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  2. It’s really hard to give ourselves a break most of the time. One thing that’s really helped me when I can’t acknowledge I wasn’t to blame at 5-6 is to think of one of my nieces or other 6 yr old kids I know. That makes it more obvious to me. I would never blame one of them. Same for your situation. I can think of a few 12-16 yr olds and the thought of them being blamed for something a teacher did to them would be outrageous.
  3. We probably just both hope you feel validated 😊 And you're welcome! No your story wasn't too disturbing. An art teacher from college came to mind actually. He wasn't a teacher very long when I had him. But the first day of class I stayed after to get to a good stopping point for my coil pot. He is around as well talking to another teacher about student work. he ends up cornering me at the sink while I'm washing my tools and mentions his ex-girlfriend. I don't know why. he also said some things about squeezing boobs that made people uncomfortable. Yeah, I don't buy it. He also gave me an A-. Prick!
  4. Today
  5. Thank you so much for reading this @Viceless. ❤️ It took a lot out of me to write this down and publicly post it. I feel gross about it all. But I'm tired of keeping secrets out of shame and fear. It's crazy how normal or maybe routine things became to me over the four years things happened. Now, that I'm older and am beginning to talk about it in therapy, I'm just really grapsing how wrong things were. So I appreciate the assurance that "he abused his power, and I am not to blame". That statement may seem obvious to others, but I struggle with believing that at times. Certain things relating to art can be triggering at times. But art and creativity feel so natural to me that it is something I find hard to give up. So thank you for saying I am resilient. That means a lot when I feel like a crumbling mess a lot of the time.
  6. Oh, no need to delete anything @mango_star1 I really appreciate your words. ❤️ Thank you for taking the time to read my post. I hope it wasn't too disturbing. I feel gross about it all... Yea, my therapist told me about his obligation to report domestic violence too. It's sad how things could have been different. At the time, I had so much fear about my family being disrupted and my dad getting in trouble, especially since he had an influential position in our religious community. I wasn't thinking about his obligation as a teacher. I guess that shows how corrupt he was to begin with. My father was emotionally distant and violent. So FM felt like the opposite. and I guess I fell for his crap 😞 Yea, after having joined AS, I sadly realized that my situation was not unique. It's so sad how often this kind of thing happens between teachers and students. 💔 Thank you for saying this Mango. I really needed to hear that.
  7. Before I read your previous post this is my response because I read the one before this: You were extremely vulnerable after being beaten at home. When you came to school the next day a teacher r*d you. Your teacher had no reason to become sexual with you. I know it isn't what you wanted at the time but the teacher really should have reported the abuse at home.... It is not your fault that he didn't however, also I'm sure teachers are mandatory reporters I could be wrong. that's his fault. He wasn't helping. that way, you and your family could have spoken with a social worker, who could have actually helped. Local to me right now, SA allegations in a school district are being posted on an IG account. Nationally, Betsy DeVoss is revising title IX to protect schools from accountability when their student is assaulted or assaults on or off school property.................................................................... yours is the second story so far I've read on AS of r* at school. based on what I know already is you not only survived domestic violence at home, you survived r* at school by a teacher when dude could have chosen to stop the violence in your life by actually making sure you were safe.... stopped it......I can only imagine what other repetitions you've seen of abuse in your life from people around you not stepping in. and yeah I am figuring that out a little. its not your fault....... its the people around you who's fault it is. .......... I am so sorry if this is the wrong thing to say. I will delete it if I need to. ❤️ -mango
  8. So real. I feel this. And also yes to @mango_star1 😂. .
  9. Hi Time, Welcome to AfterSilence. I am very sorry for what you have gone thru, but do know that you are supported and understood here. You are not alone. It's very difficult when struggles overtake you, but it helps when you have others who know what it's like. You are right, nobody deserves to hurt or be hurt. Others can be so selfish and cruel. We need to continue to fight and move forward down this path of healing. I wish you well on this journey. Mary
  10. Yesterday
  11. You have nothing to be sorry for. This is the place to share all your secrets...and I agree with your therapist about the less secrets, the better for you mentally and physically. I’m sorry for all your teacher did to you. He abused his power and your not to blame. It’s amazing that you excelled in art...even with all of that going on behind closed doors. It goes to show how resilient you are. You survived. Thank you for sharing. I’m sure that was extremely hard to make public.
  12. Welcome @A Long Time Ago to After Silence. I’m sorry for what brought you here but I’m happy you are here reaching out for support. Good job taking this step in your healing process. You are not alone and what happened to you wasn’t your fault. It's understandable to be nervous to post online but since we have anonymous usernames we are protected. That stinks the site only has male and female options. There are others here who are non-binary as well, so you are not alone in that. @snmls offers a good suggestion about listing your preferred pronouns. Take your time exploring here and post when you are ready. If you have any questions feel free to message me.
  13. Hi @A Long Time Ago. Welcome to AS. I'm sorry for the trauma that brought you here, but I'm glad you found the site and decided to join. This is a welcoming and supportive place and we are all here to help each other heal. You did not deserve what happened to you and what happened to you was not your fault. There is nothing wrong with you as a person. You are not broken. You are a survivor. Opening up and talking about trauma can be scary, but it can also be very healing. Talking with other survivors can also help you to feel less alone. You never have to share anything you don't want to on this site and there is no pressure to post. Take some time looking around the site and then jump in whenever you feel comfortable. If you have any questions about the site, please reach out. We are here to help. I hope you end up finding this site to be as helpful as I do. ps. I'm sorry that the site only currently has male and female as the options for gender. It is something that the site staff are aware of and are hoping to fix. You can however go to your edit profile page and put something in the "member title" box. There you can state you are non-binary or list your pronouns. It will appear below your member name when you post, like how mine says "braver than she believes." If you need help figuring that out, just let me know!
  14. “Fake it till I make it” is what I told myself when I stuffed tissues in my bra in middle school. Lol
  15. I’m curious, was your father abusive to all your siblings or only you? Sensing root issues in family dynamic, maybe jealousy in some weird way by ur sister? She needed to handle the passing of your brother bc she wasnt able to control the situations of dad/stepmom with their passings.. ? onomatopoeia for you: yeet 🥭
  16. Made an Apple Cake today! Has anyone else baked/cooked anything nice recently?

