidden pockets’?
Finally, he grabs this 15 or 20 mL vial I have, a pain relieving roll on I use for my migraines and tension headaches, about $55 after tax, not including S&H. I had left my almost empty one at home, and this was a brand new vial, safety wrapping still on. He blames me, said I was trying to ruin ‘his hard earned vacation’ (he has no job, only looks after my niece enough to feed her (most of the time) and my sister had to find a high -enough paying job so she could work from home so she could do every job like she were a single mother. The only chore he does, and only like 65% of the time (they love to eat out and/or order in) is cooking, and as much as I hate him, sometimes his dishes are good. Not phenomenal, like he practically requires everyone to praise it as, even if he just added sage basil and oregano to a frozen pizza.
So I ask, “how the hell can you smell that? There is the outer plastic seal and the inner lid seal?” And he goes off on being an Alpha Males and olfactory nonsense. Then he takes the vial and runs out of the room with it. He takes it to a housekeeping services cart several doors down and spikes I into her trash can, which by the thunk sound the vial made told me not only was her trash nearly or almost nearly empty, and that he had broken and wasted a valuable medical tool because he is batshit crazy and doesn’t see me as a person outside of how I interact with his everyday life, like I’m a NPC who doesn’t exist or say anything until a real person player comes into my field of awareness. He pawed through every item I owned, including underwear and opening my tampons one to sniff (I especially bought no scented for this trip, and he went and ruined a whole box of them (I’m not putting a previously opened and practically stuck up my BIL’s nose tampons! It’s not just unsanitary, it’s gross on so many levels! I also save up what little money I have leftover from my SSDI monthly checks, so over several months, I had saved up to buy that, bc it worked where others just smelled good but didn’t take the tension headache or migraine away. He has never had to pay for things with his own money, so has no concept of it, of saving money, of worth.
I stewed and stewed and I knew I had to be as petty as possible and still not get caught. I was still thinking these thoughts on our third to last day while I got an unusual massage at the Aulani spa. First is usual deep tissue massage, but then they rub your back and skin with tingly oils and take what looks like the contents of a bag of tea (very heady and fragrant in that small room) and rub it all over you, wrap you up for 15 min, scrape it off you, also taking excess body oil and dead skin cells with it as it goes. And then, smelling all those wonderful scents, I had a genius thought. As she scraped the herbs and stuff off my skin into a bowl, I asked for a to go bag for the herbs, and pretended I wanted to put them in a foot bath I was giving myself tonight in my room. Shockingly, they agreed, and gave me all the scrapings, herbs, essential &body oils, and dead skin cells, in a linen drawstring bag they said I could just toss the whole bag into the hot water.
Now, when I travel, I always pack duct tape in my checked baggage. To make sure shampoo, conditioner, lotion, stuff like that, wet and messy? So it will stay in the bottle with the top duct taped both on shut and to the top of the bottle. Nobody was in the room; they were taking a hike my physical disabilities made very challenging (like an 7-8/10 for me, and a 3.4.5/10 for them) over broken terrain and off trail a bit to climb to a waterfall, so I had said ‘I’m going to the spa. Peace!’ So nobody was back from the hike yet, but I had no idea when they would be, so I acted fast. I grabbed my duct tape and went into sister and BIL’s room and squished and squiggled my way as far under the bed as I could, an duct taped the linen bag of herbs and scrapings right under where he would lay his head to rest at night (according to his ‘Alpha Wolf’ status, he was always on the side of the bed between the door and the rest of his collectables in his room.
We had that day, two more days, and three nights left. BIL did not sleep a wink during that entire time - he had housekeeping change the bedding (including duvets and their covers) several times in that small frame of time, and demanded of my mom to rent him (on my moms dime, not this 40 y o mans money, the mooching leach, but her carefully budgeted money and visa card points hoarded over years.) his own, just perfectly sanitized room, obviously something had been left here by a former guest that was rotting. Finally, FINALLY my mom and sister had HAD IT. He whined and moaned more than my four yo niece. They finally ripped him a new one, saying he had been acting like an entitled baby man with delusions he is more important than he is, that we as women should fawn over him, and that he had already ruined all of ours, but especially my vacation by tossing my personal property and screaming at me for wearing perfume when I didn't even pack any. At one point I even piped up, ‘I didn’t put up with my father treating me like this, what makes you think I’m gonna take it from you?’ (AN/OP: my father abused me and mom and sister our whole lives. Lots of verbal, emotional, psychological abuse. Sister had it pretty literally; mom had it worst. But when my dad had 100% custody of me at beginning of divorce, my sister went away to college and moved out within the following two weeks, and I was his sole remaining target. For three years straight. Other, even more horrible disgusting things he did to me I’ve only just started to talk about, and don’t want my whole life blasted online while I deal.
So i got my silent, sweet-smelling revenge. For those 3 days and 3 nights, he didn't sleep a wink, which meant he couldn't keep his 'good guy' image up, and everyone saw how he treats me, and I'm no longer a liaexaggerating. I hope some act of God, or him driving around while completely wasted, as he does every single freaking day. He a waste of space, a waste of oxygen.
Again, the reason this is so long is because 1.) I suck at summarizing 2.) backstory of some sort was needed 3.) I’m not a good storyteller, but you are, Charlotte, and I know you can take this mess of info and turn it into a beautiful, long-time-coming, petty revenge story for your channel. Because what is more petty than an herbal, flowery Trojan horse type thing?
PS: he never did repay me for the OVER $300 worth of MY STUFF he upped and just tossed, or first broke then tossed, because it either offended his nose or him, personally, even though he begrudgingly promised to do so, and my sister promised he would. I only had like a 10% belief he would, but he has no money of his own, how was he gonna do that? Yes, I admit, I keep a record of anything I hear about him doing something negative, so one day if my sister even starts to consider divorce, I can whip out journal/notebook and show her his patterns, and he has always been this way, and he won’t ever change.

