I was spanked as a child. I was a well-behaved youngster who needed little discipline and was generally obedient and respectful to the best of my ability. I can probably count the number of times I was spanked on my fingers. I was not scarred for life by this ordeal, I am well-adjusted, and I have never reacted by being violent to others. To all appearances, I am a testament to the value of the practice of spanking.
And yet, I oppose it. Vehemently.
This was not always so. For most of my life, I assumed that spanking was a generally useful practice that taught kids to expect consequences to their actions. It promoted personal responsibility, I was told, and enforced respect. I fully expected that I would spank my own children (hopefully not often). I further expected that children who were not spanked would likely be unruly, disrespectful, and lack a sense of responsibility and self-control.
However, as I began to reassess the value of the authoritarian parenting style that I was raised with (which did NOT leave me well-adjusted) I began to confront my perceptions of spanking as well. What lessons had I really learned from these punishments? Were the changes it wrought in my behavior actually positive? Or can I contribute my good behavior primarily to other parenting methods instead?
I clearly recall how the punishment was carried out. I was informed of my error and I would generally apologize. My mother would accept my apology, but if the error was severe enough, she would indicate that I was to be spanked as a punishment. I would be told to fetch the big wooden spoon from the kitchen and I would go into her bedroom. She would close the door and tell me that she loved me, but she needed to do this anyway. I would be told to bend over and she would strike my backside with the spoon. Generally, I would feel humiliated enough that I would not want to cry in front of her, so I would hold my tears in as long as possible. However, before long, I would always give in and cry out, and my mother would hit me only one more time before setting the spoon aside and then holding me. She would tell me again and again that she loved me and calm my tears until I had stopped crying. The punishment was now over.
By the standards of most spanking advocates, my mother did everything right. She never left marks or bruising that I was aware of. I was no longer sore within 5 minutes of the spanking or so. The punishments were always coupled with loving words and assurances that I still had her affections. And yet, they did me absolutely no good. Indeed, they taught me several lessons that were quite counterproductive to my moral and ethical development.
Spanking did not teach me to accept consequences; it taught me to avoid them.
Spanking causes pain and humiliation, but more than anything, it causes a fear and dread. Most children will avoid that fear at any cost. Sometimes this meant behaving well to avoid punishments. But at other times, when I had either misbehaved or simply made a mistake, I learned to try to silence my conscience and hide my misdeed rather than owning up to it. As a clear testament to this, I recall an incident when I was probably only 4 or 5 years old. I had just been playing around in the bathroom and somehow ended up getting toilet paper strewn around the floor. I left the mess behind when I got distracted by something (I was a very absent-minded child) and it was discovered later by my mother. She called the whole family into the bathroom and asked who had made the mess. I distinctly recall a pang of fear as I considered the possibility that an admission of guilt could result in a spanking. I wanted to tell my mother that it was me and to apologize for it, but the fear was too great. Instead, thinking myself very clever, I asked “what will happen to the person who says they did it?”
"Nothing except they will have to clean it up," she responded.
"Oh, well in that case, I did it."
And there lies the first problem with spanking. I was fully willing to take responsibility for my mistake and even make it right by cleaning up the mess I had left. But while the threat of physical pain and humiliation was held over my head, I shut my conscience off and was ready to lie. And lie I did, about the glass bowl that I broke years later. I was never found out.
This is not a productive result of a training method that is intended to INCREASE personal responsibility. Reasonable consequences that allow the child to make up for the mistake that they made are much more likely to be effective. That leads me to my second lesson.
You can’t make up for your mistakes; you can only suffer for them.
Now, I will be the first to admit that there are plenty of mistakes in real life that cannot be fixed. Sometimes you just have to deal with the consequences. But even so, approaching every mistake with this defeatist mindset is a sure way to destroy your life. A healthy person approaches every mistake with an openness to correcting it, or at least making the best of it. Anytime we fail at something or harm someone, our response should be to say “I am so sorry… how can I make it better?”
But spanking was a discouragement of this kind of thought, for me. I was not spanked often, but when I was, it was always a sign that my crime must have been too grievous to make right. Apologies, offers to fix things, attempts to ease the damage that I had done were useless. All that was left for me was physical punishment. Pain would atone for me. I could not atone for myself.