    1. Show previous comments  2 more
    2. MeBeMary


      Yummy!  :eat2:

      Had a bbq on the 4th. Nothing really creative, just chicken on the grill.

      Did make strawberry trifle. No cooking/baking and easy to make. But yummy, as well. :) 

    3. Moongoddess


      That sounds so good! I just got home from the grocery store with the fixings to make some Indian Pudding!

    4. iluvac


      wish i knew how to bake apple cake! last time i made something was a while ago, and it was cookies i baked with my sister.

  17. Welcome @A Long Time Ago im sorry for what brings you here but you can be sure of a warm and accepting welcome whatever your story. Its a fantastic place to find support and realise that however alone you feel you are part of a huge network of people working through their journeys together.
  18. This is a journal entry I have held private from posting to my blog for the past few weeks. It is extremely embarrassing, nauseating, and upsetting to write about. However, the body memories and flashback became so vivid that I needed to release it. My T says, the more I suppress or hide experiences like this, the more power I am giving my shame. So here it is. ____ A couple of months ago, if you asked me about my relationship with my art teacher FM, I would have said he was smart and gentle, but strong. He was a talented artist, a mentor, a confidant, a safety net, someone I could trust to look out for me and who’d gone out of his way to make sure I excelled in my art career. I would even say he got me where I am today professionally, 15 years later. Yes, he was in fact all of those things. Yet, there were also parts of him that were not so desirable, that I subconsciously chose to forget. As I’ve been opening up about him in therapy little by little, such undesirable parts begin to resurface. Unfortunately, some, like this one, I wish had stayed forgotten. TRIGGER WARNING!!!! (Graphic) I’m sorry in advance... 😔 Almost a year had gone by since things had begun with FM. So I was 16. Unfortunately, our sexual encounters had become somewhat routine for me although I would still be anxious all the time. I’d made more friends and began to stand out academically. I had begun talking to boys more now. Yet, I was still shy and insecure by default. So I felt like I never really meshed well with anyone. It was lunch period. I walked into FM’s classroom. He came over, hugged me, then went behind me to lock the doors as normal, so no one would a walk in. His classroom was somewhat off from the rest of the school. His room and office were not visible from the hallway. A person would have go through the print lab to get to his room. So there were two doors between us and the hallway that he would lock. Very little sound could be heard either. He came back, kissed me, and asked how my day has been going. I can’t remember what I said. Something generic. He was listening, then walked behind me grabbed my waist and started kissing my side of my neck. I let him, but I remember nervously asking if would be okay not to “do stuff” today? He stopped, and asked me why. I told him I was tired and just not into it today. Although he was a gentle and relatively quiet man, he was very muscular and intimidating in stature. So I was nervous. He let me go then walked from behind me and sat against the edge of his desk looking to face me, and said, “Is it because of that boy? ...I saw you talking to him earlier.” I felt what seemed like my heart clench. I asked, “what boy?” He said, “you know... the tall Hispanic guy on the baseball team.” I looked down at the floor and said, “well yea, I mean... he’s cute and I think he’s interested in me. But you know my parents. You know my religion. I can’t date now anyway.” I remember feeling a knot in my throat and my heart was beating fast for some reason. He calmly asked me to look up at him. He said, “Babe, it’s natural for you to be interested in boys at your age. And I don’t blame him for looking at you. Who wouldn’t want you? You’re hot.” I remember blushing but still feeling nervous that he was mad or something. He paused for a minute. Then he said, “H... do you want him to kiss you? Touch you?” I looked down again, and said, “God F, I don’t even know him like that.” He said, “but you know that’s what HE wants, right? To kiss... and touch you...” Without saying anything, he just stood up and walked behind me again. I felt myself shaking a little. He grabbed me by my waist again, and stood really close behind me so I could feel his p* hard against me. He whispered in my ear, “I bet you he wants to do this...” And he slid his hands up under my shirt and underneath my bra and started squeezing my bare breasts and n*s. I gasped and held my breath for a second. I remember feeling super tingly but upset and confused, since I said I wasn’t up to anything today. He said, “and this”... While he was still grabbing my breasts, he kissed and sucked on my neck again. I’m embarrassed to say I felt really aroused, but nauseous at the same time, knowing this was just the beginning and he wasn’t gonna give me a break today like I asked. I swallowed what felt like a lump in my throat, and figured let me just try to relax and like it. After some time of doing that, he told me to stay there, and that he wanted to show me something. My stomach was