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When I was in junior high a transfer student arrived in the middle of the semester; a kid that was different from everyone else. Right away he had caught my eye, in fact he caught everyone's attention because he had a very unique disability; he couldn’t speak. I guess you could say he was deaf, though it was clear to me after getting to know him that he could in fact hear; every word spoken to him was understood with simple nods or gestures; facial expressions contorting into understood language; so I guess he was mute; yeah, that would describe him best. He was an oddity to most but to me he was a unicorn, something that sparkled in our dim monotonous lives and it wasn’t until he revealed who he was did I become terrified of him and his shine.
I was in 7th grade maneuvering my way through the jungle of middle school, avoiding trouble and premature violence. I was an undersized boy for my age, no more than 5ft tall; puberty had yet to visit me leaving me left out of the herd; the other students or the ‘sheep’ as I called them that infested my school. They were all the same, kids that were driven by hormones constantly talking about boys or girls, their deep voices riding on the coattails of the wind that breezed in and out of our hallways. I was a mere shadow, always walking a few paces behind the others not wanting to be seen or acknowledged; I saw what others that looked like me went through, they were tortured and abused for simply existing.
Once Bryce Ellis and his friends stuck Timmy Easton’s face in the shitter for over 10 flushes, I was in a stall over, hiding and waiting for the torment to be over. I slithered my feet up on to the stall caressing them to my chest as I sat in a fetal position horrified of how one human could treat another. Eventually the bullies had gotten bored, their short attention span driven minds directed them to another endeavor leaving Timmy to fester in his tears and possible filth.
He sobbed for minutes that felt like hours as I remained silent in the stall over, I placed my hand cautiously on the barrier wall trying to absorb a bit of his pain, my heart ached for him in that moment and I wanted to lend him a compassionate hand if only I had the courage to do so. So yeah, I did my best to stay hidden, unseen to all the dwellers that mindlessly walked in and out of our school on a daily basis, the boys that believed themselves to be men or the girls that pontificated to anyone that listened. I was lost into an enteral sea of vindictive young adults that searched for any reason to lash out at anyone that stood in their way.
So when ‘Tape boy’ — as they would eventually call him — came to my little middle school that stood still in the secluded hills of our small town I was enthralled almost immediately with his existence. He was introduced to my home room class, I sat in the back burying my head into my arms, occasionally lifting my head to listen on the days lecture. My day dreams entertaining me as the clock slowly ticked away at our lives and it wasn’t until my teacher promptly stopped talking did it trigger a primal emotion in me to sit up and pay attention. I postured myself up straight, pausing the internal movie that played in my mind to see what the interruption was about.
There he was, a new boy that no one had ever seen before, by middle school everyone knew each other; we had went to the same elementary school, the same holiday events and grocery stores. So getting a new student was like getting a new flavor at Baskin Robbins; a mystery taste simmering on the tip of your tongue as you digested every drop, his presence was intriguing. He wasn’t small like me, I would say average height for a 12 year old; about 5'4, slender body with unkempt dark black hair. He looked timid, his head tilted towards the ground not wanting to accidentally lock eyes with any of us as the teacher introduced him, my mind wandering with such intrigue because to all of our astonishment he was wearing a surgical face mask — mind you this was in the 90’s; eons before the Covid pandemic breached the windows of our thoughts.
Right away I could hear the murmurs, the questions erupting throughout the classroom as everyone pondered of why this boy sheltered his face. I stared on for what must of been minutes as the shy boy kept his gaze down, I could see him slightly squeezing the arm straps to his backpack nervously the longer he stood there on full display for all.
I had my fill and I relaxed my postured sinking back into my chair directing my stare out the window but then Billy Sherman asked the question we all had on our minds,
“Uhm, why is he wearing that mask?”.
Our teacher explained to us that it was because of some weaken immune system, something about how his ticker didn’t click like the rest of ours, she then also told us about him being mute. This drew my eyes right back to him, I think it did for all of us and for a moment the quiet kid raised his head and locked eyes with me. His dark black eyes glistened with despair, the deep purple bags that sagged under his eyes were more indicative of someone that hadn’t slept in days. I felt something for him in that moment, our third eye conversing in some cosmic dialogue and as quickly as he rose his head did it drop once again towards the ground. I could still hear all the the other kids snickering, questioning and some even giggling; it made me sick, if I was a braver boy I would of stood on top of my desk and verbally lashed out to all the sheep, instead I rose my hand asking something Mrs. Willis never said, what was the timid boys name?
“Oh I’m sorry, how rude of me, this is Gabriel”.
She sat Gabriel upfront next to her desk, wanting him close in case he needed to write or sign something to her and just like that everyone went back to their simple lives; including myself.
The next few weeks I saw little of Gabriel other than the back of his head during class, once the bell rang everyone that my eyes glimpsed at for the day disappeared or just maybe it was me who dissolved into the ambience of our school. Either way I saw little of the boy who wore a mask, the one that sheltered his true identity and my curiosity with the new flavor of the week gradually faded into the abyss of non-existence; well, that was until the day I saw the mask slip.
It was end of the day, I spent most of the time turning corners anytime Bryce Ellis approached; evading the wrath of him and his band of merry men who were the pinnacle of human torture; finding any opportunity to demean those who crossed their path. I remember leaving Chemistry class, my mind all to occupied with leaving the hell hole of every kids dread and that’s when I saw Gabriel walking down the hall towards the cafeteria; his head still tilted down; his gaze tracking every step he took; face mask still tightly fitted around his face.
This time I saw someone was following him, it was Tom Ingram one of Bryce’s guys, a kid that tried to be the “alpha male” of the group numerous times, doing his best to dethrone the reign of Bryce. He was a big boy for his age, probably about 5'9 and easily weighed 200 pounds, he was a wild card alright; he got caught pouring sugar down Mr. Whitakers old Pontiac gas tank for giving him a poor grade. So when I saw him berating poor Gabriel; taunting him as grotesque laughter followed every insult, I felt like I had to do something and my consistent stealth veneer of camouflage morphed into into a full on sprint towards the two. I saw Tom was closing in on him, other kids looking on with bewilderment on their faces — not knowing if they should laugh out of fear or grimace from disgust. For the first time in a long while did a burning sensation of courage ignite in my soul, I was tired of seeing monsters preying on the sheep and I was going to stop it somehow.
Finally Gabriel had stopped walking and stood still, his head hanging even lower than before, the strands of his long hair covered the remainder of his face. Tom began slapping the top side of the poor kids head, yelling out obscenities, angered that he didn’t stop sooner. I was close, I was gonna stop this since all anyone else could do is cower in fear while looking on and then it happened causing me to stop dead in my tracks, my eyes widening with befuddlement. Tom had torn away the mask from Gabriel's face, awes with groans came from everyone then silence blanketed the entire school and for those few seconds our existence had been swallowed up by the earth itself.
“What the hell” Tom yelped out breaking the still but heavy disquietude.
I wanted to say something, but no words could be manifested only gurgles as I choked on my own disbelief. The timid boy under the mask of intrigue had a strip of black duct tape covering his mouth, it stretching from the side of his face to the other almost resembling what would be some hideous smile. The timid boy then collapsed his hands over his face as faint muffles of sobbing protruded from him, he ran into the nearest restroom only for Tom to pursue. Finally my thoughts had been gathered while my body came back to life, I brushed off the bizarre occurrence of that grizzly smile and I reminded myself of what was about to happen. Tom was going to punish Gabriel for simply existing as he and his gang have been doing for years and like some old factory machine the cogs of my body set into motion as I ran towards the restroom.
Before I could open the door the most horrid scream exploded outwards into the hallway, the sound sending a cold shiver down my spine and Tom came running out of the restroom gripping at his face crying. He was hysterical running and bumping into the walls until finally crumbling onto the floor only to continue sobbing. My mind was clouded with a whirl wind of confusion, I no longer knew what to do, I mean I was going to run in there and stop the assault but now the assaulter was on the floor destroyed. Then Gabriel calmly came out of the restroom, his mask firmly back on and he turned to look at me, his dark eyes burning an image of anguish into my mind. I asked if he was okay of course he said nothing though, he didn’t need to I could just sense his response and it was one of gratitude. I almost could see him smiling at me from underneath the mask and I reminded myself of what was under it; that abysmal duct tape that looked like a sinister grin.
From that day on most of the kids were afraid of Gabriel, I could see the look of terror in their eyes anytime he passed by them even though his headed was still shifted downwards but that’s the day whenever someone mentioned him they referred to him as “Tape boy”. I had heard through the whispers of our school that Tom had suffered some mental breakdown, that the doctors couldn’t find anything psychically wrong with him, it was as if his mind had shattered. He remained in some mental hospital, memories of him gradually fading and the sheep went on with living their mundane lives. Bryce even slowed his bullying, I think he knew that their were now more eyes watching everyone after the altercation and he didn’t want to get caught in some bad situation, though I could see he was itching to get at Gabriel. I went back to being a shadow, avoiding all the others still not too confident that the days of torture were over.
Even though Gabriel was regarded as some magical or perhaps malevolent being by most; not sure which one; he still appeared to be sad; lonely, his head always dragging with despondency. I made an effort in getting to know him, I wasn’t afraid like the rest of them something about the day we locked eyes gave me the resolve to understand he wouldn’t hurt me. I approached him during lunch break, he was outside sitting underneath a tree, the shade showering him a gloom of haze. I think I surprised him or maybe it was just my stealth nature but I saw him jump when I sat next to him. I began talking about the origins of Darth Vader, of how he was originally a hero using his force power for good only to eventually turn to the dark side.
Gabriel just looked at me confounded of why I was even talking to him, his stare looking on with indifference. I told him that he was like a super hero, doing whatever he did to Tom was just like a super power, that I was thankful. His gazed then returned back to the floor almost out of shame, I guess whatever he did that day he didn’t see it as something special, or something to praise. I then told him that I still envied his ability to defend himself, that having such an ability was better than winning the school lottery — which was a week supply of free cafeteria food. I kept blabbering on for the remainder of the break while he still postured his stare towards the floor until the bell had finally rung. Before getting up I told him that if I could have a super power mine would be invisibility that’s when he turned to me pulling out a small spiral from his back pack writing something down, he then showed me.
“Why?” it read.
I told him that I didn’t like being seen, that if I could I would melt away into the noise, then life would be better he just stared at me with what I could assume was disbelief. He didn’t write anything back, he just remain seated while I stood to my feet. I asked if he was coming back to class but he ignored me and just stared out into space presumably lost in his own thoughts.
For the next several months I would catch Gabriel in the hallways, talk to him about the latest edition of whatever comic I was reading, Superman being my favorite and I would go on and on about how his true super power wasn’t strength but hope. I think he became more comfortable with me, pulling out his spiral notebook to write down his thoughts; his questions and answers — a new gateway of communication had formed between us. Most times I could tell what he was going to write by looking at his eyes, those dark haunting eyes, he was a mysterious book slowly being revealed to me and I was completely beguiled by his friendship. Bryce and his little posse slowly went back to bullying the sheep, though they kept their distance from Gabriel and me.
I guess I had a new protector one that wouldn’t be crossed and something about that protection left me feeling proud. I knew in my heart that the timid kid that now went by “Tape boy” wouldn’t hurt a fly that maybe the day of Tom going crazy was all by chance, perhaps his rage snapped his mind. I tried asking him about that day numerous times but he never explained what happened he would redirect the conversation back to super hero’s. I would walk home with him on certain days, well, more like he would walk me home I never got to see where he lived, he was too reserved to give up that kind of information but the days we would walk together was always fun. I finally felt like I belonged, the longing emotion of needing acceptance was found by his friendship.
One day when I was walking home by myself I decided to stop in at the gas station to pick up a drink and scour the latest edition of comic books in the small rack of magazines. Before entering the store I could hear arguing voices engaging in combative dialogue and it became vividly clear that it was more of a yelling match than conversation. It was coming from the side of the building, most times I would just ignore it but one of the voices sounded all too familiar and I crept slowly to the edge of the building poking my head out to get a glimpse of the disturbance. It was Bryce, his back was up against the wall while someone who I presumed was his father berated him with such a vicious snarl on his face. The angry man kept slapping Bryce across the face anytime he tried to say something and soon tears began drizzling off the face of the mighty bully only for the man to laugh.
I didn’t know why the older man was treating Bryce the way he was, information cut out of my understanding, for all I know it could of been because of something the bully did at school. I found it to be poetic justice that the boy that caused so much heart ache suffered the same amount only at home. It felt like a cliche, the angry kid was angry because of the angry father; a cruel loop of never ending proportions. Eventually the man or father walked away getting back into his car leaving the bully to brush away the tears from his face. I cautiously retreated my head away deciding to ditch the store completely when that same broken voice only minutes ago shouted out to me with a hefty dominance.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bryce howled out.
I didn’t bother turning around, I just ran home, dodging into alley ways trying my best to not been seen. It didn’t appear as if he was following, but seeing him in such a vulnerable state was bemusing. We were a small town how could I not know who the man was, we all knew each other since we were small and then it hit me; Bryce’s dad had left when he was little. This man must of been his step dad or perhaps mom’s boyfriend, it didn’t matter I was going to mind my own business, I was going to slither back into the shadows; but my attempts would only fall on defeated shoulders.
I didn’t want to tell anyone of what I saw, I hoped that keeping my mouth shut would of been enough for the bully to leave me be. Unfortunately there is no reasoning when it comes to human beings, we base our actions on emotions, our anger and Bryce confronted me the next morning in front of Gabriel.
“Hey fairy, did you enjoy the show?” the angry kid spouted out at me.
I tried explaining to him that I wasn’t trying to intrude, that the arguing concerned me, that I didn’t like seeing him being mistreated and then he punched me right in the gut. I fell to the floor gripping at my stomach, the pain slicing through every fiber of my body. I tried catching my breath but inhaling was too painful and I sheltered my face expecting another punch but the bully walked off leaving me to sweat. Gabriel kneel down to me taking out his spiral notebook writing the obvious question, I gestured to him to give me a moment and I honestly felt like crying. I had spent years doing my best to blend into the background, the invisibility power I was so desperate to have amongst the sheep was now gone; I was on Bryce’s radar.
For the remainder of the school year I tried avoiding the bullies, the monsters that preyed on the sheep but their leader would actively search for me, he was no longer intimidated by Gabriel; his once menacing allure had dwindled and now we both were sitting ducks. Luckily there was only a few weeks left until summer break and I only had hoped that the time off would be enough for the monster of monsters to cool off.
Entering summer was a relief much needed for my sanity, I took a few thrashings but it was over, me and Gabriel had big plans on spending time together. He wasn’t an out door kind of kid, he usually would just come over my place and we would read my comic books. He quickly grew enchanted with the idea of super hero's, their powers restoring balance to the nature of our world. I enjoyed every minute of it, my parents on the other hand looked less jovial to our friendship, they didn’t like the mask; it worried them. They thought that whatever illness he had could be passed on to me, but they didn’t do anything to stop us from seeing each other, they only silently protested.
So after awhile we decided to meet somewhere outdoors, away from my parents judgmental stares, there was a creek close to my house, the trees giving us enough shade to stay cool on those long summer days. The small stream that flowed through the trenches of the creek enriched our view as we would find the perfect rock to perch on while reading our comics. We didn’t see much of any of the other classmates that summer, the sheep kept their distance or maybe it was just us, but the days seem to pass quickly and before we knew it summer was coming to an end. I couldn’t remember how many volumes we must of read but Gabriel was now a fan of almost every super hero. He tend to raise out his arms while walking, mimicking the premise of flying like Superman; his ponderous eyes cutting through the brush as we escaped our secluded summer spot.
It was on the final day of our summer break did I pressure the shy timid boy to explain to me what had happen that day, the day Tom lost his marbles, I needed to know. Gabriel as always tried redirecting the conversation, holding up a comic of Batman, pointing at some dialogue. I got upset, I raised my voice telling him that if we were friends then he should tell me, that there wasn’t secrets between us. His heavy eyes collapsing to the ground, shifting his posture on the rock that we both sat on.
“Look, I just need to know, you’re my best friend” I told him with genuine longing.
The school year was about to start up again and I could already envision a future of slithering through the hallways how I have always done, but with Gabriel maybe that could change. I needed to know and I was done guessing, fantasizing that he was some super hero or at least my hero; my protector. I stood up off the rock walking over to the stream, the sound of water colliding unto the small stones that infested the trench triggered something awful in my gut. I took a deep breath and made my final stand with my best friend.
“If you don’t want to tell me then I’m going home, see ya” I said with impatience dripping off of my words.
Gabriel ignored my warning and continued pointing at the comic book, that’s when I noticed what he was pointing at, it wasn’t dialogue it was one of Batman's villains — he was pointing at Clayface. This made me stop, my minding halting after speeding at 100 miles per hour; it crashing my thoughts.
“Yeah, what about Clayface?” I curiously asked with a withered and tired voice.
That’s when his pointer finger was no longer on the page but rather it was pointed towards his mouth; the mouth that was hidden behind his mask. He could see my face drop with sadness, whatever disfigurement he had underneath that horrid black duct tape must of been something like the villain from the comic and my heart broke for him. Gabriel’s eyes gleaming with absolute sorrow, the boy that only wanted to be left alone, the person all the others feared just wanted solitude and here I was badgering him to no end about something so insignificant. We stared at each other for several seconds, our eyes meeting in some altered state and I reached my hand up to his face tenderly taking off his mask. There it was, the black duct tape that resembled a grin, a nightmarish one that could only been seen in some horror movie. I then placed my fingers on the edge of the tape, my cold grip causing him to shiver and I slowly began to remove it.
“What the hell are you fairy’s doing?” a voice called out from the brush, one that sank my heart into my stomach.
I turned trying to locate the voice and sure enough there he was, the bully that had tortured so many for so many years — it was Bryce. His body slowly revealing itself from the brush like some despicable ooze frothing from the depths of hell. Though, something about him was different, his cold stare no longer fictitious but more intimidating and as his body fully emerged did I see the blood trickling down his soaked stain shirt. He was covered in the crimson fluid, there was even some on his cheeks almost as he had some open wound and smeared the remnants of it on his face. The devilish grin that bestowed his bruised and beaten face quickly led me to a conclusion; one that I wish I didn’t conclude. A purplish black infested the out layer of his left eye, it practically closed shut and his nose had been bent to a unsightly angle. I started to whimper as my lips trembled from fright because this Bryce was not the same one that had given us wedgies or swirlies this one was a true monster, a beast that devoured souls. His gaze was enough to display a vacancy of any humanity and my eyes crawled down his arm into his hand to see the black pistol that he firmly gripped.
“Uh, Bryce what happened? Are you okay?” I groaned out while sniffling.
He didn’t answer, he just kept grinning at me, the ghastly smile that stretched ear from ear plagued my vision and I knew that he had done it, that he had hurt someone badly. I was terrified and in the moment I had completely forgotten about Gabriel, my tunnel vision only focused on that firearm.
“Where the hell did the other one go?” the monster asked, I turned and realized Gabriel in fact had run away leaving me behind.
I wanted to run, I wanted to flee while screaming but horror kept me in place and I felt like some dear trapped in headlights contemplating my entire life in mere seconds.
“Everyone always messes with me!” Bryce yelled out with such ferociousness.
There was no talking my way out of this one, no pleading, I knew in that moment he was going to kill me; his rage over flowing to the point of lunacy. He quickly pounced dropping me to the floor, screaming with madness and he repeatedly hit me over the head with the but of the gun causing me to see stars. His words became incoherent sounding like muffled tones that slushed it’s way into my hearing, I shook my head trying to collect myself, just maybe I could figure a way out of this but as soon as my vision corrected itself Bryce would strike me another time causing it to blur once again. I fell into a darkness, my world collapsing into an eternal void of loneliness as my body began to float effortlessly but as soon as I thought this was my final moments flashes of Gabriel flooded into my mind awakening me out of whatever slumber I found myself in. That’s when I realized Bryce was no longer hitting me, instead he was talking to someone and as I grabbed at my head trying to steady my balance I saw it was Gabriel standing still head as always tilted downwards.
Bryce confronted him pointing his 9mm directly at his head yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs but my best friend remained unmoved, just quiet and then he slowly removed his mask. This caused Bryce to pause, his tone weaken and I think for the first time he digested if he should proceed doing what he was doing.
“What are you doing freak?” the bully yelped out.
Gabriel remained quiet, eyes still directed towards the floor, his breathing escalating; I could see his chest pump more vigorously with each passing second. With the mask off me and Bryce could see the bewildering black duct tape strapped to his face, Gabriel’s face began to tremble violently as if he was trying to yell through the bondage. He then finally began to peel of the thick layer of black duct tape and it came off with a wicked screech as I could see my friends eyes squint with pain.
Bryce was no longer pointing the gun at Gabriel, no longer was he even saying a word his arm lowered to his side and both him and I stared on with amazement. What was under the tape was layers of skin, twisting and binding to each other like some thriving organism living it’s own life on Gabriel's face. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t say anything I was in shock and my head still throb from pain. Then Gabriel's mouth — if you want to call it that — began to stretch open, he tilted his head backwards while the mountain of dead flesh started to drip down his face allowing some endless void to open up inside of him. I could hear the cracking of bones breaking, his jaw shifting to accommodate the massive hole that was now his mouth and then horrid dwindling fingers began to protrude from the darkness.
My mouth gaped open with trepidation and if I had the ability to adjust my head I would think Bryce had the same facial expression. Then a grotesque head forced it’s way out of my friends mouth revealing a face that could only exist in the realms of the dead, this new creature having two large almond shape eyes; eyes that looked very similar to the ones that were attached to my friend. This ‘thing’ then stared at Bryce, that’s all it did, no words were spoken no violence was created it just stared at him and soon the bully grasped at his face and began to yell. He ran frantically in different directions, his gun firing out into the tree line, I jumped for cover; falling to the floor sheltering my head with my arms. Bryce’s terrified screams caused my stomach to turn and soon those dire cries stopped along with the gunshots.
I must of stayed on the floor for what felt like hours, too scared to rise to my feet and through my peripheral did I see the sun begin to set plunging the small creak into darkness. I eventually mustered up enough courage to get up and I looked around, Bryce was mere feet away from me, he lay still on the floor blood spewing out of his head; it appeared as if had shot himself. I walked over to his body befuddled of what to do I then remembered Gabriel, I turned to look for him but he was gone it was only me and Bryce's dead corpse. I ran home telling my parents about everything, of the encounter I experienced, at first it seemed as if they didn’t believe me but they still phoned for the police.
I led them to the creek to the bullies dead body, I initially thought perhaps they would blame me, connect me to his death but the police believed me; well the believed me about Bryce but not about Gabriel. They told me that Bryce had killed his step father, apparently they had gotten into some altercation and afterwards he went into his mothers bedroom and shot her to death. They told me that the once bully was a disturbed individual, suffering abuse for many years; that I was lucky to escape from his wrath. I told them that they needed to find my friend I wanted to know if he was okay, but all the officers could do was pat my back with sympathy trying to relax me.
It has almost been 30 years since the event, I still have nightmares of what had happened, I see the dead stare Bryce had while pointing his pistol at me, I see him repeatedly hitting me over the head again and again. Though, what still haunts me more is Gabriel's mouth contorting into that horrid shape revealing the creature that lived inside of him. He was never found, I’m pretty sure he moved on to another city, another place where bullies like Bryce tormented their schools and I could only imagine Gabriel was there to balance the wrongs of the world. I am scared of my best friend, but I know at the same time he is my protector; my super hero, he is out there doing good, I can feel it and I hope he can sense my love for him. Maybe we will never meet again, perhaps it’s not written in the stars for us to reunite but one thing is for sure, I get comic books mailed to me randomly every month; most are of Superman and I know exactly who they are from.