The last spanking that I can remember occurred when I was probably 9 or 10. I had gotten distracted while doing my morning chores before school and started goofing off. Again, absent-mindedness and distraction were common themes in my childhood… and adulthood for that matter. My mother always required that we start homeschool at precisely 8:00am. When my goofing off led me to miss that deadline, I was due for punishment. My mother came upstairs and saw me laughing with my sister while I fidgeted around with the bed I was supposed to be making. She scolded me angrily and told me that I was already late for school and my bed wasn’t even made yet. Startled, I apologized, told her I had lost track of the time, apologized some more, and then offered to make my bed faster. She did tell me to finish making my bed. And when I was finished, she said, I should come downstairs for a spanking.
That was always a heart-wrenching feeling. It didn’t matter if I was sorry, or if I promised to do better, or if I made my bed on time for the rest of the week, or if I even offered to make hers for her to make up for it. I had sinned, and the only proper punishment was physical pain. Indeed, forgiveness could not be obtained from my mother until she hit me and made me cry. It seemed unjust to me, but more than anything, it was heartbreaking for a young child. I truly wanted to make my mother happy and to do right by her. But, when spankings became involved, there was no way to make it right anymore. It was only my fate to accept the pain in order to be forgiven and returned to my valued place in the family. That is a horrible lesson to teach a child. It is also a dangerous lesson, because…
Spanking teaches children that violence and humiliation can be deserved.
I have never been physically abused by anyone. I suspect I am quite lucky in this regard. However, I have physically abused myself. And when I did, I thought of it as a method of atonement. Can I trace this mindset reliably back to my parents spanking me? Perhaps not. I suspect that many other factors played a greater role in my self-destructive habits, including sheltering and authoritarian principles. However, I think it is likely that the mindset instilled in my by using spanking as a punishment was a contributing factor.
When I was 23 years old, I came out to my family. I was already in graduate school on the other side of the Atlantic from my parents. We spent many hours discussing the topic of homosexuality on the phone, arguing over scriptures and opinions, and often crying over harsh words and cruel remarks. Despite all of this, I felt compelled to come home for a Summer to try to talk to my parents face-to-face, help them come to terms with my sexual identity, and heal the family wounds.
Instead of offers of peace, however, I was met with militant efforts to fix me. My access to the internet and phone were restricted, I was shamed into being silent about what was happening, I was harangued and bullied daily by my parents, and I was blamed for “destroying the family”. I honestly believed every accusation they threw at me, and I began to feel I had made myself too worthless to be redeemed. I couldn’t make things right. So, I decided I deserved to be hurt.
I restrained myself from causing too much damage, largely because I didn’t want my family to be able to recognize the marks. I would kick my shins against the end-table in the living room to raise welts and bruises. I would scratch at the skin on my stomach, upper thighs, and arms to make myself bleed. I felt like I deserved to hurt; I deserved violence. I deserved their humiliation. I deserved their emotional abuse. All of it, I deserved.
And why shouldn’t I? My family had always taught me never to let anyone hurt me, always to respect myself, and always to stand up for myself. But yet, they crossed those boundaries repeatedly when I was a child. I was taught that there WERE situations where violence, humiliation, and a lack of self-respect were deserved. Those were the situations when I had been bad. I was a bad child. I deserved pain. Is it so hard to imagine that these toxic thoughts could have carried over into my adulthood? Is it possible that I was horrifically susceptible to abuse by my parents because of some of the lessons that corporeal punishment taught me? I think it is likely.
Let me offer some fundamental pieces of advice. You should always be honest enough to own up to your mistakes. You should always try to make those mistakes right. And you NEVER deserve violence or humiliation… not from anyone else, and not from yourself. I think most people would agree with the statements above. But then, if I truly believe these things, why would I advocate for a form of punishment that taught me the opposite?
I do not believe my parents abused me as a child. They were loving. They were faithful. They were gentle. They were wonderful parents, in many ways. But their choice to spank me was unwise. It didn’t ruin me. It didn’t cause me to become violent or socially repressed or less intelligent. But it was not healthy. We need not talk in extremes in order to still condemn a practice that is teaching children unhealthy lessons. I can do better than the last generation. I will not spank my children.
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I was raised without spanking and STILL, I also suffer from this mysterious post-traumatic psychological condition called RESPECT for others as well ! No violence in my childhood and I turned out perfectly fine. Spanking is not education, spanking is not discipline, spanking is not LOVE. I am not going to say that it is abuse, because some people were raised with spanking and are as OK as I am. I even heard stories about children who deliberatly chose to be spanked, because they thought it was better from them...but ONLY for them. But that apart, spanking is not good parenting. This method should never be imposed on children who could be raised by other means. It does not teach them well and does not show them that being punished is the part of a loving process. Spanking is not love, it is violence, it is spanking.
