Zenna The Creatress

06/29/2026

Story time:

When I was a young wife, I had a pair of gray leggings that were leopard print.
They were "not flattering" but I have always been a bigger person and they were COMFY and I loved them. I wore them a lot until they went missing.
Years later my ex husband admitted that he threw them away. 🥺

As I have been in stagnation waiting for things to line up, doing what I can but ultimately having to pause myself and reflect... I've processed a lot of things that rightfully p**s me off.

This is one of them. Why would he do that?
Man or Woman, No one OWES you looking hot, looking their best, or fitting themselves into some idealized version you have in your head of them.

Some may want to dress up and fit that for you and when they do? You should WORSHIP THEM because that's a gift.

But everyone deserves to relax and just BE FERKING UGLY sometimes.

Projecting your insecurities on to your loved ones and behaving as though you are somehow ENTITLED to another person is -not- cute.

Knock that 💩 off.

And as a display of my strong feelings for this here is me in my LEAST FLATTERING OUTFIT. 300lbs in gray leggings and a bright orange tee just having fun taking pictures that -aren't- flattering.

D13 mad. 💋

05/28/2026

When I heal I sleep and eat, which is adverse to the insomnia and starvation I'm used to in constant survival mode.

When I heal I build a chrysalis with my body.
I cocoon in blankets and research, video games and music ... I create and I stop prioritizing being a seamless component of the machine.

I'm healing spine and nerve tissues, fractured bones, and so much trauma.

My brain tells me I'm useless. Not worth the air I breathe.

Not unless I'm actively working myself to death..

I started working at 12, babysitting. At 14 I was in retail. At 19 I was married, pregnant and had a year of home health care on my resume.

At 21 I had 2 kids, was struggling with PPD, the breadwinner working 60 hours a week and being severely abused.

At 25 I was leaving my ex husband and afraid of the law and the system. I hid my abuse in shame. I tried to get help and learned that the system that was supposed to be on my side as a mom actually was not.

I found real safety and community at 36 when I left everything that was supposedly family behind.

This is what healing looks like.

I don't love it but it's factual.

And I accept it.

05/27/2026

03/27/2026

SLA (Service Level Agreement)

By Zenna The Creatress

He clung to me like saran wrap, draped about me all day. He fussed and he fixed. He listened and assisted but was always too close for comfort.

I don't blame him. I know I'm inviting, especially when I'm learning you and we've things in common.

I'm new and shiny but somehow familiar. I am this for survival. I don't know what's real and what's survival because surviving is now who I am.

I wish I could say I've never turned an unpleasant first encounter into a learning adventure full of excitement and heartbreak, but it's what I do.

I've fought and escaped, I've run from abuse at every place I came to settle. My home was always in the wild. Either the wilderness of the evolution of telecommunications or the living forests and breathing lakes of the United States.

I've encountered animals and monsters. In men you find both: the ignorance and fumbling folly of the simple, as well as the cunning deception and manipulation of the calculating

Abuse, we call it what it is. Others inflicted themselves on me without respect for my well being or needs.

To some this is survival but, it doesn't have to be.

To people like me, there's a significant part of the path to healing that requires helping others heal. That's where I live.