So I am wondering if anyone has had this situation. Throwaway cause my wife does browse reddit on occasion.
I've been married for over 15 years and I think we have a pretty healthy relationship. Every couple of months we seem to fall into this pattern of behavior.
She gets mad at me (usually over something I've done or not done, usually a valid reason) and starts either starts listing off the reasons she's mad or confronts me about something.
I physically clam up and can't say any words more complex than "I can see why you feel this way." Or just uh huh and grunts.
She gets even angrier because I'm not defending myself, I have become a gray rock. I knew she wants me to validate her feelings or comfort her or even defend myself. But the speech center of my brain shuts down and I have no ability to make words.
She storms out and we don't talk for a day or two because my mind sees a wall of anger from her and decides that it's not worth it to speak and she thinks I'm giving her the silent treatment because I'm mad at her.
We make up and then the same thing happens 3 months later.
It's really frustrating because i KNOW what I have to do, which is keep engaging her and letting her give voice to her feelings. She's even told me what she wants me to do. At this point it's almost scripted in how this goes down.
I just literally can't make my mouth work and it spirals from there.
I'm sure it had something to do with my childhood, where if my dad ever got mad at me, he would just explode on me if I ever said anything in my defense and physically hurt me until I stopped resisting. I learned to sit and take it and never talk or make any noises that could be taken as insolence. It's been over 25 years since this has happened but I can't seem to break that cycle of behavior.
Any hints?

