I’m not going to call this gifted kid burnout which I think is often just a symptom of the popping of the bubble of people’s confused delusions of grandeur because they didn’t realize that gifted education programs are at best a way of giving specialized and individualized education, and at worst a way of achieving legal segregation in schools.
Not to brag, but my therapist who specialized in EMDR therapy for treating people with trauma told me that I had the most difficult childhood of anyone she had ever treated. It was also filled with beauty and I was encouraged in my many skills and pursuits early on, but the inner rot of compounded repeated traumas, keeping secrets, and hiding my suffering eventually took hold.
I was always a good student but as things at home intensified I cared less and less. A teacher noticed this and tried to take advantage of my vulnerable state. This made matters more complicated for me because still to this day he’s my favorite teacher that I ever had; he taught me much of what I know about writing and helped me to develop my skills.
After that, I spent my time in school just coasting along, putting in the minimal amount of effort to no fail. I had no goals or ambition. After graduation, I flitted from service job to service job. I started seeing my therapist and thinking about what I actually wanted to do.
I realized I had one exceptional skill which could be monetized to my advantage and I threw myself into it, grinding to make a living and improve my station in life. This worked and I live in decent material comfort, but I’ve realized the lifestyle I always thought I wanted isn’t what I want at all, so I’m reevaluating that and beginning to explore what that looks like.
There are several different exciting paths of progression my career could take, but I’m also finally working on creative projects for the first time in about a decade, so I’m going to see where life takes me. My best friend tells me I should become certified as a yoga teacher, and going back to school to study psychology and become a therapist would also be tight. I would love to seek a second career.
It took me a long time to get here but I’m trying to actualize and find purpose… Something something Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.
May 26, 2024
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As I grew up I always read stories of people accomplishing amazing things and world firsts. I’d read that some virtuosos started practicing at 10, some 11, some 12 etc etc, and with each year that I grew the amount of things I could start and become the best at slowly decreased.
Now I after a stint in chemical engineering I am studying psychology and I couldn’t be happier. My want for uniqueness and appraisal, shifted to a desire to be truly helpful to people and for that I am so greatful.
Oct 19, 2024
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Not that anyone will care, but to understand me you have to understand this:
I was raised by Christian Protestant fundamentalists, the youngest of 4 by 10 years. Although I resent the church and the theology I desperately tried to make myself believe, I am grateful for their teachings of serving and loving others, even if they contradicted themselves when they told me to fear the evil nature of humanity.
I was named after my grandma, who lived with me for 11 years of my childhood and remained ever trusting and kind as she fell victim to dementia. By the time I was 8 my parents seemed to have tired from raising 4 kids and intensively caring for a 90 year old woman, and I was free to bike miles across town to the library unsupervised, and patch myself up when I fell and bled, and lock myself in my room to read every spare hour of the day. I would read while I ate breakfast, I would read while brushing my teeth, I would read and I wouldn’t hear it if someone called my name. I discovered the internet soon after and unfortunately the curiosities it offered won out over literature. When the internet taught me I wouldn’t live forever in heaven under the tree of life with Teddy Roosevelt and my grandpa, I was on my own to process and panic and pretend to pray.
My family came from Norway, across Canada, down to Northern Idaho to work in the lumber yards, and finally to Oregon when starvation wages hit the shop teachers. My mom grew up on elk tongue sandwiches and I was never allowed to leave a plate full.
I always struggled with friendships, not because people didn’t like me but because I have a tendency for isolating myself. The people I love most tend to be strange and upfront and vulnerable. And I do love my family, but more than anything I want to be independent and meet many strange and upfront people who will lead me to adventure. I am almost 20 and I am an artist. I have no tattoos and I am reckoning with my potential.
Feb 28, 2025
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been feeling v compelled lately to practice self-respect in the form of dedicating time and energy into honing my creative skills despite the loathsome grind of my 8 - 5 job.
i spent a lot of time and money and emotional energy to get the job i have now and i don't hate what i do but i do know that there's more to all of this beautiful life than playing it safe and getting sucked into a monotonous cycle.
loving and respecting myself means devoting myself to my higher aspirations. deep down i know my soul glows brightest when i create and i'm seen thru that work.
i'm on a ferocious pursuit to brighten that glow every day and i hope you are too if you feel that same impulse.
Feb 13, 2024
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“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.”
— Anaïs Nin
This is uncharacteristically raw and personal, even for me, and pretty heavy! I know many of you have seen me posting through it and I feel safe to talk about it openly now that I’ve safely landed at the start of my new life. It’s honestly even a little bit embarrassing but I think it’s important to share.
I’ve never publicly mentioned it on here, but I have a husband; as of Friday, we’d have been together for 11 years, and we’ve been married for 3 years as of 2/22. I realize now that I wanted to explore what I looked like outside of my relationship with him because I had lost that. This is why PI.FYI has been so meaningful to me as a space to express myself and connect with people—to rediscover my voice.
I had been living a lie this entire time, to others but worst of all to myself. He’s been verbally and emotionally abusive, physically but without touching me, to the point that every day I spent with him I was in danger. I’ve been shrinking myself and walking on eggshells to avoid making him insecure and provoking his casual put-downs and fits of rage, while hanging on for dear life to the threads of good I could see.
I’ve wanted so badly to leave, more than anything, but I felt like there was no way out and that this was just something I would need to endure indefinitely—but someone who is so very dear to me helped me see that I have wings to fly, not by acting as my savior but by reminding me of my own power. The emotional safety they built and the gentle care they showed me made me feel like I could open up to them. With their encouragement I was brave enough to tell the truth to my friends, my family, my boss, and they have received me with warm, loving and open arms and rallied to support and protect me. The financial and logistical aspects were the most intimidating to me and it’s going to be tough for a while but I’m going to be better than okay!
Now I’m opening up to you. This isn’t the only abuse I’ve suffered in my life, and my old therapist told me she believed it was my mission to share my strength and light with others to inspire them and show them that change is possible.
I hope that by sharing this, I can reach even just one person who is going through something similar and show that they are not alone, and they are not weak. People with certain backgrounds may be more vulnerable to abuse, but it can happen to anyone. It thrives in darkness, shame, and isolation—and breaking that silence is the first step toward freedom.
Leaving is the scariest thing I have ever done but I have so many angels around me, and I am endlessly grateful. Thank you for being here with me đź’Ś
Mar 16, 2025
My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌
Feb 23, 2025
Schedule sent my resignation email for the morning, effective immediately âś…đź’…
Feb 27, 2025