You sir restored some faith of mine in humanity with this post, thank you for that !
But I think the real problem is the lack of common sense. I can hardly tolerate people who give light swats, but I don't think it will kill the child (although I persist in thinking that there are other ways ; a parent who needs to hit has failed in his task). However, I do NOT understand who some parents can just bend their kids over the knees in a humiliating position, drop their pants and beat the hell out of them. Some of them don't even hug or comfort afterwards, it disgusts me.
Too often, the line between spanking and child abuse gets blurred.
That book, by the way, is now implicated in the deaths of 3 different children, along with the horrific abuse of hundreds more. I wish that hell existed just so I could watch the Pearls screaming and burning. They are not human; they are monsters and they deserve to die without mercy.
It is...curious to me, I suppose, that your mother would say those things before and after she spanked you. Whenever my mother spanked me, it was always in a state of rage. She always had to wrangle me and restrain me in order to spank me, and she did so very angrily. To my knowledge, I don't remember her ever trying to comfort me after the fact, she usually left me, yelled at me some more, or screamed at me to go to my room. Love was never an emotion I perceived from the.... sessions, shall we call them. Only intense anger on her part and extreme fear on my part.
I was never spanked with a spoon, but there were times where whatever I had done infuriated my mother so that she would pull my pants and underpants down enough to spank me right on my skin. My twin sister got the same treatments whenever she did or said something deemed wrong. (It was always hard to tell what would set our mother off, it still is. She would also do more than just spank us. Pinching, sometimes with a twisting motion involved, also happened, as well as smacking on the face or head, and occasionally being hit hard with an object, usually on the head.)
I, too, learned to lie to get out of trouble and avoid responsibility for my actions. I, too, saw my mistakes as "the end of the world" (still do) and would spend more time and effort wound up with anxiety and despair about them than actually working to fix or overcome them. I, too, lived with the notion that if I was bad, I must deserve physical pain as punishment.
"Enforcement is the refuge of the weak who need to push their will over others."
Living with my mom was tough, because you never knew if something you did or something she just plain didn't like, whether or not you did it, would send her into a tirade. I tried giving honest answers when she asked why I had done something I did, but whenever I spoke up she would only get more angry, it didn't matter what I said. So I learned to keep quiet and never answer her questions, because the punishment for silence was never as bad as the punishment for anything I said.
One incident that struck me to the core that I'll never forget or forgive my mom for is the day she was spanking me for one of my usual transgressions, and she decided that she didn't like the fact that I cried during spankings (no shit, I was a child and they hurt, pain=tears) so she spanked me harder for crying and didn't let up on the spanking until I was silent.
I was beaten for crying. I learned then that nobody cared about my pain and suffering, and that if I had a problem I needed to withdraw into myself and suffer through it alone, and in complete silence. I couldn't risk my mom finding out hat I would often cry at night, so I learned to cry almost completely silently.
My childhood sucked, man.
Also, pertaining to your story, anybody who'll reject someone purely based on their sexual orientation is scum. I find gender to be mostly irrelevant when the topic of love pops up. People are naturally attracted to what they happen to be attracted to, it's no use punishing people for things as deeply ingrained in their nature as sexual orientation is.
Who/what I fuck isn't the business of anyone besides the ones I'm fucking anyways. #rebel
My parents spanked me until I was about 12, and though they weren't abusive about that in particular, they were abusive in other ways, most of which were psychological in nature. My parents' most common tactics included gaslighting, changing the rules around on a whim, passive-aggression, making orders that sounded like suggestions, and making a mountain out of a molehill on a regular basis.
I ended up doing self-harm (slapping myself upside the head, specifically) well into my 30's. I have never gotten along with either of my parents since I left their house, and it's gotten to the point now where I literally am terrified of them ever finding out where I live. I actually hate my parents because of some of the horrible things they did to me. I can even think of a couple of times when they literally tried to kill me, the latest one happening just after I turned 40. I try not to dwell on this stuff very long, because I begin to relive everything, so enough about all that.
Anyway, my parents were actually quite civil when it came to spanking, which is ironic given all the nasty other stuff they did to me. Mother was kinda wild with the wooden spoon, and my step-father was far more reasonable in the use of his belt, but the only lessons any of their punishments taught me was that might makes right, that I deserved to be severely harmed for minor offenses, and that standing up for myself was always the worst sin I could ever commit.