Key Word is Feels. As in, I'm not saying he is one, he just feels like on.
And he feels that way, because the series goes out of its' way to tell us how super special and strong that Heron is. He's the only offspring that inherited Zeus power which makes him potentially stronger than any other Full God in the series. He's Zeus's Favorite child and the only child Zeus wants to be a father too, because he apparently doesn't care to be a father to his other children. Why did he give Heron a sword stronger than any weapon the gods have? Zeus totally 100% only loved Heron's mother. He never loved Hera or any of the other women he had children with. He can fight almost equally to the gods who have more experience that he does. And let's not ignore that the series is making him the undisputed Hero in the fight against the titans. Oh, and lets not forget that Zeus wanted him to find the Eleusinian stone because he's so special he should lead all the gods now and Zeus wants Heron to lead the gods.
He doesn't face any consequences at all in the series. The series tried to claim that his mother's death is a consequence of throwing away his sword. Except the first season framed that as a consequence for Zeus, not a consequence for Heron. He has no real flaws either. If you try to argue that he's angry and that's a flaw, explain to me how it's a flaw for his character? Because he wasn't able to tap into his power? He's only faced Seraphim once in the series and that was at the end. The other 2(?) times have been interrupted, and it wasn't because Heron was losing because he was angry. and then explain why Heron shouldn't be angry?
And to top it all off, he's bland and has no personality. Can someone tell me what Heron's personality is besides generic protagonist? He's angry sometimes? I can't tell you, because he doesn't have one, and the series doesn't explore his character in any way, because the series didn't set up anything for Heron that works with his character. And its because the series didn't give Heron a Character. Where did Heron's fear of his power come from? Not once did we see him care until he had to fight the Keres. So where did it come from? his fight with Ares didn't make him think of that. When he kept destroying things due to his anger?? Remember when Heron said Seraphim was right about the gods being flawed? well, that goes absolutely nowhere and meant absolutely nothing.
Let me ask, besides being the protagonist, why is Heron the one that Zeus chose to get the stone? Why did Zeus feel that Heron should be the next leader of the gods? why is Heron the one that has to tell the Gods about forgiveness, when the series didn't even explore that with his character at all. Why is Heron meant to be an example of forgiveness when Heron is New there and has no say in anything that goes on? Why is Heron still being forced into the plot of the Gods, when he doesn't fit in said plot at all. Heron doesn't belong anywhere near the Gods, and the series never set him up to belong there.
He's there simply because he's the protagonist and so he's the wisest and the strongest and everyone should listen to him because he's Zeus's super special son.

Hello.
I just passed my 10th and result came out on 13/05 scored only 75% (very average Ik). Ofcourse just like every middle class family my parents were also disappointed in me specially my dad. He called me on the same day and Said things like "jahil" (illiterate) and "Go back to Village government school we are wasting money on you" though my mother was understanding and didn't said much to me.
Now, it's 14/05 and it's my birthday, got call from my uncles (mother's brothers). They wished me, asked about my score and told me that it's fine. Inshort they were also understanding. But my father didn't call me, heck he even didn't speak to me (even though he called mom just like regular). I didn't celebrate or should I say I didn't want to but still my mother insisted, so she brought a small cake and some patties.
3 of us cut the cake (me, mom, little brother) Again dad didn't call nor talked.
It doesn't end here.
I started my 11th on 01/04 and I was absent for a really long time. So got a really long backlog and a lot of my notebook work is pending. There was PTM (parent teacher meeting) on 16th so my class teacher called me and asked me to handover the phone to my mom and that b@st@rd complained to my mom about me. Though she didn't say much to me but I could see that disappointment in her eyes. We didn't make it to PTM. And the CT just messaged me that another PTM is there tomorrow for those who didn't attend previously and I am pretty sure he would complain about me even more.
I just don't know what to do, only hope that's keeping me afloat is my mother. I feel terrible.
I do accept that I have some privileges like understanding mom, good financial background, few but understanding relatives etc.
And still I can't score good, still I can't live upto their expectations.
I seriously don't know what to do, I just want to run away from my house but I can't because my mom would have to face all the backlash from family and friends.
Looks like. I will just have to Tolerate this untill i pass 12th.
Life is shit.

I just need to vent and don't know who to vent to so sorry for the super long, dramatic post. I guess I'm sharing my "story" in case it makes someone feel less alone, because I'm hoping to feel that way. I guess I'm also hoping for advice. :)
Growing up, my father was physically/ emotionally/ verbally abusive. The physical stuff was only when I was very young, it fizzled out as I grew up. But the other stuff was so brutal. The general overview was that I was the scapegoat from a very early age. My older brother had some special needs/ emotional issues so a lot of my parents' energy went to him and my younger sister was the baby of the family, the favorite, often leaving me on the outskirts. Any attention I did get was purely negative. I think as a child I harbored some resentment towards the two of them, as unfair as it is. I know as an adult it wasn't their fault and I truly feel I've moved past it. However the effects of only ever experiencing negative attention from my parents are horrible.
I was taught at such a young age that I was bad, that there was something truly, devastatingly wrong with me, and therefore I caused all of the tension and fighting in the house. My father had a hard day at work, it was my fault when he took it out on everyone. My siblings got in a fight, it was my fault for causing the bad moods. If I retaliated while being attacked (physically or verbally), it was viewed as an isolated incident, an uncalled for, uncontrollable temper. When I did mess up or misstep, it only made it worse. Everyone else was infallible, while my mistakes were ammunition, weaponized as evidence.
I remember knowing something was wrong but not having the language for it. I was too young to understand and by the time I got older and had the capacity to communicate what was happening to me, the manipulation ran so deep that I didn’t think words like “abuse” applied to my situation. I so deeply believed that I was bad and terrible and every other horrible thing they called me that I thought it was my fault. The physical stuff had subsided, so isn’t it my fault that they yell?
I figured out how to keep myself safe eventually. Stay out of the way. Stay in your room. Don’t make noise. Don’t cross their paths. Don’t have any wants or needs. If you overhear slamming or yelling, hold your breath, make yourself smaller, pray it subsides before they remember you’re there. It didn’t always work, but I did my best. The only way I got through was counting down the years until I finished high school and I could get out. Though sometimes that number provided more dismay than comfort.
It wasn’t until I graduated high school that I realized what it was. My parents split up at the end of my senior year and it was the first time I heard someone else use the word. My mother. I remember when the word “abuse” passed her lips. Some part of me found it to be obvious, another part of me was destroyed. Nothing was the same after that. I had already experienced such a tumultuous upbringing and now I had to re-experience it under the lens of abuse. It was like it happened twice.
The first year was really strange. My father was overly nice, overly welcoming, trying to forge a connection we’d never had. My mother was apologetic, trying to rebuild something that never was. My father was afraid I’d testify and my mother… I suppose she felt guilty for never stepping in. I don’t know what I felt. Confused. Angry. Hurt. I knew my parents had been strict and unkind, but downright abusive? It made sense but I didn’t want it to.
My anxiety was really bad. With my father out of the house, all of my repressed memories started coming back to me. I was having nightmares every night. I started having panic attacks. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Every minute awake was spent in an anxiety attack (with the occasional panic attack) and every minute asleep was filled with nightmares. This went on for about two months. I lost about 30 pounds.
This was also during quarantine, so my family was stuck at home together. My mother and I didn’t have the kind of relationship where we could talk to one another so she assumed I was completely fine. My siblings were always welcome to come to her so she knew they were having a hard time with it, so her attention and compassion went to them. When I started having panic attacks, I talked to her, hoping for some kind of help or support. Instead I was brushed off.
Summe fall of that year was when things started to deteriorate once more. My mother was angry and I was the recipient. Every word that left her mouth about me was negative, whether it was to me or to someone else. My mere presence and existence were enough to set her off. Just like as a child, it was all on me. Everyone’s anger, everyone’s moods, all of the fighting and yelling. It was all on me again. But I was angry too. I had just realized my father had abused me my entire life and that my mother had stood by while it happened. Not only that, but she was a participant my whole childhood. I know it’s not fair to blame her. If my father was like that with my siblings and I, I can only imagine what else was going on. But I was a child. She was an adult. As a woman, I have so much empathy for her. As her child, I didn’t know how to forgive her, especially when she was continuing the cycle even after my dad left.
The year I was 19 was filled with constant anger and flights, I always had to be on guard, ready for anything. Her threatening to kick me out was nothing new, but now that I was old enough to be on my own, it felt so much more real. It also felt so unjustified. I’d yell back when I was being yelled at. I was bad about keeping up with my chores. But there wasn’t a single instance that felt worthy of throwing me aside. Yet she held shelter and stability over my head every chance she got. I was attending community college classes and working part time, saving up as much as I could in case she followed through.
We lost our house that year, moved to an apartment. Tensions only grew worse. My mom was more stressed out than ever and I was more of a target than ever. I worked two jobs, attended classes. I was never home, never asked for anything, paid for all of my own things, never engaged with her. And yet…
I was 21 when it finally happened, after years of being threatened with it. I was a semester away from finishing my degree, still working two jobs, still staying out of the way. My older brother and I were told my mother and sister were moving at the end of the week and we were not welcome to join. The lease on our current apartment ended in two months and we were welcome to stay if we covered the bills, but after that, we were on our own. No help.
My brother was 24, two years into a full time job, tens of thousands of dollars saved away. While still obviously a horrible situation, he’d be okay. But me? I know 21 is an adult but I was still in school. Yes I worked two jobs but they were still part time, and almost all of my income was spent on school, gas, groceries, and bills. At this point, I was a few months into no contact with my father. When my mother told me this, we didn’t speak for months. We eventually got back in touch, but it's not a proper connection.
The hardest part was that I was alone. There was no family I could stay with, no friends able to take me in, no one to help me find a place or help me understand my finances and my options. The tuition for my last semester of school was $5,000. I would be student teaching in the mornings and working all afternoon and weekends. I’d have to make enough money to fully cover all of my bills and necessities while spending 20 hours a week student teaching, completely unpaid, on top of all of my other classes. I didn’t have much in savings since I had to spend most of my income to get by, which meant I couldn’t afford a security deposit or movers or furniture or first/ last month's rent. I lived in an expensive area where even a studio was $2,000/ month minimum, and that’s before utilities and everything else. I didn’t see how I could make it work. I didn't know anyone I could room with and moving with strangers was a last resort. I spent those two months trying to figure it out, trying to accept the very real, tangible possibility of homelessness.
Eventually, I found a place. My grandparents help me with part of my rent. I work three jobs. I had to drop out of school. I’m not in touch with my parents. I’m 22 now. Being on my own, I feel a bit better. Not having to live in constant fight or flight, not having basic necessities held over your head, not being hated and terrorized just for existing… It's so peaceful. I’m stressed about money and my future, but it feels so much more approachable now. I hate my circumstances but for the first time in my life, I have a will to keep going.
That being said, it’s also so difficult. Seeing people my age close to their families, having a home and people to go back to, getting to graduate college supported by loved ones (financially or otherwise), only just now starting their adult lives… It's hard. A better person would be happy for them, and deep down I am, but I’m also so jealous. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to finish my degree. I don’t want to take out loans with no way to pay them back. Yes I’m working three jobs, but the cost of living is so immense, just about every cent goes to bills, rent, and necessities. I don’t see a way out but I want to find one. I don’t want my parents to get to rob me of my dreams in life when they’ve already taken so much from me. I’ll never be the person I could’ve been if I grew up with love and support, but I don’t want that to stop me.
I know this is an impossibly long post. I just needed to vent and get things off of my chest. But if anyone reading this has any advice, I’d love to hear it. I know 22 is an adult, I know I should be more put together than this, people are in my situation so much younger and they figure it out, but I just feel so lost. I want to finish school. I don’t want to barely get by while working 3 jobs. I want a family. I don’t know what to do.

