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  <channel>
    <title>BehindClosedDoors &amp;mdash; Rawen&#39;s Musings</title>
    <link>https://rawiwoof.writeas.com/tag:BehindClosedDoors</link>
    <description>An insight into a random certified idiot :p on the Interwebs</description>
    <pubDate>Sun, 08 Nov 2026 16:42:47 +0000</pubDate>
    <image>
      <url>https://i.snap.as/sCWdvUgJ.png</url>
      <title>BehindClosedDoors &amp;mdash; Rawen&#39;s Musings</title>
      <link>https://rawiwoof.writeas.com/tag:BehindClosedDoors</link>
    </image>
    <item>
      <title>Behind closed doors ... Blood family gave me life but Found family made me human</title>
      <link>https://rawiwoof.writeas.com/behind-closed-doors-blood-family-gave-me-life-but-found-family-made-me-human?pk_campaign=rss-feed</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[Woof’s feeling a little sentimental again and well, the title says it all. What prompted it? A quote-response from Raigho to an “at the first glance silly” post. The response reads:&#xA;&#xA;---&#xA;&#xA;Friends that feel more like family. They have your back and they always make you feel at ease the minute you&#39;re around them.&#xA;&#xA;I&#39;ll always value people like that.&#xA;&#xA;---&#xA;&#xA;It made me remember how I value people that got me through the hardest times, despite their own hardships. And how big has the rift between me and my bloodline become over the course of time. I know one of them will probably read this and put in the effort to understand it. And maybe the question will come up: “Why didn’t you say something?” Why? Because I never felt safe to do so. Because I haven’t felt I’d be trusted and understood and I sadly still don’t believe I ever will. Otherwise I wouldn’t need to write these lines.&#xA;&#xA;!--more--&#xA;&#xA;Those who follow me for longer and/or have known me closer already know that the relationship with my family isn’t exactly all sunshine and rainbows. Like, the parents aren’t together anymore and haven’t been for at least a decade at the time of writing. Trips “home” haven’t felt like coming back for a long time to a point where I actively avoid them to save myself the anxiety and anguish of having to spend time with my father in the same place. Visiting my mum, while understanding, feels empty, void of the safety one would and should get. I think everyone in a similar place would seek a kindred soul. Someone who can create that place of home. After all, the saying “home is where your heart is” exists for a reason. I sometimes even called myself “homeless” for the reasons mentioned. Not because don’t have a roof over my head but because I don’t feel “home” anywhere. A little doodle from Furo captures the mood well. And with my blood family being the way they are, the word “orphan” comes up as well.&#xA;&#xA;Back to the post that originated this train of thought and the title of my ramblings. How did all of this come up? Because there in fact is someone who has become my found family in that exact sense. I won’t say their name to protect their privacy (those who were with me for some time however probably know who I mean). The person I’m talking about very much fulfils the “made me human” part. How? Just like my SO made me realise I’m not made of stone as much as I spent my earlier years ramming this lie into my head, my found sibling opened my eyes to who I am. They taught me how to embrace who I am and stop hiding. They were there since the very first moment of my journey, seeing the rash, weird, anxious guy to grow into the still weird but in a different way, way more confident person I am now. They did in roughly five years more than my actual family tried in roughly two decades. They did by actually listening. They made me love my loopy self without shame and judgement. They celebrated my small achievements without pushing me further, trying to live off of it (I’m looking at you, dad).&#xA;&#xA;You might be wondering now where are they. Well, life has been unkind to them. Like, seriously unkind.  They’ve been going through things that nobody wants to experience in nightmares. They’re fighting demons that makes them disappear for days, weeks even. They’re staring into the abyss far too often. And it’s my job to be their found family so they can fulfil Raigho’s words. After what they’ve done for me, it’s only fair to be the same. After all, a wolf needs his pack and that pack should stick together.&#xA;&#xA;But what about the extended family? You mean the blood one? The one I barely even know? The one that would probably erase me from existence if they knew who I truly am (props to my mum doing good job shielding me from them)? That one I already replaced ages ago. Yes, my found extended family is one weird bunch that sheds a lot but it’s my family. And who knows, maybe there are more who will become the close kind.&#xA;&#xA;So yes, I value my found family greatly. Why? Because as mentioned before “home is where your heart is”. To which I say: “Family are people who embrace who you are and help you nurture that ‘you’. They’re the people with whom you can be yourself without restraint and yet will help you calm the ‘beast within’ when it becomes too strong to handle. They’re there to catch you when you fall. They’re there to lead you back when the ‘call of the abyss’ becomes too seductive. Who are they? You’ll find them without looking too hard for they will reveal themselves when the time is right.”&#xA;&#xA;R.R.A.&#xA;&#xA;BehindClosedDoors]]&gt;</description>
      <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Woof’s feeling a little sentimental again and well, the title says it all. What prompted it? A quote-response from <a href="https://bsky.app/profile/raigho.bsky.social/post/3m3xn65ly422t">Raigho</a> to an “at the first glance silly” post. The response reads:</p>

