♪ I'm still a believer but I don't know why I've never been a natural All I do is try, try, try I'm still on that trapeze I'm still trying everything To keep you looking at me
Because I'm a mirrorball I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself Tonight ♫
BASICS.
full name: robin lilian martin-chang
age + birthday: twenty-eight | 04/15/1992
gender + pronouns: cis female | she/her
sexual & romantic orientations: pansexual/romantic
hometown: somerton, maine / vancouver, british columbia
occupation: graphic designer / digital artist
personality traits: independent, creative, open-minded, impatient, guarded, lazy.
looks like: chloe bennet
FAMILY.
mother: lily chang
father.: chuck martin
siblings: aiden martin ( step brother, 8 )
other important relationships: stacey martin ( step mother ), wei-ling chang ( maternal grandmother )
pets: timon & pumba, her fur babies.
CHARACTER.
wester zodiac: aries
chinese zodiac: monkey
primal sign: gorilla
hogwarts: hufflepuff, but she thinks she’s a ravenclaw
one song: we’re all in this together - hsm, and she will belt it at you bc she’s annoying
one book: oh the places you’ll go! - dr. seuss
one movie: the parent trap, bby robin had many dreams about running into a lost twin and switching places okay?
BIOGRAPHY.
tw: divorce
Lily Chang and Chuck Martin had no business falling in love, but in the early 90′s at a karaoke bar in Somerton, Maine - that was precisely what happened. The relationship was doomed from the start -- a walking dad joke wrapped in a sweater vest and woman strung higher than her up-do would have very little in common once the thrill of young love wore off -- but hindsight is a fickle thing, and youth has a funny way of blinding what is right in front of your eyes. It wasn’t long after the first meeting that the couple would find themselves married, and then welcoming a daughter into the world who would someday serve as the only proof the two ever got along.
Still, compatibility issues aside, her parents gave it a real go and for the first seven years of her life, Robin had a real family. Family dinners around the table, Saturday morning cartoons with her dad, and road trips to her mother’s favorite East Coast landmarks. But the facade could only last so long and so the summer before she was meant to start the second grade at Grant Elementary, her parents made the difficult decision to call it quits. Looking back at it through adult eyes, Robin would see the cracks in the foundation -- the petty fights and cold silences that seemed to rule their household -- but at seven years old sitting on a chair staring down at skinned knees listening to the two people she trusted the most tell her their little family was breaking up she felt her whole world crumble around her. It just wasn’t fair! Despite loud protests and heartfelt pleas, by the end of the week Robin found herself packing up her bedroom and leaving the only home she’d ever known in favor of moving west with her mother who had secured a job at the University of British Columbia.
From that point on her childhood felt divided -- splitting time between her parents' homes on opposite coasts. Summers spent eating lobster and laughing at her dad’s dumb jokes in Maine and forced ski lessons with her mom when what she really wanted to do was snowboard back in BC. And for a time, it was manageable. But everyone has a breaking point, and for Robin that was puberty.
It seemed to happen overnight. The status quo shifted -- one day mother and daughter were compromising about take away order and the next they couldn’t agree on anything. And just like that, their small condo became a battleground. Something about hormones and teen angst seems to cause friction between mothers and their daughters and Robin was no exception to this cliche. As she grew the realities of her childhood set in and Robin became bitter, pinning an unfair bulk of the blame on her mother and this expressed itself through a rebellious streak come high school. Once a straight-A student, Robin was now skipping classes to smoke under the bleachers and stealing bottles from the liquor cabinet to go drink with her friends in the park. It was clear her mom was in over her head, and with all modes of communication closed off she felt had no options left but to send Robin back to Somerton to live full time with her dad and though Robin agreed it was what she wanted, deep down it really hurt. She felt like her mom given up on her and it’s a wound their relationship hasn’t ever recovered from.
Adjusting to a new school at sixteen was difficult -- most cliques had been solidified, friendships formed over a lifetime and Robin felt there was little room for her to insert herself and with the bulk of her support group living on the other side of the continent, those first few months were a bit isolating. But eventually, Robin found her footing. She made some friends, slowed down on the partying and found solace in art and music.
As with most things in her life, when it came to secondary education, Robin chose the easiest path. She went to Somerton University because it was close and despite her dodgy school records they accepted her, majored in graphic design because it was easy and she liked computers and forwent dorm living in favor of renting her dad’s basement apartment because it was familiar.
Robin lived in that apartment until she was twenty-four when her dad got remarried. She’d saved enough living there to have a sizeable safety net and she wanted to give the new couple some space. She loved her dad but didn’t want to risk the emotional scarring of walking in on him and his new wife canoodling. Despite initial reservations, Robin bonded pretty quickly with her new stepmother and her four-year-old son.
Now that Robin works a stable 9 to 5 she has less time to get into trouble -- but between being a proud dog mom, Sunday dinners with the family and watching her little brother once a week to give her parents a break she manages to find some time. Of course, today trouble looks more like running a semi-famous comic on the internet based on her dogs Timon and Pumba which anthropomorphizes her little beans and sees them maneuvering life’s everyday problems, usually with humorous results.