Hi there! I’m 26, central US timezone, and female!
SAFE FOR WORK ONLY.
Message me with your age, timezone (US Timezones Preferred), what plot idea you’re interested in, and a sample of your writing!
Partner requirements: must be 22-38 - Must play male (IRL gender doesn’t matter)- write in third person - at least two paragraphs - decent grammar and punctuation- must be able to post once a day to every other day. Communication is key, please let me know if you are going to be busy for longer than a day or two or if you are no longer interested. No asterisks for actions. Dialogue should be in quotations. NO AI ART OR WRITING.
I’ve been craving a good enemies to lovers roleplay for awhile now and what’s a better enemies to lovers roleplay than something revolving around the mafia?
Plot idea #1: Your character has recently taken over the family business. My character is a college student on a study abroad trip that happens to see something they weren’t supposed to. Y/C’s men that were handling the deal take her back to the main ‘headquarters’ and keep her locked up, leaving Y/C to deal with her.
Plot idea #2: Your character is in a small gang that is tasked with kidnapping the naive daughter of a mob boss that stole money from another. Basic idea, can be fleshed out more together.
Plot idea #3: your character would be a police officer that’s gone undercover with some small local gangs to bust a couple of drug dealers and whatnot. Having done such a great job there, he is offered a bigger mission and if he takes it, when he returns to his actual station, he will get a bigger raise, new car, K-9 unit, some sort of special thing that he’s been working towards. This bigger mission would be infiltrating a bigger mafia family that seems to be running all these smaller ones. Thanks to some forged documents, lies spread around, and some of the actual dirty work he has done over the last six months, the head of the family invites him to a nightclub to chat. The chat leads to the offering of a position within the family, a personal bodyguard for the mob bosses daughter after the situation that happened with her last one. It’s his first break through and they’re welcoming him with open arms. Does he accept?

Hi，everyone，I'm from China, and in my impression, the UK is a developed country and has free medical care, but why do couples in this news have to wait for 2 or 3 years,,,, Mold couple that had hip surgery in Lithuania because waiting lists too long want refund off NHS ITV News Wales You know, my mother has hip dysplasia and also needs hip replacement surgery, but she only waited about a week for the surgery (Public hospitals), and this is a common phenomenon in china , not a special case. This video also discusses this issue, and it seems that this problem is quite common in developed countries: Tired of long wait for doctor or surgery? Why not come to China! healthcare (youtube.com) So anyone told me why the UK needed to wait that long? Compared with China(developing country), the gap is so big, Isn't UK a developed countries with high-tech and efficient medical care?

Movie pros:

1. Excellent freaking soundtrack by Dario Marianelli
   
2. Portrays Lizzie Bennet as louder, messier, & more confident which is a more modern and unique take on the character.
   
3. Pretty damn impressive visuals and cinematography (particularly the Lizzie on top of the cliff scene…breathtaking shot)
   
4. Darcy and Bennet have soooo much tension and chemistry. Especially in the ballroom scenes or the proposal. Just way more believable as a relationship. Especially since compared to book Darcy, Macfadyen’s is pretty tame & more likable.
   
5. Relationship with Lizzie and her father is so lovely and portrayed really nicely in this movie.
   

Movie cons:

1. Rushes thru the entire story of Wickham & makes him a bland and nothing character by just talking about what he did “wrong” & not showing how he basically tried to groom Georgiana & other girls. (Yeah I guess they showed him & Lydia coming back to visit but…it just felt so cheap & rushed considering they barely show why Darcy hates Wickham so much).
   
2. Doesn’t do the greatest job of showing why Darcy has to change by making him so fumbly and awkward the entire movie. He’s just kind of standoffish…& antisocial? Really doesn’t come off as super pompous or full of himself like he was in the book or Colin Firth tbh. And yeah in the proposal scene he starts insulting Jane’s fam & whatever but it’s all talk. For most of the movie he has not shown that attitude towards them AT ALL. He doesn’t come off as rude or snobby more just shy. They just kinda tell us he broke up Jane & Bingley but fail to show the impact of it as well as the series did.
   
3. Doesn’t fully address many flaws if at all of Lizzie Bennet & makes her a perfect superhuman who is wronged by everyone else. Like the whole point of the book is that she and Darcy are both wrong and misguided just to different degrees. She also acts really unrealistically extroverted and unrestrained for a woman of her time even tho she’s a progressive, feminist character anyways. I love Keira Knightley but her as Lizzie was a bit too modernized imho.
   
4. Makes the Bennet family dynamic kind of watered down bc in the book the whole conflict about their family is that they’re seen as silly and embarrassing (especially Lizzie’s younger sisters). There’s barely any scenes about this & Darcy just kind of mentions it without us seeing more about Lizzie’s conflicted feelings with her fam. Really doesn’t do much justice to the whole social commentary of Austen’s book by barely showing how people perceive Lizzie’s family. Also Jane & Lizzie have little to no chemistry as sisters and have like 2 good scenes together.
   
5. Jane and Bingley’s relationship really isn’t done much justice. There’s maybe two big scenes with them and that’s it. Super boring in the movie when it’s meant to be such a huge plot point.
   Series pros:
   
6. Really good casting for Lizzie and Jane Bennet, their bond as sisters is really believable and book-accurate. I especially love the scene where Lizzie and Jane are in the garden together and each is equally trying to console the other.
   
7. The whole Bennet family dynamic is given enough attention and flaws to show why Lizzie has such conflicting feelings about them and how it affects other people’s perceptions of her. (Especially in terms of the mother & younger sisters 😂)
   
8. The Bennet Father has way more of a personality besides stoic & lightly supportive as he was in the film. He legit takes responsibility for his lack of caution and care with Lydia after she runs away and admits to Lizzie and the others that he was wrong.
   
9. The Bingley sisters are straight out of mean girls and are way bitchier to Lizzie and her family which WORKS so much better as social commentary and in turn, motivation for Darcy to improve.
   
10. Charlotte Lucas has way more of a personality that makes sense with Lizzie Bennet as her friend. They’re both very calm, cool, and intelligent which is more fitting. It also gives time for her to explain why she married Mr. Collins and that she’s satisfied with not marrying for love. In the movie she’s just kinda nice, disappears for most of the time, & then shows up again like “yea I just need his money you don’t GET it Lizzie!!”
    
11. The whole conflict with Wickham is really expertly carried out as he seems charming at first but is developed into a careless two-timer. I wanted to punch him which meant the actor did a great job.
    
12. Music is great and plays a noticeable role in the story several times.
    
13. Bingley and Jane’s relationship is given a lot of attention and clearly shows rather than TELLS the emotional damage this has on Jane.
    
14. Scenery switches up a lot and is very accurate to each location the characters go to in the book.
    

Series cons:

1. Lizzie and Darcy have zero chemistry and their relationship feels very wooden and minimal. I’m sorry I love those two in King’s Speech but Firth looked wayyy too stiff and unfeeling as Darcy. And I know that’s the point, but I just couldn’t buy those two were in love.
   
2. The episodes are really slow-paced and long which means more story is represented but also fairly hard to sit through even for former readers. A lot of the pacing is pretty dull at first especially.
   
3. Bingley and Darcy had no chemistry as friends and I couldn’t buy they were close at all. Way better bond in the movie.
   

Series pros-cons ratio: 9:3
Movie pros-cons ratio: 5:5

What are some phrases society/family/friends/your partneBM/BD say to stepparents that give you the ick?
Mine would be “treat your stepchildren like your own children”.
I am child free and plan to stay that way. I feel like it’s an insult to assume I’m going to have a child with my SO. If I wanted a child, I wouldn’t be with someone who already did it twice with another woman and got the experience. It can also be insulting to stepparents who have kids themselves because their children deserve to feel special and have a deeper and more important connection with their mother or farther. A child can resent their parent if they treat them and their stepbrothestepsister the same.
Another phrase would be “step up”. I usually see this in forms of people complementing a stepdad for being a father to their SO’s kid. “Thank you for stepping up in this child’s life!” Good for them if they want to take on that role, but society has a delusional view that all stepparents have to play the part of parent to their stepchild/stepchildren. We don’t need to step up, we didn’t cause the split of their parents. I don’t need to pick up past pieces of someone’s past or decisions they made. Maybe watch who you procreate with (in some cases). You never see any of the bioparents being told to step up when dealing with their own kids.

About a month ago, my mom asked my younger sibling to let my sister live with them in their 1 bedroom apt and work down there to get some job experience.They said they couldn't cause their friend was already living with them as well as their combined 1 dog and 2 cats. So it deferred to me. I asked why they wanted her out the house so bad and it turned out my stepfather was coming home on leave then retirement in July/Aug.
Now, my stepfather is a piece of shit. He verbally abuses my mother, my sibling and myself and physically abused my sister due to her being "a problem child" in my highschool years. Things such as Military PT, standing in a corner for 5+hours, and writing over 100 pages front to back of lines. My sibling and I also got some of this but nothing as bad as my sister. My sister reasonably is terrified of this man and the few times he's come to visit, she refuses to leave her room and will wait til he's asleep or out the house to even grab food and drinks.
He is not aware that she is trans (most of our family doesn't know) but she's grown out her hair and dresses a bit more feminine when she feels comfortable. My stepfather is a highly conservative person who on several occasions has said my mom is a terrible mother cause all her children are gay/trans/nonbinary and it was somehow her fault.
Now to the part that might make me the asshole, I haven't said no yet but I'm worried about a few things.

