Being The “eldest Daughter” Is Nauseating And I Wouldn’t Wish This Experience On Anyone

Ewan Fernie, The Demonic: Literature and Experience

i blog for girls who are plagued by loneliness despite being overall well liked

quiver lover

anyways

We fold the sheets as we argue facing each other, we eat soup in identical bowls, shes sitting on the sofa while i sit on the floor looking anywhere but at each other. I listen to her talk softly to my niece a minute after she scolds me for not ironing her clothes properly. And yet the sadness i feel can only be healed by a mothers love. Its sicken and sadening.

No one talks about the transition from being the girl everyone respected too much to come forward to and the girl that everyone desires. To feel like you are never someone's first choice, just a woman they would eventually settle for. To never be the girl they passionately, intensely ache for. To be the one they're afraid to taint. The one they will compromise with. To be the girl that becomes the mother of their child, but never their love.

And suddenly, suddenly you're the girl of their desires. The one with a free spirit and reckless behaviors and self-sabotaging actions. The one that hates herself so much, she throttles her own soul to fit an ideal image of what a man yearns for. To be savage and soft, simultaneously. To gaze at a man like a siren and never admit to being hurt.

No one talks about how you slowly feel both of these girls within you amalgamate. So achingly, so abruptly, you feel yourself spiralling out of control. You jump, face first, infront of a moving train, you wrench your heart inside of your chest. You swallow the thought of not being loved. There is a perpetual knock at the base of your mind of someone burning to come out, to be heard, to be felt, to be accepted.

You either become the trophy wife, or the girl they never wed. No one talks about girls like us.

And also when Edgar Allan Poe said— "Tell me every terrible thing you did, and let me love you anyway."

My favourite character: smokes, drinks, reads greek and other dead languages, keeps a latin diary, kills someone by punching their collarbone, weaves an intricate web of lies and plot to escape jail, kisses his unrequited love and then shoots himself.

Me: now I know what Wilde meant when he said 'You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.'

Like or reblog if you think it is creepy when a parent sexualizes their child's clothing.