Mostly Harmless @arathesane - Tumblr Blog

Doonesbury, February, 6, 1975, Garry Trudeau.

#2020 mood #self-reblog #posting content for a party of one #doonesbury #garry trudeau #I bought a print of this for myself #as an early Christmas present

tylrgalpins

DERRY GIRLS | 2.05 - The Prom

#fandom #derry girls

sheryl-lee

Once you're in business with somebody, you're in business with them for life. Like a marriage. Til death do you part.

Twin Peaks (1990–1991) 1.08 – The Last Evening dir. Mark Frost

#fandom #twin peaks

holyantenna

Lianne La Havas

#art #lianne la havas #haven’t listened to lianne in a long time

tmbgareok

#tmbg

shamebats

Gendered parenting is so weird. As a little kid I was a total daddy's girl, I was told I would always try to sneak into the garage, I was always very interested in everything he was doing and would follow him around while he was working, but while my family was never the type to outright say "you can't do that because you're a girl", they simply didn't entertain the idea that I could possibly be interested in cars. Then when my little brother was born, it was just assumed he would become a mechanic like our dad because he was a boy. Even though he, unlike me, didn't like being in the garage much and wasn't all that interested in what dad was doing. Once he got to a certain age, dad started making him help and would drag him away from his actual interests for it, which lead to a lot of arguing and not much actual learning.

Gendered expectations sort of create doubles of children. There's the real child with their actual personality, interests and behaviors, and then there's the Gender Child.

My real brother hated soccer and team sports. The Gender Child that existed only the minds of the adults in his life needed to play soccer because that's what a Boy Child does.

Growing up, I always felt like adults didn't actually know me as a person and they weren't interested in getting to know me. Because they felt they'd already learned everything there was to know about me when they were told "it's a girl".

When I talk about how I never got gifts I actually liked from my relatives (to this day I still don't like getting gifts that aren't something I picked out myself), it isn't actually about the gifts themselves. I don't even remember them. What I do remember is the feeling of being given gifts that were seemingly not bought with the real me in mind. They were for the Girl Child™️ version of me. The me that adults wanted me to be, not who I actually was.