1. My sister can not drive so she can't get herself to work, (The town we live in is mostly highways and since she's autistic and highly antisocial, working at the restaurant closest to our house isn't the best option) so we would have to drive her.
   
2. We would have to choose between a living space and our gaming setups. We chose this space due to the amount of stuff we have and to have a comfortable space to live in. Having to get rid of my art workspace in the dining room area or his vr setup to give the other room to my sister seems unfair to us.
   

I feel like we are unreasonably having to compromise our comfortability for my mom to stay with a shitty human being. We have talked with her on multiple occasions asking why, if she knows that man makes her children uncomfortable, is she willing to stay with him? Her response is always that she still loves him or he isn't that bad or "[Sister] can just such it up". I want to make it clear if anything happened to my sister while he was there I would immediately go get her to let her crash at my place for a bit. I never want her to be unsafe.
I don't really have any friends due to moving around alot and everyone I know is emotionally invested in this conflict. I have been told I'm being selfish and an asshole for not immediately saying yes and moving her in right away. But I'm also being told it isn't my responsibility to take care of my sister, it's my mom's responsibility.
Please any advice will be greatly appreciated. AITA?

I've posted about a year ago regarding my then 7th month old scratching his head and hurting himself in the process. You can find the old post here: https://www.reddit.com/Parenting/comments/139ip9z/baby_wont_stop_scratching_his_head_until_it_bleads/
Recently I've had 3 different parents that have found the post and were in the same situation, inboxing for an update/solution, so I decided to make an update post in case more parents are looking for answers. Sorry I took so long. I know the despair you feel. I assure you it will get better if you persevere. This is an extremely long post, so I have bolded the several topics, in case you don't want to read everything, so they are easier to find.
To update on my son's situation: He's now 1y and 7 months. He is allergic to milk and he has a combination of cradle cap and eczema. In addition to this, he was also born with Hydronephrosis (enlarged kidneys) which means he is limited in the medication that he's allowed to take (no ipobrufren, as an example)
The Cradle Cap situation has improved by itself, mainly by just carrying on with what we were doing. We use the Frida Flake Fixer treatment and a cradle cap shampoo (Dentinox). We've also been advised not to wash his head every day, leave it 1 or 2 days (one doctor even said once a week). For the cuts, the best thing was indeed a Vaseline barrier to help the raw skin heal. Even though it definitely stinks, the healing is the most important part. I would put Vaseline on his scalp the day before a bath, do the treatment with the Frida Brush and then I would rub a Baby Scalp Oil (Colief) to soften the flakes on the day after the bath; I would put Vaseline on the scalp the next day and he would take a bath the next day, rinse and repeat, until the cuts were healed, and I could ditch the Vaseline step. If the cut was deep I would sometimes apply Sudocream only at night after a bath and the Vaseline was removed and he'd fallen asleep so he wouldn't take it off. He still slept with mittens inside his cuffed babygrow, but he always managed to get one or two fingers out, I kid you not when I say, that sometimes I would sleep holding his hand to prevent him from scratching his head when the wounds here at it's worst. All of these steps have contributed to has improved the cradle cap lot and eventually disappeared in about a month's time. He's going trough a second outbreak now, a year later, but no where near as bad as it was then, he's not scratching himself to death.
The Eczema situation. Right....... this situation has improved for a few good 7-8 months with the Aveeno Baby Dermexa Emollient Cream. I would use it 3 times a day or more to fight of dry skin. The areas where the skin folded were the worst. Arm folds, neck folds, behind the knees, there the eczema would install and spread, That could only be controlled an Hydrocortisoid Cream, 1% w/w. It did eventually disappeared save for one spot -- just behind the right knee. He developed a habit of scratching it with his left foot. But, lets put the Eczema situation on hold for a moment, while we talk about:
The Milk Allergy situation.... Oh Boy..... this is about to get very long.....
In my previous post made at the beginning of May 2023, I stated that my son had been to the A&E (a week before the post) for an allergic reaction to porridge, so he would either be allergic to Milk and/or Gluten. We were told a referral was done to our GP for a visit by an allergy team who would walk us through to process of slowly introducing allergens so that my son would hopefully be able to safely be exposed to them in the future and advised to "only feed him vegetables and fruit". We were given an "prescription" for an antihistamine to continue the treatment and to use as an SOS in case of another allergic reaction in the future. No allergy tests were done for my son at all.
We were told that, it would take a couple of weeks before we were contacted by the allergy team and to contact the GP after two weeks if we hadn't heard from them. We waited a month and nothing. At the end of May, I went to our GP to ask for updates on this situation. Imagine my shock when the GP told me that they didn't even have ANY information about my son being in the A&E. They've spent 1h contacting the hospital to get the paperwork from the A&E that SHOULD have been sent to our GP. In said paperwork, it states that the hospital would like the GP to sort out the allergy appointment. So, no allergy appointment had been made for an entire month and if I hadn't enquired about this situation, the GP would have had no clue about the need to make one because they didn't have the necessary paperwork! I was given an apology and scheduled an "assessment appointment" 2 days later. I enquired about an Antihistamine prescription, since my son was gonna start nursery in a couple of weeks when my maternity leave would end and I needed to provide a bottle for them in case of an allergic reaction, because we still didn't know what my son was allergic to.... Lo and behold, when the GP staff looks at the hospital paperwork, it was stated that no more antihistaminic was necessary, against what we were advised, as we should have one antihistamine as SOS, I had to press the GP to provide us with an prescription (which the lady was very quick to do after seeing me ready to implode regarding this absolute incompetence) so the nursery could have one antihistamine with themselves as we couldn't keep juggling our bottle back and forth with them.
The assessment appointment which basically consisted in 5 mins of asking for details about the allergic reaction, all of which was written in A&E's paperwork and only then being referred to a dietitian's team. I was given no ETA, no info about where it would be, no contact that I could call to at least be put on a waiting list in case of a cancellation, nothing. I was only asked to wait and when confronted, the practitioner admitted that this appointment COULD have been made straight in the hospital's A&E, instead of this ridiculous and time wasting bureaucratic football between the Hospital and the GP.
You might think this was the end of the miscommunication and incompetence.... Oh oh But no,.. of course not!! I waited another month of silence. At the end of June I called the hospital's appointment hotline enquiring about my son's appointment, only to be told that he doesn't have one because a referral hadn't been made yet! I was fuming!! I immediately called the GP who have assured me that a referral has been sent to the hospital's Paediatric and gave me it's referral number and they would enquire....
If you are in the UK like I am and you see that your baby/child is being ignored by your GP / Hospital and not getting the appropriate care, then do as I did and contact PALS near your area. That was the best piece of advice that I have received from people at my local breastfeeding group, and if being a mother has taught me anything, is that sometimes, you will have to be a momma bear (aka Karen to the eyes of the target) and advocate for your child. I work in retail, I despise Karens and I have no wish to be one, I am usually a pushover. But I will not allow anyone to trample on my son's health. And while I do have respect for the NHS, seeing has my brother in law works there, I know damn well, by his own words, that the main problem is not the lack of funds, but the pockets where they go and the terrible disorganization.
At that point I had enough of excuses and I made a complaint to PALS about both the GP and the Hospital. My son was almost 9months and still breastfeeding but eating mostly Vegetables and Fruit as solid food as per A&E'S guidelines, delaying his weaning and feeding development and causing stress with the nursery and our family as we didn't know what he was allergic to and couldn't move on to full meals. I flat out asked them if they were intent on my son completing an entire year of life being fed only Vegetables and Fruit besides breastmilk, and called them out because an 8 month baby should not be put on the back burner over and over again due to the incredibly poor communication between these two organizations and have his health jeopardized. I demanded a resolution ASAP and forward this to the Paediatrician as I did not trust the hospital to be able clearly communicate between their departments and whom I suspected had not been told absolutely nothing regarding all this. Two days later the allergy team specialist rang me to personally and profusely apologise and take the situation under her control and give me her allergy guidelines which I should have been given since the beginning. I was still forced to wait until early July for a allergy test - Milk was found to be the culprit.
I still thank everything that I had enough perseverance to stick with breastfeeding and never, ever, though to look at formula. I tremble to think about the consequences, Even though I'm aware that dairy free formulas exist, me being a 1st time ignorant mother, chances were I could have picked a wrong one. Fortunately I produced more than enough milk and my son had a good latch. Also because my son was not making any allergic reactions to my milk, this meant there was a higher chance that he could grow out of his allergy, as he was still getting enzymes from the dairy that I consumed. From here on, food introduction was a breeze. He's a real foodie, he loves to eat and he loves to eat with us. Adapting our diet was a bit of work, as I have IBS and my husband is diabetic so there might be some foods that will be a trigger or might not be the most ideal to someone in our family, but we managed to strike a good balance. Vegan options do help and we are having fun exploring that.
The problems then came with the nursery. After letting them know that my son was allergic to milk and other things were fine, the cases of allergic reaction in the nursery stated to increase and he started getting very bad reactions. First we suspected cross contamination, then that he might be allergic to something else, but the foods they were saying he was allergic to made absolutely no sense as he was just fine having those at home. We came to the conclusion after several events in the softplay area - that involved no food at all - that the culprit might be their cleaning products and further pressed after two different members of staff said they themselves were allergic to that product - Milton. After several bickerings between us and the nursery and us visiting our origin country for Xmas where my son ate in 4 different household and 5 different restaurant with absolutely no allergy reaction (in comparing to the then daily cases of reaction on the 3 days that he stayed at nursery), we finally convinced the nursery to change their cleaning products - they are now using Sanell. In addiction to prevent cross contamination, my son was given his own high chair, that no other child uses. Happy to say the cases of allergy are nearly non-existent now. His recent blood results also came back with amazingly good improvements, so we got the thumbs up from the Allergy Team and the Paediatrician to start the milk ladder and slowly and gradually adding milk to his diet. Currently he's in stage one and having half a teaspoon of malted milk biscuit daily with no reaction. It will probably still be able two months until he can have a full biscuit, but I can't wait to see his smile when we get to this stage - he loves taking the little piece of my hand.
Because of the back and forth with the nursery and them insisting that the allergic reaction could be due to other foods, the allergy team at the hospital was more concerned with that than his Eczema situation. We had to insist about it, since we suspected the reactions might be Eczema instead, stating that I was still waiting for the promised skin specialist appointment since end of April last year. The lead Team Speciallist, again showed her amazing professionalism and chased up the situation and we finally got our appointment jointly with her and the skin specialist in January of this year. She gave us a few products to try but said that the Eczema situation was relatively controlled. The samples that she gave were:

