Friends that feel more like family. They have your back and they always make you feel at ease the minute you're around them.

I'll always value people like that.

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.

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.

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).

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.

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.

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.”

R.R.A.

#BehindClosedDoors

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.

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.

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.

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.

To borrow few lines from a song I like a lot:

“You’re in the eye of the storm … But that’s where heroes are born.”

So

“Lay it all on the line, holding your head up high. Resist with all your might, defy the odds and fight!”

R.R.A.

PS: Thank you, Milo, for your inspiration :3

#BehindClosedDoors

The birthday time isn’t exactly my happiest since I have this weird dislike of being reminded that I managed to survive another year. Yes, survive. It doesn’t feel right to say I thrived these days. This stacks up with the early days of may being combined with certain historical events which in my place don’t feel like worthy of celebration. Especially now, when the memory of these days is being trampled on and everything our ancestors fought for is being abused in most digusting ways. It threw me into rage. Not the kind that bring up action but the one that hurts your soul. And then I saw him; the “Me” from years ago. Cynical, resigned, internally angry while trying to hide it behind a smile and dark humour. Seeing this monster in the mirror was depressing. So depressing that I heard a call in my head: “Rawen, where are you? Please, come back! Save me from this beast!”

What has changed? You know how angry people are usually depicted? Either with sharp traits or disfigured? Imagine the Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars. I saw someone like this. All the traits in my face shifting into this face of distilled hatred. Back in the day I wouldn’t pay much attention to this image but this time around, it terrified me. I hoped that this was a closed chapter of my life but it came back. And as I said before, it hurt being this “Me” again. It felt like being stabbed with a knife that you make blazing hot and cover it in salt. Then you push the knife in extremely slowly and twist with every milimetre so you can feel the pain the most. It’s the worst kind of torture and you’re the tormentor.

So, what to do? Learn to stop before it consumes you. And if you can’t do it alone, make sure there’s someone who can see the good in you saves you from the monster that dwells in. This time, I was lucky. And I need to make sure that I honour the sacrifices my saviours made.

R.R.A.

#BehindClosedDoors

Why the idea in the first place? Well, I used to be a really anxious and self-conscious kid. Both carried over well into my adulthood even if you wouldn’t say so at the first glance. To this I can only answer: “I’m a social mess and a nervous wreck. I’m just resonably skilled at masking it.” Growing up and being a target of jokes, always being judged … basically being a “professional outcast” did “wonders” to my confidence. So looking at myself then and now is a bit of surprising development. They I’m growing out of the silent and “don’t find me” person to someone who doesn’t mind being “in a spotlight” a bit, even if it means making a fool of myself a little :P

But who would I visit? As in at what age of myself. And how? Well, first would be me around the age of fourteen or fifteen. Already the odd kid, one could say “too mature” yet at the same time socially lacking (see some of my previous chapters in this category where I shed some light on this). This combination kept me sidelined. Did I mind? Eh, hard to say. Sure, I was upset at how I was handled but since my introverted nature helped me to get over it. It was also around that time when I stumbled upon the fandom and it kept me a bit curious. Mind you that furs weren’t really a thing in my country back then so I’d be a complete outcast if I dared to dabble with it. But being something else, the thought was already rooted in my mind.

And this is where my present self would come in. Specifically my woof self. How would it play out? Initial shock and a bit of explaining aside, I’d tell myself to hold on to that idea. That the interest in furs will eventually grow into this marvellous experience. That the “wolf spirit” that’s been slumbering inside will eventually awaken. And that I won’t be a total outcast anymore. Building upon that will take some time and effort but things will eventually get better. And with these reassuring words, I’d leave my young self; motivated and calmed.

The second moment would be around the end of my high school years. At this time, my fuzzy aesthetic slowly started taking shape but not really in any way associated with the fandom. I was still a bit on the side since I didn’t really click in with my classmates (of course it was “my fault” that I didn’t bend over). Not that I was antagonised but I wasn’t really considered. I was also pretty much doing my own thing in life so any attempt at trying to ridicule or insult me wasn’t really landing anyway. From an outcast I turned more into a renegade. Closed, pursuit my own path and with some rather sharp edges. These edges were further reinforced by my dad who has been this “unpleasantly” light-hearted person. You know, the typical “dad-mode”. He always excused it as a coping mechanic (not that it helped him in long term) but for me it was infuriating. So I made sure to not be like him despite him insisting that I’ll eventually go “crazy”.

In this case, I’d show up completely different. Yes, I’d reveal myself as Roky. Why Roky? Because that’s who I needed back then. Someone to give me a genuine reason to smile and hide those sharp teeth. Someone who’d teach me to be silly without being weird or hiding my pain. Yes, my younger me would probably be repulsed by the idea that I’ll be such a bright fool. I’d dare to even ask: “So my dad is right after all?” Yes and no, my dear young self. He was right in the sense that you’ll find something to make you smile. But he was wrong that you’ll be like him. Not at all, my dear. You’ll find your own way to make yourself genuinely smile and how to share that happiness with those who want and need it. And believe it or not, my bright me will be your mentor (and Roky very much is just that).

Alright, one more visit to my past. This time it be shortly before I actually stepped into the realm of the fandom. I was already dipping my toes and standing right at the gate but wasn’t really willing to commit. It didn’t help that I sometimes stumbled upon pictures of folks from cons or suiters which set off some feelings of FOMO (trust me, nobody is immune) which when combined with social anxiety made me an even bigger mess. Yes, I admit, I made some bad steps along the way but that’s part of life; live and learn and grow.

To this “me” I’d yet again reveal myself as my woof, give myself a good look into the eyes and say: “Patience, Rawen. Don’t rush things, don’t freak out that you’re feeling a little bit on the side. Don’t pursue people just because you think you should know them. That’s not the way to do it. Take it at your own pace and show yourself when you’re ready. Don’t let fears corrupt you, build your own world instead. Because when you’re truly yourself, not only you’ll like what you’re becoming, but there will be folks who will like who you are too. And these are the people you want around. These are the people who will appreciate you as a person you are and not just the character you represent. And as you can see, you life-long dream will eventually become true.”

R.R.A.

#BehindClosedDoors