twisting and turning when he walked away into his office, since he was always wanting to do new things I wasn’t ready for. I quickly pulled my bra and shirt back down into position, and sat up on a table that was against the side wall. It was one of those basic but sturdy school tables that was black on top with wooden legs. He came back with this weird look in his eyes and smug look on his face. He was hiding something behind his back. I leaned forward to get up off of the table, and he grabbed my thigh and said, “no no babe, you can stay right there.” He smiled and revealed what was behind his back to be a vibrator. I knew what one was at this point in my life, but just never used one before. I felt myself getting fidgety and said, “Um... F, I don’t know... I’ve never...” He cut me off and said, “Babe, it’s okay. Let’s just try it.” I knew the drill... whatever I said wasn’t really gonna change his mind or stop him at this point. So I felt myself going numb and on autopilot. He stroked my thigh said, “It’s okay baby... You’ll like it, I promise.” He laid the vibrator down next to me, and said “lean back a little, against the wall”... I can’t remember exactly. It gets fuzzy for me at this point of the memory, because I felt I was slowly detaching. I think he told me to undo and pull my pants down and that I could leave my underwear on. Or he may have done it for me. Idk... Something like that... I just remember my pants were at my ankles, and I was leaning back at an angle against the wall with my legs bent, on this table facing him. I vaguely remember him grabbing my knees and pushing them apart to open my legs so that I was completely open and exposed to him. The next thing I remember, was that he had the vibrator in his hand, and turned it on. The buzzing sound still seems so real in my memory of this moment. I remember him smiling at me and breathing heavily, which made me really anxious. Meanwhile, I was holding my breath scared of what this would feel like or make me do. He said calmly, “Baby relax, it’s okay. I promise... You don’t have to do anything. I just want to watch you enjoy it.” Then he asked me to touch it first, so I could feel the vibration. I did and felt goosebumps knowing this was going to feel very “different”. He slowly put the tip of it on my inner thigh right near my private and stayed there for a minute. I was still holding my breath, waiting for him to get on with it. Then he moved it slowly to my private area and stopped on that sensitive spot. I have a hard saying certain words, I’m sorry. I felt myself automatically jump and gasp. I hadn’t felt anything like that before. As he kept it there, he asked me to look at him so he could see my beautiful eyes, as he would say. Then at some point he asked me how did it feel. I honestly couldn’t concentrate on what he was asking me. I began breathing harder, and just nodded and closed my eyes. He chuckled and said, “see there? I knew you’d like it.” He started moving it a little, up and down and in circles. I started shaking and making noises. I felt embarrassed from how I was acting. I was trying to keep still, but I was absolutely losing it. I was shaking, and felt myself start tensing and jerking. He stroked my thigh with his free hand and said, “oh “H”... that’s it baby... that’s my sweet girl... let it all go” I felt so sick hearing him say that, but was upset and ashamed that I was turned on by everything at the same time. I tried not to let myself go there, but I couldn’t help it, and totally gave into the pleasure. I was panting, and he started breathing hard too. I felt flushed, and tingly. I hate how good it felt. I zoned out, and stopped caring that he was watching me. I had succumb to the version of myself I viewed as “the dirty me, or bad me”. He told me to touch my n*s to get there faster. So I did that, and I automatically felt that “high”... that tingly flushing feeling down there and through my legs just before it happens, and then the down period right after. It kind of became like a drug for me. I would get lost in that feeling. He turned the vibrator off, put it down next to me, leaned in to kiss my lips, and took his hand to slowly rub me there for a minute as if he were calming me down. He slid his fingers inside my underwear, put them partly inside me, then pulled his fingers out to show me see how w*t I was. I was still lightheaded and amazed at how this new thing made me feel. I didn’t see when he did this, but his zipper was down and his p* was sticking straight out. I must have been zoned out or something. He told me I turned him on. He was touching himself and panting hard watching me as I was catching my breath to calm down. For a really quick moment I felt connected and happy with him. I know, it was a really weird thing... but I did. He did his usual chuckle after I would climax, and tell me how hot and beautiful that was. He asked me to touch “him”, I looked down and said I didn’t want to. Surprisingly, he said “okay... maybe another day.” It was weird that he didn’t force the issue. He asked me to watch as he did ‘what he needed to for himself’, cleaned himself up, and then put his p* back in his pants. I thought we were done. I was tired. But as soon as I leaned forward to sit up so I could pull my pants up, he grabbed my thighs and said, “No sweetie, not just yet.. I’m