• Dermol 500 Lotion - we still use this for his bath as a soap substitute
  
• Adex Gel - kind like an emollient cream, it was ok-ish
  
• Cetraben Cream - didn't seem to make any difference, but can also be used as a soap substitute so we'll give it a go after Dermol is finished
  
• Zerodearm Ointment - didn't seem to make any difference, but it has a Vaseline like quality to it, so might try again
  

About a week after the appointment, my Son had an mild outbreak of Eczema on his legs. We tried several combinations of above products that seemed to temporally control the situation but didn't complete solve it. In Early March of this year the Eczema appeared in his back. He has a huge red birthmark the size of my hand on his back, so that skin is very sensitive. He started to scratch and rub his back against things and it didn't took long to break the skin. It didn't bleed but it was oozing/weeping which would make the skin get stuck to his clothes and then get raw, so no treatment was going to work on that as it would slide off with the oozing/weeping. I despaired then as I had a year ago.
So I went back to the thing that worked last time - Vaseline. This time though, it was on a place that I couldn't exactly leave uncovered. My son was about to do some blood tests so hospital had given us numb cream to put on the inside of his elbows and some clear medical film. He had this done before and I remembered that the film had been resistant enough to keep the cream in and didn't hurt his skin, so I though, maybe I could apply the same theory. So I bought some clear medical film (Tegaderm Film), put a good chunk of Vaseline on the wound and sealed it with the film. I changed this twice or three times a day, depending if he was in the nursery or not. It worked like a charm and it allowed the skin to heal. For reference, the nursery manager, whose son suffers with really bad eczema has suggested me the AproDerm Ointment which also has a Vaseline consistency to it, but my son's situation cleared up before I had to use it.
The skin specialist by then had prescribed a treatment with another hydrocortisoid cream ( Daktacort 2% 1% w/w, needs to be kept refridgerated ) and an emollient cream - Epimax Oatmeal Cream. For the other patches of Eczema (that were not in wound), I would use Daktacord, once in the morning, once in the evening, and I would use Epimax to keep the skin moisturized along the day, whenever I would change a diaper. The skin specialist told us to keep using Daktacord twice a day for a week, then drop it to once a day on the following week, and then drop it to every other day on the week after. This has worked brilliantly and it solved all Eczema patches, including the stubborn one behind his right knee, We were able to drop the Daktacord and we now only use the Epimax emollient regularly about twice a day.
Thank you if you have read everything so far, I hope you have found something that could be of use to you. Happy to answer any questions that you might have, or if you're feeling desperate like I was and just need some reassurance, just drop me message!

I was verbally and emotionally abused by my mother my entire life. I was expected to give back massages everyday and be her caregiver when she got sick all while she continued to abuse me. I was screamed at continuously.
I feel my entire life was robbed from me. I honestly don't know how to be a normal person, and I don't have any real life experiences that others my age have. I don't have friends. I tend to isolate as a trauma response so I distance myself from people. I delete my social media without telling anyone and eventually people give up on me. I was diagnosed with severe depression and PTSD.
My sisters also abused me over the last 4 years. They became closer and shared similar views that opposed mine and started ostracizing and making targeted jabs towards me. I began to isolate because of this and I became very paranoid. They ruined my birthday last year and now whenever there's a birthday I get very depressed.
I've tried to move out on numerous occasions, but my family would always guilt trip me into staying, only to endure more suffering. They need me, they can't afford rent without me, etc. They would go back to treating me like crap as soon as they realized I was staying. I just feel that if they needed me as much as they do then they would have considered my well-being.
I decided to move out this July and once again there's push back. They have been crying and showing remorse for what they have done to me and asked me to have mercy on them and stay until next May because my sister would be able to afford a better house. In addition to that, my mother is very ill. We think she may have cancer. Considering that, I'm not heartless and I understand their logic completely.
However, it's really unhealthy for me to be here because I am constantly being triggered by awful memories. I feel that I need to leave on my own terms because I've been a doormat for so long. I found a room for rent in a really expensive area. I'd have my own bathroom and access to a giant pool with a waterfall. There's lots of nature around and a lake nearby. I can just see my life being so much better. I can see myself actually healing.
Should I take this chance and move out, or stay? My mom's always been sick but her health is deteriorating rapidly. That's what's holding me back. As awful as my family has been to me, I still love them and don't want to leave them in dire straights.

I lived in various countries till I was 18 and I came back to my home country the same year and I'm living here up till now. I was raised in a family where my parents are both non-English speakers but me myself used English at school and with my friends. In casual talks, I'm okay with both. I am more comfortable studying and giving public speeches in English. Technically, if I go by order, English is my second language. But I started feel a discrepancy between my first language and my second language ever since I came back to my home country. I realized when it comes to academics English is my dominant language. So if I consider speaking both languages in both casual and formal settings, English would cover both while my first language would only cover the first case. But I am not quite familiar with idioms or colloquialism in English. I always identified myself as a native to my country and I am quite sure I also culturally align with my country as well. BUT I consider my language identity is English for I am more comfortable expressing and organizing thoughts. in it.
In an effort to seek an answer to this, I asked ChatGPT to evaluate my language proficiency of both languages. It said that based on the conversations we had for the past two days, it came to a conclusion that English is NOT my first language (ofc I shouldn't trust it completely). But the thing is that it made the judgement based on the fact that I spoke too formally and directly in a manner that native speakers wouldn't do in a casual conversation. But wouldn't the level of formality further prove that you are more proficient and fluent in that language? Do you think this is a valid reason to judge whether certain language is their mother tongue or not? As I mentioned in the earlier paragraph, I don't use many idiomatic expressions when I use English. But just because of that, does that make English my second language? What do you think?

Hey, just wanted to come here and share my story. I am 20-year-old (F). Last year in July, I came across a guy (30M) on an app. We shared same ethnicity but he was living abroad for past decade. We matched, we clicked and I thought this was the man I had been looking for all my life. He seemed so sweet, fun to talk and charming. One thing that pulled me toward him was his respectful and polite attitude towards me (this was big for me since I am coming from a rough childhood), he used to call me 'Miss', respected my opinions, shared his own without making me feel uncomfortable and we were kind of cloning each other. Our beliefs and moral values seemed very similar.
We talked for about two weeks and it was a detailed discussion on life and how we view it. Later on, he told me he was looking for something serious and I, who is coming from traditional muslim culture, wanted nothing more than a serious relationship (marriage). So he sent a proposal my home, his family came and met my family (that is how it happens in our culture). My family was little hesitant because we did have some cultural differences but I wasn't too noisy about it. Long story short, we got engaged in the following September. He couldn't come so his mother fulfilled his duty that was to slip the ring on my finger. After the ceremony I video-called him, excited, and told him about the day and expressed how happy I am. I was expecting something, maybe a little spark in his eyes or something sweet to say but he wasn't reciprocating the enthusiasm. He only smiled and talked a few and that's it. Oftentimes I felt like he wasn't expressing enough but I never let my head go south. I always gave myself an explanation for his actions. Everything was going fine until he had to come to his home country for his father's surgery. During those times, I did my best to remain supportive, empathetic. I gave him space, stood beside him, cheered him up.
A few days before the surgery, he decided to meet me out of a blue and yes, this was our first physical interaction. I was in uni when he told me and like every other girl, I wanted our first meeting to be special. For those who are unfamiliar of muslim traditions, it is not permissible to meet alone before nikkah (the marriage ceremony). So my family wanted someone with us and I wasn't much in favour of it. I knew my boundaries and just wanted to have some good time with him. Therefore, I asked him to reschedule so I can convince my family to allow us to meet in a public place. He, on the other hand, got furious because I asked him to reschedule. I felt bad for breaking him as he said he was excited to meet me and he needed me the most in hard times like these. I felt guilty but the next day, we met. He came to my home to pick me up, had a chat with my family. My family (uncle and aunt since I'm living with them after my parents' divorce) allowed us to have dinner.
During the dinner date, I was nervous. My body felt shivers and I couldn't understand whether it was from excitement or anxiousness. He was driving quite rashly, I am also a driver so the reckless driving didn't scare me, i trusted him on this but I knew something about him was the reason behind my sweaty palms. I just couldn't spot it. We remained silent throughout the drive, I wanted to speak and I tried to initiate but he kept it short. Only music was filling the silence. We reached to a mall and I was observing whether he will open the door for me but to my surprise, he didn't. Instead he walked ahead of me. Watching him speeding off didn't leave a good feeling in my chest. He wanted a coffee so we went to get one. I didn't get anything for myself because all of a sudden I wasn't hungry anymore and also I forgot my wallet at home and my self respect didn't allow me to get anything. He ordered a burger for himself and shared some bites with me. I noticed he didn't pull out a chair for me nor did he let me step in and out of elevator first. Throughout the eating process, he remained silent and looked around. I felt awkward as I am lively person and this was the man I wanted to talk to the most. It was just an awkward silence that I wasn't expecting to be a part of our first date at all. He didn't feel like the man I was talking to on phone. That man was responsive, kind. This was just something else.
We went back to the car, again him leading and I following him in heels. Just when I was putting seatbelt on, he kissed me. It was my first kiss and he totally caught me off guard. Right after that he gave me a smug smile. He kissed me again and I was long lost to react on anything. It was a lot. I wanted to stop him but my feelings for him got a hold on me. I regretted that but I couldn't stop it. After dropping me home, he left a text "I had a great time with you". Whereas, I was convincing myself that I had a good time as well. I felt awful sharing my first kiss with him because I wanted intimacy after marriage because that is how Allah SWT has commanded it. but then and there, I couldn't function properly to resist.
After that we didn't talk much about this dinner but a question remained in my mind, "how did he find me?" because to me, he was handsome and I was strongly attracted to him but I never got the clarity on how did I look to him, especially after spending time with him I got more curious. I offered him my support during the tough time and chose not to ask him the question. After his father's surgery, he kept forcing me to have lunches with him and i had without my family's knowing. After our every meet-up the question began eating my head a little more. Finally, after some days I decided to ask the question. To which he got mad. He blamed me for stressing him and accusing him of not liking me even though I just meant to ask him if he liked me. I needed reassurance but he got defensive and "warned" me that my fears and overthinking will ruin our relationship. That was the first stroke that hit my heart and I couldn't believe what happened with me. I felt horrible and cried myself to sleep The next day he acted completely normal and love-bombed me as if nothing happened. I remained silent to avoid conflict.
A few days later, he asked me to accompany him to his home that was in another city (his father's surgery took place in my city and they were in hospital). Now keeping the society where we both belong from, this was a big problem and more than that, Allah wouldn't like it. I refused him and over this he got furious again, blaming me for not wanting to spend time with him. I understood he lived his life in a western country but he knew his culture better than me, his family was far stricter in their customs than mine was and only if they had known that i visited their house before marriage alone with their son, it would have been a hell for me. It was wrong in every sense and I stayed with my decision. Later on, he asked me to meet him for the last time before he left. A day before the meeting, he started joking about having a fetish of having sex with a teenager. I brushed it as a joke (it was bothering me) until he directed it on me and when I asked him to wait for a year as we were to get married, he reasoned that I wouldn't be a teenager anymore and he could not wait that long. I confronted him about feeling manipulated and he got defensive. Long story short, he went back and after some times, he started noticing my silence. He asked me about it and I mustered courage and told him my concerns. He listened to me quietly, didn't react like he normally had done but complained that I hurt him. For which I did feel bad as I never wanted to hurt him.
Now the reason why I wrote this whole story was because he was a totally different man during the first third months of our conversation. He portrayed to be a knight in shining armour. His words held so much meaning and after a long time, I chose to believe. He promised he would be the most understanding and patient person in my life. He felt like my saviour, my best friend and reason to live everyday. I suffered from parental neglect/absence and chronic loneliness and his promises healed my wounds but when he acted contrary to his words, I used to get confused. I loved him, madly that even after five months of no contact, I still wake up and sleep to his thoughts. He has moved on and found someone else but I am back to my lonely self, holding my broken pieces and working on my career. I am sportsperson so I mostly keep myself busy with my things. I felt like i was in a trauma bond but still again, sometimes I feel due to my past traumas, I lost a good man. He made me believe so with his love bombing. I got addicted to him as he was the only source of my happiness. but I knew it has to end because he disrespected my grandfather and mother because they saw the same signs in my father even though I didn't tell them enough. I didn't believe them until circumstances forced me to. Can you guys tell me what have you gotten from my story because I need to hear it from external sources.
And before anyone judges me for persuading my family to let me meet the guy alone, I need to make it clear that I am single parent child with minimum interaction with my both of my parents. I had been on my own for most of the part and I am used of things that way, it is not by choice. Though, I am a practicing muslim and try my best to please Allah SWT. I made mistakes under the love spell. I would ask you refrain from judging my character and state your opinions in a respectful manner. That'd be great help.