Perhaps the biggest irony of my childhood is that my parents always lamented the fact that I never stood up to bullies. It's ironic because these are the same people who wouldn't let me protect my own face when my step-father raised his hand to strike me alongside the head. That particular abusive behavior taught me perhaps the most important lesson of my life: authority figures are not automatically worthy of respect or trust. Fear, yes. Respect and/or trust, no.
I grew up in a household where, while I actually don't remember spanking as a frequent occurrence (might be blocking those memories out, not sure), one had to walk on eggshells to appease my father. I learned to avoid situations where I was to be responsible for an act, just so I could avoid the punishment should that responsibility be executed incorrectly. My father was very very poor at giving directions, and when he wanted me or my sisters to do something, he would not teach us; he would just say, 'get it done'; he set us up for failure most times, just because we were meant to figure out how to execute the task to his standards by pure intuition and prior knowledge. And I learned to be afraid to ask him how to do something, because he would become very, very angry and frustrated. I would interpret that to mean that I wasn't smart enough to read his mind or able to execute the task flawlessly to his expectations on the first go. These tasks would range from everyday chores, to helping him fixing machinery, to sanding buoys, to using tools properly, to executing larger tasks on our own with only his initial command to go on, and too much fear to ask further on how to do what he asked properly.
He would mostly instill obedience by screaming out threats, screaming out shame, through sheer fear-inducing presence and display (he is a very tall and physically capable person, hardened by hard work and a lifetime of abuse and physical pain himself), sometimes throwing things at me, and one time kicking in the bottom panel of a hardwood, very thick door out of blind rage. He was, and still is, frankly terrifying when he is angry, and the constant threat of that impending anger seeped into my very being, sculpting the behaviors I work to shift today.
The worse thing is, none of my sisters or I would know when a tirade would strike, or what would set him off. It could be a chore that we hadn't yet gotten to, but were about to start with all honesty in the next minute, or a task that was actually done just fine a few days ago, but would be deemed inadequate today. He would scream at us for two hours straight in blind rage even if it were a minor transgression, and violence was never far away, even if we weren't physically hurt (sometimes we were).
I remember the point where I finally broke and gave in to his constant questions of 'why did you do this/not do that/make things hard for your mother and the family', where I began to reply out of sheer exasperation, through choking sobs, 'because I'm stupid, lazy, and need to learn better, and should know better.' I thought that this was the response my dad wanted, because I thought that that was the truth that he was trying to get out of me. I had gotten to the point of truly believing my answer, and had wanted to say it in the past, but was often too scared to even reply, fearing that whatever answer I gave would not suffice. And trust me, this answer didn't suffice either - it only made him more angry, because he thought me to be better than that. He wanted a specific answer, such as 'The bowl broke because I was trying to put too many away at once and they toppled out of my arms' (true story), though I never felt that those answers were the ones he wanted, because he would always still be really angry afterward, and never gave me full closure on the incident. His anger would just dissipate, and leave me feeling like it was just bubbling under the surface for another accident to trigger. And he was only trying to do what he knew to do to help discipline me and my sisters - he was asking 'why did you do this' in the way any other parent might, but through a terrifically horrifying filter of rage and frustration.
Wow...I wasn't expecting to type so much here. Your story truly struck a note with me, and I cannot thank you enough for writing what you have. It speaks so many volumes....so many volumes. Thank you. You have inadvertently helped me begin to identify and work through my own issues through sharing your own experiences. Your words are indispensable. Thank you.
A large majority of sadists/masochists were subjected to corporal punishment as children; it could potentially cause those particular kinks. I belong in the minority in that I was not; I have never been hit as punishment before. I only found out that these things happened through being a masochist anyway, and ever since I have been fuming about it. I hope that it will be banned one day; in America as well as completely in England (and everywhere else). Thank you for having the bravery to write this. As I myself prove, even if these problems weren't caused by cp, spanking is completely unnecessary in the bringing up of children; it simply causes unnecessary pain for the child.
I also hope that it will eventually be banned. There are other ways to parent which have been proven to be more effective.