not quite done with you.” I tried to respectfully say, “I’m tired, and we don’t have a lot of time left.” He said, “this won’t take long.” I didn’t know what he meant by that. But he got that weird smug look on his face again all of the sudden. He picked up the vibrator, and turned it back on, and placed it back on me, where it was before. I held my breath again, and was a little scared. He pressed it harder against me than he had done before so I felt the vibration shoot through my body. It was feeling really uncomfortable. I started squirming and told him it hurt a little and was too much. He ignored me, and told me to look up at him so he could see my eyes again. His face had gone cold. There was no mistaking he was being serious with me at this moment for some reason. He pushed it harder on me and I shivered. He said, “tell me... do you like that boy?” I was getting clammy and bothered by the vibrator and couldn’t form words. All of the sudden the vibration got stronger and he started moving it on me. He must have turned it up a speed or something. He asked me the same question again. I was panting and whimpering and said, “no no, I don’t like him.” Tears began falling at this point, and I was pleading with him to stop it. The feeling was hard to explain. Part of it felt good, but really sensitive and painful at the same time. I grabbed his arm that was holding the vibrator and desperately begged him to take it off from me down there. He calmly smiled and said, “No sweetheart, not yet. I need to know you mean it.” I begged and cried, “I do, I do mean it, please!” He said, “Ok good. Now, tell me you’re mine.” I was squirming and trying to move out from under the vibrator, but he kept pushing it harder against me, while using his other arm or hand to hold me in place, to keep me from avoiding it. I was so frustrated and scared at the same time. I felt like something bad was going to happen. He just wouldn’t let go or ease up. I began feeling kind of lightheaded and faint. I heard him but could barely think straight. He turned it up even more to what felt like the highest setting, and I squealed or made some kind of noise louder than usual. He leaned forward closer to me and chuckled and shushed me like I was some unruly child. I felt so upset and powerless in his control at that moment. I remembered for a second that we were still at school and I certainly didn’t want anyone to accidentally hear me and see this horrible thing happening. I remember reaching for anything I could grab ahold to because it was all so intense. I threw my head back and pled with him asking, “oh god F... just tell me what you want me to to say, I’ll say it...” He repeated calmly but sternly, “H, tell me your mine. You’re MY girl.” I said really fast between breaths, “I’m yours F... I’m your girl...”. Then he turned it down a level. I let out a deep breath, and still wanted it off. But then, I felt conflicted. After all that pain and sensitivity, I began to feel the tingly flushing sensation happen again, the feeling I get just before I... I hated how FM could always tell I was getting close. So he started saying something about me liking it after all, and how I was being a good girl now. That tingly flushing feeling took over, and stupid me grabs the vibrator while his hand is still on it and asks him to keep it on that particular spot/angle so I could finish. He laughed, called me his dirty little girl, and coached me until I climaxed. Then, he finally shut it off and touched me down there, saying I was beautiful and I was all his. Then he leaned into kiss me. He told me to remember that no boy would be able to please me like he could. He said a few other things I couldn’t remember. I was zoning out again while still catching my breath and wiping tears. I looked at his face, and the cold look began to soften. He smiled, playfully grabbed my thigh, and calmly told me I’d better get dressed and get myself together so I could be ready for my next class. He walked off and started doing something normal like erasing or writing on the whiteboard. I can’t even remember. I just remember feeling so so numb, and out of my body again... so detached from everyone and everything the rest of that day. I didn’t know how to feel about FM at that moment. I still cared about him but was a little afraid of him now. ____ Ugh... I just feel so sick about this. I’m sorry.
  19. Hello Time, and welcome to After Silence. I first off want to share my sympathies and tell you I am sorry for the reasons that brought you here. We believe your story. The feelings you describe, wishing to have made it up, feeling odd, alone, like the trauma is lurking etc are indeed common among survivors. That does not make it any less serious or traumatic though, so please do not think that your introduction would be too sad or bothering in any way. This is after all a place to vent and share in the amount you feel comfortable with. I hope you will find yourself a comforting support system here. Our platform carries a wide diversity of survivors, and our members form a wonderful community. You are right, we deserve better, you deserve better. After Silence is here for you 🌻 Feel free to browse the site, and know that the staff, including me, always has doors open if you would have any questions. Take care - Wanna ☀️
  20. aperson