A wurm is an earth dragon, with a lower half like that of a lamia. She can't fly, and she's a little ditzy, but she's plenty lovable.
Guide to the script:
(words in italics): Suggested sound effects
(words not in italics): Voice cues and narration
Uaagh: Sleepy wurm
Eeeek: Happy wurm
It's okay to monetize this script, make minor edits to it and genderflip it. Please note that the sound effects are optional.
Script length: About 1.5K words
It's strange. I used to read a lot of monster girl stories before I got into ASMR. I don't do that anymore, but on some days, I'll remember a scene or a sentence from one of those stories. And then I'll want to write.
For the listener:
You return home from work to see your wurm girlfriend coiled up by herself in her ‘pillow fort’. A cold, fierce storm is raging outside and you know how much the thunder scares her. So the two of you snuggle up together and gossip, just the way things should be.
...
SCRIPT:

(Thunderstorm ambience. Rain and low rumbling of thunder are heard.)
Uaagh. Where were you?
I was worried you were stuck somewhere. I was about to go look for you, but you told me not to go outside on my own.
I know. People are afraid of me. Because I can smash through buildings. But I was worried. What took you so long?
Oh. The trains got delayed because of the thunderstorm?
Are you alright at least? (Sniffing) I do not smell any injury on you.
Good. Will you help me sleep? I couldn’t sleep because of the thunder. And I wanted snuggles. I missed you.
I get stressed when I can’t coil around you. And when I get stressed, I get hungry. So I ate all the chicken we had. But I still can’t sleep.
(Ruffling of sheets and pillows)
Yay! Let me coil around you. I can already feel your warmth.
(Coiling sounds)
Mmnnh. You’re so warm. How do you do it? How are you so warm?
Oh. Because humans are warm blooded. Yes, you told me earlier. But I forgot. Sorry.
Yes. You also told me not to apologise. Sorry.
Hmm? Why are you shaking your head? Is there an enemy present in this room?
That’s it, isn’t it? Where are they? I cannot see them. Are they hiding in the wall? Should I tear it down?
Oh. I did tear it down last week. But that’s because I thought you were trapped inside! I heard you calling from the other room but your voice was so faint and you were taking so long. I thought you needed help!
Are you mad at me?
(Sighing) You always say that. That you can never be mad at me. But I am not sure. You never take me outside with you. This morning, I saw some pigeons on the lawn and I went to say hi to them. I even used the doorknob this time instead of smashing through the door. I was really gentle. But the pigeons all flew away when they saw me coming.
It’s not just the birds. I wanted to know why the pigeons were scared of me, and so I asked a human who was walking outside. I only asked him why the birds flew away. But he ran away from me too. I just scare everyone away.
I don’t scare you?
Yeah*. (Coiling tighter)* You’re the only one who doesn’t run away from me. Even though I’m a monster.
No. I am a monster. I attacked you when we first met. I shouldn’t have done that. Friendly wurms don’t attack people.
I know. It was....instinct. That’s the word you used. When I saw you outside my cave, I-I wanted you. I’d never seen anything like you before. And so I just took you. I wouldn’t let you out of my coils! I know it was scary for you. I am sorry.
Yeah. I did agree to move into your house after that. Because I didn’t care as long as I had you. And because you said there’d be chicken. I like chicken.
Eeeek! I like it when you stroke my hair. It’s so soothing. It makes me want to snuggle up closer to you.
(Coiling sounds)
Thank you. For holding me. I don’t like thunder. The sound scares me. I can’t go to sleep when there’s a storm outside. Unless you’re with me.
Yeah. The thunder can’t hurt me. Because it’s far away. And because I’m a wurm. Wurms are strong! I think I’d be okay, if I was in my ancient form. Then I’d be an earth dragon as big as this house! But the thunder still scares me.
Human?
What causes thunder?
Lightning? You mean those bright flashes in the sky before that horrible noise?
Oh. I didn’t know they were called lightning. What is lightning made of?
Plaaz-ma. Ion….Ionized air. I don’t know what they are.
I saw those flashes of light before I met you, of course. I thought it was another dragon challenging me to a fight. And I was terrified of its roar. But I still tried looking for that dragon every time there was a thunderstorm.
Yeah. Because I thought that dragon could be my mother. Maybe she could fly and she was calling me to join her in the sky. But I don’t have wings.
Wurms can’t fly. But I didn’t know anything about mother. When I hatched, I was alone in the wild. There was nothing that looked like me. And there were no humans. No one to teach me how to fend for myself. I went hungry for the first few days and it was cold. It would rain often. I’d hide under a bush but my tail would still get wet. But the thunder was the scariest thing of all. I’d cover my ears with my claws but I’d still hear it. I didn’t know what to do.
Human, why do you look sad? That expression means you’re sad, right? You taught me that. Did I get it right this time?
You’re sad for what I had to go through? But it’s okay. It made me a strong wurm! I learnt how to catch prey, and how to protect myself from the weather by curling up in a cave. And if there was a spring deep inside the cave, then I could also stay warm!
Eeeek! You’re brushing my hair again. That feels nice. I’m so glad I met you in the forest. You’re the first human I ever saw. You’re special. You taught me how to use cutlery, and that I shouldn’t eat the plate along with the chicken. I’m sorry it took me a while to get that one right.
I forgot. You told me not to apologise. I’m sorry.
You’re sighing again. That means I messed up somehow, didn’t I? But I did as you asked! I didn’t leave the house today. I didn’t go outside because I didn’t want to scare any more humans after the first one ran away. I know I can be a burden. I’ve seen how people look at you when you try to defend me. It’s not much different from how they look at me when they think I’ve eaten their chicken or silverware. But I don’t do that. Not after you taught me it was wrong.
I wish I could go outside with you. I wish I wasn’t such a burden.
(Sighing) I know. You always say I’m not a burden. And you get really sad when I keep insisting. I don’t like seeing you sad.
It is true though that I don’t think like a human. I’m not as smart as most humans. But I....I’m not dumb. You always tell me I’m not dumb. And maybe you’re right.
I know if you have money, then you won’t be hungry. I know if you help strangers for free, then you’re kind. And kind people make for good friends. I know a good friend doesn’t leave you alone when it rains and thunders. I know the property of rain is to wet my scales, and of the sun to dry them. I know it gets dark at night because there is no sun, and pigeons can fly because they have wings. And I know something inside me hurts when you leave the house, but the hurt goes away when you come back to me.
I have to hide during the day because I’m not human. People are scared of me. But at night, when no one is looking, I can go outside with you. Slither beside you. Really quietly. And we can count how many streetlamps there are.
I do not know what face you’re making, human. I didn’t make you sad again, did I?
Eeeek! That must mean no. Are you happy with me? Do I make you happy?
Eeeeeek! You make me happy too. I want to try brushing your hair like you brush mine. One of these days....
No, I’m not cold anymore. You always keep me warm. And in the morning, all the pillows smell like you (giggling). Thank you for teaching me how to build a giant pillow fort! It’s just like my cave, but even comfier.
(Yawning) Uaagh. I think I can go to sleep now. The thunder can’t hurt me. (very softly) The thunder can’t hurt me. I have you with me.
Human?
You won’t run away from me, right?
(A brief kiss, as the listener reassures her)
I like it when you kiss me. Eeeek! You make me the happiest wurm in the world! I’ll...I’ll always protect you, okay? I won’t let anyone invade our pillow fort.
Good night. Can we get more chicken tomorrow? I want to eat chicken tomorrow.
Yay! I’ll go with you to the market. The shopkeeper gave us extra last time when he saw me. I don’t know why. I was hungry but I wasn’t going to eat him.
Yeah. I really do feel sleepy now. Good night, human.
Dar....Darling. Sweet dreams.
I love you too. Eeeek.