i got suspended, XD... 4 nothing!!!

 i thought i was just going to have a cozy little corner on tumblr — maybe make a cute blog, play with a macos-style theme, and enjoy the aesthetics. i did not expect to get banned in roughly 10–20 minutes of editing. but here we are.

here’s the timeline:

09:10 pm — i created my tumblr account, full of excitement.

09:12 pm — i verified my email. the blog was brand new, untouched, pristine.

09:15–09:35 pm — i opened the theme editor to paste a custom macos theme i found. i updated my html, saved a few times, and admired how my blog could finally look cute.

around 09:31 pm — i noticed my page wasn’t showing up in third-person view. confused, i sent an appeal immediately.

and then… boom. account terminated. in roughly 10–20 minutes of actual activity. no posts. no reblogs. no interaction. just me being… me — a human, curious, and apparently too competent.

looking back, i think i know why. tumblr’s automated system probably saw:

• a brand-new account.
• rapid html edits in a short burst.
• possibly external links or assets in the theme.
• an almost-immediate appeal after verification.

…which, in algorithm-speak, screams: “suspicious bot activity detected.”

so here i am, banned for literally just trying to make my blog look cute. nothing offensive, nothing nsfw, nothing against the rules. just… too fast, too curious, too human.

it’s wild, frustrating, and kind of hilarious when you think about it. compared to the endless chaos of instagram, reels, and tiktok, tumblr could have been the perfect cozy corner for creativity. instead, i got ai-terminated before i could even settle in.

moral of the story?

if you’re a human who actually knows html, loves aesthetics, or just wants to tinker, maybe give the ai a few hours before going full wizard mode. or stick to platforms that respect your speed and creativity — blogger, neocities, friendproject, spacehey, and the like.

lesson learned: being competent on the internet is apparently a crime.

Why I'm Done With Roblox

I no longer enjoy Roblox because the platform doesn’t respect adults or provide meaningful freedom.

I first saw Roblox ads on cable in 2011, and while I technically made an account in 2016, I had been engaging as a guest for several years before that. Counting those early years, I’ve been involved with the platform for over a decade. Despite that long history, I only keep four friends and never add anyone else, partly because there’s no auto-reject feature for friend requests.

Unsolicited requests—mostly from minors—are a constant annoyance, and the social system feels broken for someone who wants a private, controlled experience. Even with chats turned off and grayscale mode enabled, Roblox forces me to interact on its terms, which makes the platform feel restrictive and frustrating.

The platform’s chat filters and voice chat restrictions are another major problem. Even in private servers with only my friends, I can’t swear or speak naturally.

Arbitrary rules like the 21+ threshold for language infantilize adults and make “mature” or 17+ games feel pointless, since you can still get warned or reported for harmless speech. Roblox punishes responsible adult behavior while failing to offer any real autonomy, which turns play into a chore rather than an enjoyable experience.

Roblox also mishandles safety in ways that affect both kids and adults.

Nazis, KKK groups, and other hateful clans can bypass moderation, while users who call out this behavior are often silenced. At the same time, minors are exposed to predatory behavior, including manipulative sexualized avatars. The system over-censors harmless adult activity yet fails to protect users from actual risks.

This combination leaves everyone—adults and kids alike—feeling unsafe.

My own experience reflects these problems.

I regret giving Roblox my ID after being pressured by a fake friend, which highlighted the platform’s lack of protection for users and its exploitative practices. Over the years, I’ve disengaged from games entirely.

I haven’t found a Roblox game I genuinely enjoyed since 2020, and now I mostly log in just to collect login bonuses. The platform’s repetitive, kid-focused, and monetization-heavy design no longer aligns with my maturity or interests.

By contrast, adult forums and 18+ platforms provide the freedom Roblox claims to offer but fails to deliver.

Everyone over 18 is treated equally, rules are based on behavior rather than arbitrary age restrictions, and conversations can happen naturally without constant fear of moderation. NSFW content is controlled and consensual, and communities are able to self-police in ways Roblox cannot.

These spaces respect autonomy, allow responsible adults to interact meaningfully, and feel far safer than Roblox ever has.

Ultimately, Roblox doesn’t allow adults to exist as adults.

I’ve had to adapt just to survive—limiting friends, creating private servers, turning off chat, and using grayscale mode—but even then, the platform infantilizes and restricts me. Between overbearing censorship, exposure to predatory or hateful users, arbitrary rules, and meaningless moderation, Roblox is no longer a platform I can engage with safely or enjoyably.

I’ve outgrown it, and there’s no way to reclaim the sense of exploration or freedom I had when I first played years ago.

꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ || why the #$@% would i want to be sober in front of a group of teenagers??!

high school dances like homecoming and prom are supposed to be milestones.

in reality?

gymnasiums, fluorescent lights, chaperones, and teenagers glued to their phones are not milestones — they’re a form of surveillance.

and honestly — why would i want to be sober in front of a group of teenagers?

i’ve always dressed for myself, not for approval. low-rise pants, tank tops, retro 2000s vibes — that’s my energy, my armor, my signature.

being forced into a skimpy, ill-fitting dress would have felt like something straight out of a utena tenjou moment: stripped of agency, put in a role i never auditioned for. 

if i’m going to dress up, i’m not doing it halfway. i better look like elizabeth taylor, claudette colbert, or a young coco chanel — sculpted, tailored, iconic. if it’s not going to be that moment, why even bother?

so yes, i skipped prom. and no, i don’t regret it. glamour isn’t about following a checklist or appeasing fluorescent lights; it’s about creating your moment.

my tailored “new dior-inspired” dress sits quietly in my closet, waiting for occasions worthy of the effort: nights out with friends, curated photo archives, weddings, vintage-themed occasions… and yes, the club.

the club is where the magic happens. loud music, tipsy chaos, neon lights, and me fully owning bimbo hottie energy — the kind that would make a 50s film star raise an eyebrow. we’ll take wild photos on retro phones, archive them, maybe even show my future spouse someday — who will undoubtedly be like: “???!!!!” (when they see the chaos and glamour colliding perfectly).

and yes — until i reach a new life stage, like becoming a mom or stepping into another symbolically mature moment — i’ll mostly avoid longer, formal dresses. the day i choose to wear more dresses post-mom will be my way of saying: i’ve grown as a lady by choice.

it won’t be about obligation or expectation — it will be a deliberate celebration of maturity, intention, and evolution from my carefree, rebellious younger self.

plus, let’s be real: post-mom, jeans and tight pants might hurt my pelvic floor — dresses will actually be a comfort choice as much as a style one.

that said, whether or not i become a mom, chances are you still won’t see me wearing many dresses.

i love my laidback, retro, low-rise clothes too much — they’re the armor i’ve built to move freely, feel confident, and be fully myself.

if i somehow end up childless — fine.

i’ll just keep rocking loose, worn-in jeans, trucker caps, and weekend comfort fits like a low-key dad, tech-geek style.

dresses will always be intentional, reserved for moments that actually deserve them. and here’s the ultimate rule: if you somehow see me in 10–to-15 years wearing a dress, chances are i’ve got a ring on my finger and tied the knot.

otherwise? not happening. glamour isn’t casual.

it’s purposeful & deliberate.

and it’s mine to decide when, where, and why.

i skipped prom not because i reject femininity, glam, or fun — but because those things demand intentionality, tailoring, and agency. i’ll dress up when it matters. i’ll be messy when i choose. i’ll archive chaos for my own enjoyment. i’ll create the vintage moment every single time.

because the truth is simple:
glamour isn’t just clothes — it’s power, choice, context, and making sure every inch of you is worth the attention you actually want.

and no lame, organized high school event can ever give me that.

°❀.ೃ࿔* || my metamorphosis — from being masked to transforming into a mermaid

i navigated a whirlwind of identity, social drama, and self-discovery during my early-to-mid adolescence.

my teenage years were a rollercoaster — boyish, androgynous, hyper-feminine, and eventually, embracing classic feminine beauty.

the boyish experiment

before my growth spurt, i avoided pink — despite loving it — and wore blacks and navys, wanting to present as male. it wasn’t rebellion; it was exploration.

i experimented with masking, even crossdressing one day when my brother gifted me a polo beanie. with a black mask to hide my profile, i pulled off a convincing boyish look. people, even my ex, noticed. i got compliments for the way i could blend and adapt, while others, like my bully, tried to copy me — unsuccessfully, of course.

the hyper-feminine phase

as my body changed, i leaned into hyper-femininity — pinks, frills, and high energy. i was learning to navigate validation, romantic attention, and the constant social pressure of high school. i apologized for not being feminine enough to someone i cared about, only to realize later that my self-worth should never hinge on someone else’s approval.

i never chased anyone, asked for likes, or curated a social media persona. i was solo, and it wasn’t lonely — i carried an aura of self-sufficiency that made my presence undeniable.

toxic crushes and lessons in ego

my ex-boyfriend: he chased multiple girls, pitted us against each other, and assumed everything i did was flirting or an attempt to win him back.

i tried kindness, fairness, and equal footing — and he framed it as “humiliation.” i snapped. i set boundaries.

i asserted myself. i became the “lone wolf” — independent, respected, and unbothered by his manipulations. he feared me, glanced at me from afar, but ultimately couldn’t control the one thing i’d learned to own: myself.

scrutiny was constant: every outfit, gesture, or smile was dissected by peers and teachers alike. but i leaned into it.

during my classic beauty era, i embraced 2000s fashion — the tailored pieces, delicate accessories, and confident styling — as armor and expression.

over time, the same people who once scrutinized me began to respect me: not for appearances alone, but for the intelligence, composure, and quiet strength i carried beneath the surface.

the glow-up

through all of it, i evolved: from boyish experimentation to hyper-femininity to classic feminine beauty. my hair is now long and wavy, my confidence self-earned, and my sense of self independent of anyone else’s ego. i’ve accepted my body, my cycles, and my choices. i no longer need validation — i radiate it naturally.