    No Title

    So 1 night of 6 straight hours of sleep is all I get? Weeks of of getting 2-3 hours a day and 1 night is all I get. This is bordering on crazy. I am falling asleep on my lunch at work. Today I fell asleep on a conference call. It was less than 10 mins but it doesnt look good. I have been trying to be less focused on the negative. I hoped this would free my mind to relax. I am not trying to avoid anything just lessen the control the negative mindset has over me. Acknowledging I am not doing the best but accepting that and saying this is what I can do to feel a bit better. Writing is not coming as easily as I thought it would. Dont get me wrong, the process of feeling like I am in conversation is helpful in the sense that I am not having the conversation in my head. That tends to keep me in a cycle of negative thinking. Plus I get to write and try to organize the chaos. On a good day, I can put clear words to feelings and doing that feels good. Right now, itxs a much harder process. It feels like there is this new feeling that the world has never seen. It needs a name and description and neither are possible. The thing is I know it's not a new feeling. I just lack the capacity to put it in words to label it. No label, it keeps lingering. Or maybe I just need to stop acting as if certain things dont bother me when they do.
  21. Dear lla long time ago I am sorry for all that you have been through. You have been so brave in reaching out to us, please know that this is never easy! We are all here for you and we want to support you. You're not alone in your healing journey and are always welcome to lean on us for extra support. You can post as much or as little as you like. We are here to support you in the way you need. I have found this community to be very helpful. Everyone is so understanding and non-judgmental and I am hoping you feel the same way once you've gotten to know us a little.  All my best,q missfrier
  22. Writing out these thoughts has been tough, not just because I'm finally coming to terms with a part of my childhood I forso long hoped would just disappear, but I'm having trouble putting it down in words. And I know that at some future date when I am comfortable with the idea of sharing this blog's contents with Ls and Lb, I don't want to hurt them more. Even now, all these years later, I'm trying to shield them from the pain my csa may cause them. I know I'm not responsible for it. I cannot continue to play the roll of preschooler RR, taking care of everyone else's feelings like my own don't matter. If the truth of my experience hurts the people who love me, that is not my fault, any more than any of this shit was my fault. Writing it out has helped me actually define what sexual abuse is. Some of what I now see as csa I just saw as physical abuse at the time it was happening. This seems weird, but I never realized before that an abuser might not be seeking pleasure, either for themselves or for the person they are abusing. They can unintentionally be abusing another person. Or, they can thoughtlessly do it without really considering what harm their actions are doing because they aren't thinking about the other person. Or perhaps they are just selfish. Or maybe they are sadistic and just don't care. For whatever reason, I had never considered that sexual abuse was more about the harm done to the survivor than about the motivations of the abuser. I had pictured the abuser to be seeking pleasure or power. I had assumed that absence of the pleasure seeking motive dropped this action from csa to "just" physical abuse. Even now, explaining it like that, I feel like I'm still a little in denial. Still searching for a reason that explains why she did what she did. I feel like an enabler of sorts. How do you get away with bad behavior? 