When someone mentions how Lois ca-
Lois: ARMY BRAT!
-n handle herself.

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When someone mentions how Lois ca-
Lois: ARMY BRAT!
-n handle herself.
I hate when people act as if I “talk too much” about things that made or make me who I am today. I hate it so much. yes, I talk about it a lot, but with reason.
I’m an army brat.
I’m a child of divorce.
I’m disabled.
I’m queer.
I’m trans.
I’m a DID system host.
I’m transpecies.
I’m delusional / experience hallucinations and delusions.
these are ALL part of who I am. things I shouldn’t have to be ashamed of, things that affected or still do affect my day to day life. things I cannot change, things you cannot change. Im sorry if they don’t fit what you want to think of me, but I cannot help it. I will not be ashamed of who I am. I am me.
The Sherman House at Ft Sill, Oklahoma
Source Me laf@ilyF 💜
I would genuinely start tweaking if my kid joined jrotc
This is the motto of my house.
Hyper Specific Poll Time
my dad is a pastor from the deep south
my mom was a mechanic/in the army for 20+ years
my grandmother was smuggled out of east germany
worked at a polling place
all the boys I've dated were eagle scouts
queer + religious
learned to quilt as a tween/teen
picked my career path in kindergarten and stuck to it
diet soda dependency because sugar made me hyper as a kid
bitch too specific (none of these)
What is home for an army brat?
In yet another interesting conversation with my best friend, we were just casually talking about how our life has been through the years. We’ve known each other for almost two decades, and gone through various stages of life together - from school to college to jobs, from cycling around the city to road-tripping together - we’ve done it all. We’re both army brats, so we’ve lived a similar life - moved to a new place every few years, made new friends, left old ones behind, built a new life all over again, got comfortable, moved again - repeat! Every time we’d move, we’d pack our entire life, things that got us comfort - our corner table, table lamp, bookshelf or just a gift from a friend we made at school. Our temporary ‘home’ would be safely packed in a few trunks, those trunks would carry our home and sometimes also turn into makeshift furniture, with numbers on them ready to be set up in a whole new way in a different city, in a different ‘home’. We’d sometimes move from a big city to a smaller one or the other way round, from north to south or east to west, hills to plains or change houses within the city. The only thing that remained constant was us seeking a ‘home’ everywhere we went.
We didn’t know what ‘home’ meant to us, we never really thought about it then. Was it the fact that we’d feel butterflies after learning about the new place we’d be moving to or was it that pit we felt in our stomach? What made the butterflies & the pit even more notable? The fact that we were moving to a new home or the one that meant leaving our last home behind? I guess we’ll never know.
Home. We do know what it means to us now, we do know where to find it! :)
#home #thelabyrinthlog #armykids #indianarmy #armybrats
ACCESSING STUDENT DATABASE . . .
FOUND: JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES.
SOPHOMORE ARMY BRAT, SCIENCE/HISTORY MAJOR.
Class: Wealthy. Attitude: Fuck around and find out.
NOTES:
- Raised on an army base.
- Qualified for officer.
- Came out as gay.
- Dropped out of the army.
- Pursued career in history and science.
ATTRIBUTES:
- ‘Badboy’ Archetype.
- Rebelious.
- Cocky.
- Confident.
- Romantic.
- Rich.