i plucked my brows thin and arched not just for style, but to maintain composure and elegance — a subtle signal that i paid attention to harmony and balance in my appearance. compared to peers who didn’t prioritize these details, it set me apart. every choice, from my makeup to posture, was a reflection of my self-respect and quiet confidence.

my style evolved just as much as i did. i went from men’s-sized clothing, exploring androgyny and boyish experimentation, to feminine kogal-inspired outfits, embracing playful, hyper-feminine energy during my teenage years. finally, i transitioned into relaxed 2000s-inspired clothing — chic, confident, and effortlessly expressive — as i embraced classic feminine beauty.

fashion wasn’t just about appearances; it was armor, self-expression, and a reflection of my growth. each phase mirrored who i was learning to be: experimental, bold, and finally, self-possessed.

reflections on power and growth

looking back, i realize that every challenge — the bullying, the toxic relationships, the insecurity — was part of building resilience, emotional intelligence, and self-possession. i was the heroine of my own story, the lone wolf who saved herself.

closing thoughts

adolescence is messy, confusing, and sometimes painful. but it’s also where we learn to navigate identity, assert boundaries, and emerge empowered. looking back, i’m proud of the girl who experimented, the one who fought, and the one who ultimately embraced herself fully.

why you will never force me to make a normie account

tiktok, instagram, snapchat, & facebook — nope. the “big four?" absolutely not.

you will never make me sign up for one.

i keep it minimal: pinterest and x are fine, useful even, but that’s it. my life isn’t a feed for everyone else to scroll through.

i grew up on windows 7, flash games, friendproject, myspace, spacehey — i like exploring, building, learning, not following trends.

i type fast, i know how the web works, i can navigate chaos and still find the good stuff. i don’t need a normie account to fit in or feel relevant.

and no one’s going to change that.

₊˚⊹ᰔ ˖˚⊹ me & my 2 smart besties: twilight (mlp) & blossom (ppg)

so, picture this:

professor utonium’s lab, chemicals bubbling, machines whirring, and somehow, of course, twilight sparkle and blossom are there with me!

me: “alright, chemistry test tomorrow… i literally don’t understand equilibrium equations at all.”

twilight: “don’t panic. i ran simulations using magic, and it’s basically the same logic. we can figure it out.”

blossom: “i made a plan. we split the problems, track progress, and you’ll get it by the end of the day.”

me, grinning: “or… we could use the telepathy device.”

twilight, holding a sparkly contraption: “already ready. magic-powered, obviously.”

blossom, holding a little mechanical headset: “and i built the interface. works perfectly with your brainwaves.”

so we huddle together, chaos everywhere — wires, scrolls, floating books, and diagrams on every surface. i’m whispering python tricks, blossom is timing everything like a pro, and twilight is magically annotating my notes. somehow, learning chemistry doesn’t suck. it’s fun. ridiculous. chaotic. perfect.

by the end, the test is over. somehow, i get 100%. i’m ecstatic.

me: “wait… we technically cheated?”

twilight, floating books with a smirk: “maybe. but it worked because we’re brilliant, and you actually understand everything now. that’s what matters.”

blossom, adjusting her headset and grinning: “exactly. and we totally get why you hated your chemistry teacher. no judgment. just good vibes, strategy, and winning together.”

technically unethical. totally chaotic. but we win with magic, brains, creativity, and friendship. my nerd squad pulled through — and honestly, i’d do it all over again.

the day starts in professor utonium’s lab — beakers bubbling, machines whirring, and somehow, of course, twilight sparkle and blossom are here too. the ultimate nerd squad.

me: “alright, chemistry test tomorrow… i literally don’t understand equilibrium equations at all.”

twilight: “don’t panic. i ran simulations using magic, and it’s basically the same logic. we can figure it out.”

blossom: “i made a plan. we split the problems, track progress, and you’ll get it by the end of the day.”

me, grinning: “or… we could use the telepathy device.”

twilight, holding a sparkly contraption: “already ready. magic-powered, obviously.”

blossom, holding a little mechanical headset: “and i built the interface. works perfectly with your brainwaves.”

we huddle together in the lab — wires, floating books, diagrams everywhere. i’m whispering python tricks, blossom is timing everything like a pro, and twilight is magically annotating my notes. somehow, learning chemistry doesn’t suck. it’s chaotic, ridiculous… perfect.

fast forward to the next day: i’m sitting at my desk in chemistry class, pencil in hand, staring at the test like it’s written in another dimension. the telepathy device buzzes.

twilight (in my head): “circle B for question three. no, not C. B.”

blossom (in my head): “and question seven — A. trust me.”

i smirk, carefully following their whispers while the teacher drones on. chaotic, unethical, totally genius vibes.

by the end of the test, i glance down at my paper: 100%. i nearly fall out of my chair.

twilight (mental whisper): “see? you actually understood everything.”

blossom (mental whisper): “and now you officially survived chemistry. victory.”

it was an unethical approach, i know, but you don't understand: i really needed it.

we win — with brains, magic, strategy, and friendship.