1) convince people that you didn't do it, or 2) convince people that, while your actions may have been wrong, your motives weren't nefarious. I never realized how much labels effected how I thought. Once I finally saw what my mom did to me in the tub as sexual abuse I had the realization that she sexually abused me, too. I know this might sound obvious but it took me a long time to actually make that connection. I don't know why it took so long, but it did. Maybe I just didn't want to see her as a sexual abuser, too. Maybe it was just too much to handle on top of the physical and emotional trauma she doled out so regularly. Maybe I just compartmentalized it. Maybe what she did to me didn't fit the category of what an abuser does because she didn't do it in some pervy-creepy-old-dude-in-a-trench-coat-hanging-out-in-a-playground kinda way. Maybe in my head I defined what the perpetrator of csa looks like and I defined her right out of the picture because she 1) was female and 2) her motives seemed to not be for her own sexual pleasure. My own assumptions about abusers left me with a blind spot big enough for her to hide in. But it's not just the motivation of the abuser that can define something as csa, it's the combination of the action and the affect. And I CLEARLY remember absolutely dreading the end of bathtime, and knowing that she was going to hurt me down there. Feeling trapped because both of my parents touch me down there in ways I don't like and I can't make them stop. My childhood self, even my teen self and adult self, considered it about as sexual as if she'd been roughly scrubbing salt into an open wound on my arm. I saw her actions as physical abuse, and his as csa. For whatever motivated her to do it, I'm working through this idea right now. At first I thought I must be an idiot not to have realized this before. But I need to forgive my younger self for not knowing, not realizing, possibly not wanting to know. How would I have known? No one defined these things clearly for childhood me. I was young and didn't have the opportunity of hindsight or the logical reasoning skills I have as an adult. I certainly didn't have any type of support system to help me with the heavyness of this truth. I was alone and coped as best as I could. It's possible that the reason I see it for what it was now is because I'm finally at a place where I'm strong enough to handle it. I'm in a safe place where I can actually process this. That's enough for now, RR
  23. Hi, I'm Time? I guess. (Warning: Sad vibes to follow) Talking about what happened online scares me. I know that it happened, but putting it into words feels like shattering whatever's left of the illusion that I am normal. I guess some part of me still hopes that I'm making it up. We all know I'm not. I just want to be free from this weight on me. Sometimes it feels like what happened is constantly lurking in the back of my mind, waiting for me to slip up so it can destroy me. I've talked to people about it, a lot of people. I know others with the same experiences, so why do I still feel so alone? I have friends that support me through anything, so why do I still feel like I'm drowning? I'm tired. We didn't deserve this. We deserved so much better. These are just my thoughts as I join this group, I hope it's not too sad for an introduction. Also, I'm non-binary. There wasn't an option for that when I joined so I just picked a gender. Sincerely, Time.
  24. Dear @MSmith, Welcome to After Silence. I'm sorry for the trauma that brought you here and for the anxiety that comes with wondering if your health was compromised. I am glad to hear that you've sought medical help. After a traumatic even like assault, it's important to get help from people who can offer physical and emotional support. We also have a kind and supportive community full of people who are here for you and care. Take care, Gold Raindrops
  25. @EvilRegal totally agree! Nothing wrong with channeling your inner evil queen 😁 I’m here if you need a friend
  26. @I believe in ME Thank you! I look forward to being here and getting to know everyone. Yas a OUAT fan! They are few and far between, but sometimes I just have to channel my inner evil queen
  27. Hello @EvilRegal and welcome to After Silence! I am relatively new as well and I can definitely say that so far my experience has been a very positive one. You don’t have to post anything that you are not comfortable with and can post as little or as much as you would like to. I love your name choice! I used to watch the show all the time. Regina and Emma were 2 of my favorite characters.
  28. Thanks for your kindness here. I love all kinds of animals and if i wasn't in an apartment I just might have a farm lol.
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