This is a great argument! My story is similar, I was no abused and I love my parents. But I to have a memory of lying to avoid spanking I also do recall saying something along the lines of this to my mother after "running away" in reality I walked home from school without telling anyone what I planned
She dealed out her punishment of taking stuff away and making me write a 5 page paper about why going some were without telling someone is not a good idea. A some point she said something along the lines of "What if you had been hurt?!" Now being upset that she didn't 'understand' that I was trying to be responsible I replied "I'm in trouble both ways right? So obviously if something bad happened to me it would be my punishment. Its not that different is it? One way I get this, the other way I would get that." To me my logic was sound, its just a different punishment you get one or the other. I distinctly remember my mother suddenly going crazy with comments like "how could you say that?! Its not the same!" I being 12 could not comprehend this and even though a few days after saying it I realized that maybe I shouldn't have said that it still made since to me. My regret was more of; causing my mother to start another rant.
But I still supported spanking. I was a A, B student, focused, typically quiet, liked veggies and fruits, for all intents I was a well mannered child. So I of course looked at children who were not spanked and how unruly they were, F,C,Ds messing around in class and so very loud. That was the difference I saw in them, they were not spanked. I was not yet wise enough to understand that I was that way because at a young age I was never sat in front of a tv and told to be quite and then left alone with no interaction, I was not permitted to listen to vulgar music, I was rather insolated from other children that might have been bad influences, and I lived with people who loved veggies and reading and all of that.
My point being that this took me down my rather limited memory lane and I just had to fav this because of how true it is.
So, I have to admit that your title alone left a bad impression upon me. I went into the article with a very negative opinion of what I thought I would encounter. To be honest though, this is by far the best argument I have ever seen against it. It's definitely changed the way I've thought about spanking. Yet, I'm sure I will still end up using it in certain situations. Although I went into the article with a negative impression, I finished quite impressed. You should totally write more when you have time. =]
I hope you're doing well! <3
I haven't seen you in forever either! I'm about to go read your journal so that I know what's up in your life. In my life, I'm sitting around on the couch having a lazy day, since Chels is gone for the weekend to see her folks. I have a job right now teaching Math at a career college, and my tutoring is kicking back in now that that Summer is over, so at least I finally have a little extra paycheck on the side. I'm also preparing to apply to gradschools and retake the Physics GRE in hopes of getting into a PhD program next year. I'm both excited and a little nervous. My problem is, I'm having a hard time finding schools to apply to. It's so frustrating, because I found a program I really, really love in Montana, but I'm not willing to attend school there for potentially 5 years when their laws prohibit any form of marriage or union. I can hold off on the piece of paper for a while when it's just Chels and me, but within 5 years, I might want to have a family. I'm just not willing to have kids involved if I don't have legal protections in case anything happened. So, basically, I'm in the position of "go to the school of your choice or have a family in the next 5 years, but you can't do both." It kinda sucks. Right now, that's leaving me with one option: University of New Hampshire. I'm still looking, but haven't scared anything else up yet.
On the bright side, I'm still planning to propose. I've started working on designing a ring, and if I can get it made by the last weekend in August (big if) I will probably propose then since we're going together to our favorite spot to spend the weekend. It is a little island off the coast of NC that you can get to on a little ferry. There are no cars or anything else... you just hike over the island to get to the beach carrying anything you need with you. As such, there's hardly anyone there, and the place is just so beautiful and wild. I'd love to ask her there. We'll see if that works out.
Things with my family are a little not great. I haven't seen them since May, which is fine with me. They have been asking to see me since then though. They asked if we could plan a day-meeting somewhere in between their place and mine, so that neither of us has to make the full drive and we could just hang out somewhere for a day or so. I was quite agreeable to this and went ahead and offered a date (this weekend) and told them a good place to meet. And then, all of the sudden, they decided they didn't want to because of "several reasons". They now want to go on vacation to the beach somewhere, and they want to spend the night, so they want to do it after labor day prices go back down. They are inviting me along if I want to go, but after this month, I can't until October because of GRE and other things I have going on this coming month. It stung a little since I thought the whole point was for us to be able to see each other, but whatever. I guess that makes things easier for me. So, probably I'll go see them sometime in October and I am going to have to set an ultimatum for them if I've proposed to Chelsey by then: they need to stop expecting me to censor her out of my life if they want to continue to have a relationship with me. I dunno how well that's going to go over. I'm bracing myself for perhaps losing them altogether, but at this point, we don't really have a relationship anyway. On the other hand, if they start wanting to make a better effort then I might have to deal with them more, and that's going to be stressful. Still, the discussion needs to happen. I'm not going to edit my partner out of conversation for the rest of my life; that's just childish and stupid.
