From your host, Jess:

Friends of Captain Awkward meetup – Perth, Australia

When:

Saturday 18th August, 2.30pm

Where:
Aroma Cafe
Kardinya Park Shopping Centre
Kardinya, WA

(Store 32 on this map – http://www.kardinyapark.com/stores/)

Details:
BYO craft or colouring in activity, and/or just come along to have a coffee and chat with other fans of this blog.

How to find us:
I will get there 5-10 early and put a sign on the table that says FOCA. I have long dark brown hair.

Questions? Suggestions for future meetups? 

Please join our discussion thread in the Meetups section of the Friends of Captain Awkward forums. (Note: you will need to log in to the FOCA forum to see the thread).
Enjoy the day!

Hello, it’s on!

Patrons can submit questions here (advantage: 1st dibs, more words). Anyone/Everyone can submit on Twitter (@CAwkward, #awkwardfriday), questions close at noon Chicago time, I answer as many as I can and update as I go between noon and 1pm. Whatever I don’t have time for gets held over for next week. Comments open once everything is posted.

This is also the last day (for a while, at least) that I remind folks about supporting the site. You can become a patron or send a donation anytime, of course, but these biannual reminder drives really help me be able to plan out nice things! One of these nice things: I’m officially hiring a graphic designer and a proofreader/formatter to put the finishing touches on an e-book of previously-published columns called #ThisF-ing Guy (And How To Avoid Him), so I can make it available before the end of the year. Thank you so much for all the support so far. This site is a labor of love, but it is labor, and it feels so great to be able to say “I run a fan-supported advice website.”

Cue the jazz flute which, I confess I started out including as a humorous homage to the NPR and WGBH-Boston pledge drives of my youth and my middle-school bad flute playing, but then I ended up listening to a crapload of jazz flute on YouTube this week, and now I’m like “JAZZ FLUTE IS AWESOME, MOAR JAZZ FLUTE PLEASE.” Proving that irony will lose out to sincerity every damn time.

Let’s begin: Talking to the neighbors about misbehaving kids, KITTENS, ADHD and learning to take compliments, bickering family/feeling bad about interacting with family, crushes (it’s okay to just ignore them!), when do you know if couples’ counseling is working, how to therapy, when to say ‘I love you’, drop-in houseguests, parents who want you to be their therapist, compliments that aren’t compliments.

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Hi Captain,

You know how there’s a coping mechanism of putting stressful or damaging thoughts/memories in an imaginary box and closing it until you feel ready to deal with them? I have two literal boxes of potentially upsetting artifacts, and I don’t know what to do with them.

Condensed backstory: My parents had a very long, acrimonious, complicated divorce throughout my elementary school years (age 6ish-11ish). I’m an only child. I haven’t had contact with my father in about 25 years.

I have very few memories of this time, and what I do remember is vague and blurry, with brief instances of clarity. For example, I remember that part of the custody agreement at one point was that my father could never be alone with me in a bedroom or bathroom. I remember locking myself in my bathroom and refusing to go with him and the cops being called. (I was an intensely obedient child, so this was almost indescribably outside my normal scope of behavior.)

During these years, my mom recorded everything. She wrote pages and pages documenting everything every day and, I think, recorded (and transcribed?) family therapy sessions. She kept all of this in a couple of boxes in a spare room until she downsized to a condo several years ago. At that point, I ended up with the boxes. I don’t remember if she asked me to keep them or if she told me to or if we even had a conversation about it at all. (My relationship with my mom is quite complicated, and I don’t see a path to having a productive conversation with her now about this.)

I was lucky enough to have friends who agreed to keep these boxes in their storage space for me for a few years, but I’ve since moved states. Now, these boxes are in my home. I don’t know what’s in there, and I don’t feel emotionally ready to unpack them right now. I’m afraid of seeing what’s inside — both the content and the framing of it. I’m also afraid of blindly tossing them out. Keeping them unopened in my space has been a workable temporary solution, but it’s beginning to wear on me.

Am I tying myself in knots for nothing? Am I tying myself in knots completely appropriately??

Thanks so much for your time and perspective,

Living with Literal Baggage
(she/her pronouns)

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Hello Chicago Awkward People,

Tomorrow, August 1, I am telling a story about what it’s like to be an advice writer and answer questions like “How are you keeping your shit together when the world is :frantic hand gestures: like this?” when you are not necessarily keeping your shit together at a mental health-themed storytelling and comedy show. Show is at Schuba’s, 3159 N Southport Ave, it starts at 8pm, admission is free, the place serves food & drinks, the show space is up a flight of stairs with no elevator.

Thursday, August 9, 7pm, Uptown Underground Lounge, 4707 N Broadway. I am telling a different story (still working on which one) at my brilliant friend’s web series fundraiser & cabaret show. Look at his adorable cast on this poster! You can buy tickets here or at the door. FYI, getting into this venue also involves stairs.

FOMObanner

Banner for Fear Of Missing Out Web-Series and Show, with show information (also posted as text above the image) on a background with a blue sky. Across the bottom of the image are 8 adorable people variously on their cell phones or making eyes at each other. 

Maybe I will see some of your faces there?

Dear Captain Awkward:

I (35F) have been with my boyfriend (36M) for sixteen months now. We met online and I moved with him after roughly two months. He has led me to believe that he would propose marriage in the time frame of two or three months. He told me this roughly six to eight months ago.

I have been annoyed and angry for the last two months. I love him, but if he is not ready to propose, then why am I here? I cannot ask him to marry me anymore then I could sprout wings and fly. I have given myself a pretty strict mental deadline. Past this date, I end the relationship and start looking for someone else. I love him. I admire him. He loves me. He is very wonderful, caring, and smart. It would devastate me to lose him, but I would hate myself if I stayed in a relationship that did not progress. I would hate knowing I pressured someone into proposing to me. I need to know that he wants to spend his life with me. Points that may not matter:

  • I know some people have a terrible time dating, but I had a lot of fun dating.
  • He pays for my health insurance and our last trip to visit his family.
  • I contribute financially and clean pretty much 95% of the time.
  • Our families love each of us and love the idea of us for each other.
  • There is pressure on both sides for us to marry soon.

Am I doing the right thing? I need to judge people on what they do and not what they say. My walk date is precariously close.

Thank you.
Confused and Sad

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Time for the monthly tradition where we answer the things people typed into search engines as if they are questions.

Before we get to it, it’s Pledge Drive Time! Twice a year, winter and summer, I interrupt our usual programming to remind folks that fun stuff like the Search Terms posts and the Friday short answers are funded by my kind and generous patrons and readers who support the site via PayPal and other ways. These donations allow me to keep the blog ad-free, invest substantial time in maintaining the community, reading the mailbox, and moderating comments, devote time to answering questions and writing new content, pay guest writers, and keep us functioning as an independent site. This year I’m trying to pull back on teaching and be a full-time writer, and your support is necessary and much appreciated for the care and feeding of me & my family. Please make a donation or become a patron if you can. Every little bit helps. (If you can’t afford to, don’t worry ’bout a thing, I’m glad you are here and reading.)

As is traditional, let’s begin with a song to set the mood. Lyrics here :

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