<hr/>

<p><em>Friends that feel more like family. They have your back and they always make you feel at ease the minute you&#39;re around them.</em></p>

<p><em>I&#39;ll always value people like that.</em></p>

<hr/>

<p>It made me remember how I value people that got me through the hardest times, despite their own hardships. And how big has the rift between me and my bloodline become over the course of time. I know one of them will probably read this and put in the effort to understand it. And maybe the question will come up: “Why didn’t you say something?” Why? Because I never felt safe to do so. Because I haven’t felt I’d be trusted and understood and I sadly still don’t believe I ever will. Otherwise I wouldn’t need to write these lines.</p>



<p>Those who follow me for longer and/or have known me closer already know that the relationship with my family isn’t exactly all sunshine and rainbows. Like, the parents aren’t together anymore and haven’t been for at least a decade at the time of writing. Trips “home” haven’t felt like coming back for a long time to a point where I actively avoid them to save myself the anxiety and anguish of having to spend time with my father in the same place. Visiting my mum, while understanding, feels empty, void of the safety one would and should get. I think everyone in a similar place would seek a kindred soul. Someone who can create that place of home. After all, the saying “home is where your heart is” exists for a reason. I sometimes even called myself “homeless” for the reasons mentioned. Not because don’t have a roof over my head but because I don’t feel “home” anywhere. A little doodle from <a href="https://meow.social/@Furo_Fur/115288010207131627">Furo</a> captures the mood well. And with my blood family being the way they are, the word “orphan” comes up as well.</p>

<p>Back to the post that originated this train of thought and the title of my ramblings. How did all of this come up? Because there in fact is someone who has become my found family in that exact sense. I won’t say their name to protect their privacy (those who were with me for some time however probably know who I mean). The person I’m talking about very much fulfils the “made me human” part. How? Just like my SO made me realise I’m not made of stone as much as I spent my earlier years ramming this lie into my head, my found sibling opened my eyes to who I am. They taught me how to embrace who I am and stop hiding. They were there since the very first moment of my journey, seeing the rash, weird, anxious guy to grow into the still weird but in a different way, way more confident person I am now. They did in roughly five years more than my actual family tried in roughly two decades. They did by actually listening. They made me love my loopy self without shame and judgement. They celebrated my small achievements without pushing me further, trying to live off of it (I’m looking at you, dad).</p>

<p>You might be wondering now where are they. Well, life has been unkind to them. Like, seriously unkind.  They’ve been going through things that nobody wants to experience in nightmares. They’re fighting demons that makes them disappear for days, weeks even. They’re staring into the abyss far too often. And it’s my job to be their found family so they can fulfil Raigho’s words. After what they’ve done for me, it’s only fair to be the same. After all, a wolf needs his pack and that pack should stick together.</p>

<p>But what about the extended family? You mean the blood one? The one I barely even know? The one that would probably erase me from existence if they knew who I truly am (props to my mum doing good job shielding me from them)? That one I already replaced ages ago. Yes, my found extended family is one weird bunch that sheds a lot but it’s my family. And who knows, maybe there are more who will become the close kind.</p>

<p>So yes, I value my found family greatly. Why? Because as mentioned before “home is where your heart is”. To which I say: “Family are people who embrace who you are and help you nurture that ‘you’. They’re the people with whom you can be yourself without restraint and yet will help you calm the ‘beast within’ when it becomes too strong to handle. They’re there to catch you when you fall. They’re there to lead you back when the ‘call of the abyss’ becomes too seductive. Who are they? You’ll find them without looking too hard for they will reveal themselves when the time is right.”</p>