Anyway, that's what's up in my life. I hope you're also well! I'm going to go read your journal now. All the best!
Designing a custom ring? Oh, I can help you with that! You can have Chelsey make it! She does a ton of custom work. I wish I had photos of the very wide range of it that she does (she only seems to have one men's ring up here right now...), but you can start by looking here: www.etsy.com/shop/shiningdarkl… Hopefully soon I will be able to update her website with a nice gallery of all of the work she's done, not just the ones currently for sale. If you want examples of something more specific, just let me know. You can contact her through Etsy and ask about designing whatever you want and for a price quote. She will do up some little sketches for you, get your approval on one, and make it. If you're interested, tell her I sent you.
Thank you for the compliment! I need to get some more pictures of us. There are pitifully few, and it's a little awkward with facebook because people might flip shit if they see us together but... I'm past the point of giving a damn anymore. I don't do much on facebook lately except argue with some of my old homeschooling peers, haha! It's quite entertaining.
I'm glad to hear you're with someone new that you really like. Your old girlfriend sounded like a pain in the ass (no offense, but she did...) so I'm happy that you've found someone less passive-aggressive and more mature. Good luck with the whole seeing your mother thing. My mom just emailed me asking when she can call me. I'm thinking "umm... can you not?" Ugh. I just don't like dealing with the family. Good luck with the paper. I hope it turns out well! Write back when you get a chance!
The ring that I'm thinking of would most likely be an engagement and wedding ring combination. When the two parts are joined together they would form a heart around the center stone. She has some neat stuff on there. For the ring I would either go with white gold or standard gold with a diamond as the main stone. Or, if for some reason I wouldn't go that route, I have an uncut ruby that I would like to sometime get cut into a heart shape and put on a ring.
No need to thank me, you're both beautiful and shouldn't be afraid to hide it. =] The only time I spend on facebook is just to see if I have any messages or notifications, otherwise I'm never online for extended periods. I just keep it to keep in touch with people I care about and to keep tabs on a few individuals as well.
The old girlfriend certainly was a pain and more trouble than she was worth. I was just too blind to see it for so long. But I'm happy now and Megan doesn't try to play any games or do anything that irritates, annoys, or angers me. My mom should be working for the majority of the time I'll be there, and it is more of a trip to pick up stuff I need than to visit anyone. Hopefully it goes well then, but we'll have to see. And if you mother and e-mail, why not just tell her that is the best way to communicate, that you're usually too busy for calls? That is what I would try.
OH! And since you brought up the paper, I might end up not even doing it. Less than an hour ago I received the acceptance e-mail from the WI Department of Corrections saying that I have been selected to continue through the Correction Officer selection process. The next steps will be medical (Sept. 10) and physical (Sept. 11) testing. So that just made my night. I'm basically guaranteed admittance. So yeah, I'm happy.
If you are interested, you should definitely email her about the engagement/wedding band. She's done engagement/wedding combos before, and I'm sure she could tell you better than I could what it would take to make what you want, what sized stone you might want, what the price range would be, etc. When the ring is separated, what would it look like? I'm curious. Would the stone be in the V part of the heart on the engagement ring, and then the wedding band would have the double-humped part? Also, do you plan to give it to someone soon?
Yeah, I would also generally think that saying "email is the best contact method" would be best... except that I've only said that a million times by now. >__< They generally accept it for a while and then start pressing with "well, if you're schedule is better now, how about we set up a time to call?" I rebuff again and, in a little while, they start questioning again about "when can I call you?" like they didn't hear me. I'm frustrated as hell by it because it feels so passive-aggressive to me. Like "we know she doesn't want to talk, but let's just keep bringing it up innocently until we eventually wear her down." I guess it's sorta working. I don't mind talking to them sometimes, but only if I know exactly what we're going to talk about, so I can be sure the conversation won't derail. It's less stressful for me that way. I'd rather just email. Also, if I'm talking on Skype, I have to be in another room from Chelsey or they might freak out if they see her. It's stupid as fuck. Oh, look! She wrote me back saying "I just want to call because I miss you and want to talk to you sometimes, so I guess I'll just call you whenever and see." *sigh* She clearly isn't leaving the option of NOT calling open. Well, I'll tell her to give me HER schedule so that I can call at a time that is good for me. This also means I'll be prepared and doing things on my terms, and thus will not be as stressed out about it.
Alright, I'd better head to Chels' work to grab lunch before I have tutoring! I'll catch you again later!