<p>R.R.A.</p>

<p><a href="https://rawiwoof.writeas.com/tag:BehindClosedDoors" class="hashtag"><span>#</span><span class="p-category">BehindClosedDoors</span></a></p>
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      <guid>https://rawiwoof.writeas.com/behind-closed-doors-blood-family-gave-me-life-but-found-family-made-me-human</guid>
      <pubDate>Sat, 25 Oct 2025 11:35:07 +0000</pubDate>
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    <item>
      <title>Behind closed doors ...  Self-deprecation is an abuse of soul</title>
      <link>https://rawiwoof.writeas.com/behind-closed-doors-self-deprecation-is-an-abuse-of-soul?pk_campaign=rss-feed</link>
      <description>&lt;![CDATA[And it’s you who is the abuser. Yes, you. The very person who has been suffering and probably still are. You hold so much anger inside and it wants out. But where? Where to vent it? Outside? At whom? You don’t want to hurt anyone, do you? So it goes in. Either in a form of self-abuse or an edgy joke so it’s easier to brush off, right? Sure, you chuckle but did it feel good? No, no it didn’t. In fact, you betrayed the one person you should never ever betray; yourself. So tell me, why do you do it? Why do you keep hurting yourself? Well, let me share a story with you.&#xA;&#xA;!--more--&#xA;&#xA;You already know that I’m “made from a different dough”, especially if you come from the West. We Easterners have a little bit of different bar when it comes to humour. Sometimes it gets to a level where it’s highly incorrect and downright abusive and/or self-deprecating. I could rant about this being “policed” by Westerners (sorry folks, but your letting your old colonialist manners seep through the “protection” mask) but that’s not the point. The story I want to share is in fact my journey from the sharp and dark Easterner to an Easterner who still retains his edge but now knows much better how to wield it instead of just wildly swinging it around, injuring everyone around, himself included.&#xA;&#xA;You already know I was the “professional outcast” (also fits the theme), later elevated to the “professional renegade” which fits much better and doesn’t carry the self-deprecating tone. But yeah, I used to have a rather self-deprecating view of things. Usually masking these as jokes and jabs. Back in the day I didn’t care, keeping my unfazed face, unaware of what was slowly brewing inside. Of course I didn’t do it publicly and mostly kept it among the people in my circle who knew my nature. So I went through my life and eventually into the crowd of furs, carrying my attitude with me. Initially it worked out quite well and got me around some folks I somewhat worked with. The paths with most have already diverged but I haven’t lost you from sight, Ikarus (I wonder if you somehow figured out I’m writing :P ). Weirdly enough, even my SO managed my slightly sharp edges but at the same time, they found the way to dull them. But about that in the moment.&#xA;&#xA;Time goes on and as mentioned, people come and go. My exposure to rougher spaces has lowered so I started softening my defences. And then it came. The realisation. Why was I always so mad? Moreover, why did my SO took this after me? Sure, not at the same level but still, they were doing it too. And … and it hurt. It hurt me seeing them dragging themselves down. I just couldn’t stand by and watch them crack these comments, I had to intervene. How? Aside from being supportive directly and helping the shun the lies away, I stopped doing it to myself too. Because if I’m to somehow improve and work with the negatives I have, I can’t just sweep them under the carpet. I need to accept them. I need to take into account that I’m not some prefabricated perfect being. Far from it. I’m just a human. Sure, wrapped in pieces of fuzzy carpet sometimes but still a living being. Sentient, self-aware and intelligent enough to understand that I’m not doomed forever but that I can learn. I can improve. I can grow. Not physically, at least not when it comes to height, but mentally. Once I realised that, all those past moments of darkness felt horrid. And whenever I slip into that old self, it’s like being stabbed with a knife and instead of pulling it out immediately, you pour salt into the wound and set the blade on fire so it hurts even more. &#xA;&#xA;But they’re now a thing of the past. Yes, I do slip. And I did so quite recently, given what I’m heading into and there’s nothing I can do about it. But I refuse to abuse my soul anymore. I refuse to be my own torturer and eventual executioner. So when I tell you to “STOP!”, I mean it. I shout that “STOP!” like a big brother, who’s always rather quiet, when he’s saving his younger sibling from a horrible accident. And immediately after the danger is gone, you’re getting the most loving tearful hug of reassurance. Because that’s what your soul needs. It’s what you need. Not abuse, but protection. No whip, but a shield-brother to catch the coming blow and strike back at the foe that’s coming for you. And that person can as well be yourself.&#xA;&#xA;To borrow few lines from a song I like a lot:&#xA;&#xA;“You’re in the eye of the storm … But that’s where heroes are born.”&#xA;&#xA;So&#xA;&#xA;“Lay it all on the line, holding your head up high. Resist with all your might, defy the odds and fight!”&#xA;&#xA;R.R.A.&#xA;&#xA;PS: Thank you, Milo, for your inspiration :3&#xA;&#xA;BehindClosedDoors]]&gt;</description>
      <content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>And it’s you who is the abuser. Yes, you. The very person who has been suffering and probably still are. You hold so much anger inside and it wants out. But where? Where to vent it? Outside? At whom? You don’t want to hurt an