The Weirdness of People in Second Life

 For the past couple of days, I’ve been wondering why people in Second Life are so weird.

Not in a funny way.
Not in a “haha, that’s quirky” kind of way.

Just… weird.

The kind of weird that makes you stop and think, what is actually going on here?

A couple of days ago, I went to a very popular beach in Second Life.

I already knew how it would go.
No one talks to me.
I sit there for hours.
I do something else on my computer while I just… exist.

That’s usually how it is.

But this time, something different happened.

I actually met someone.

And at first, it was nice.
We had a really pleasant interaction.
There was curiosity, a bit of connection… that feeling of discovering someone new.

And then it shifted.

In the middle of all of that, he started saying things like he wanted to be my dad.

That he felt protective of me.
That he wanted to take care of me.

And I remember thinking… okay.

I told him straight.
I’m not looking for a dad.
You can be caring and protective without me having to call you that.

But it didn’t stop there.

Because what he was really hinting at was something else entirely.

That I would be his daughter…
while still being in a relationship with him.

That was the first blow.

I remember thinking to myself…

please, please, please… don’t be one of those weird people. Please.

I kind of just brushed it off, what he was saying.

I tried to look past it.

We met again the day after.
And one thing led to another, and we had a good time.

And then he came back online in the middle of the night.

He said he couldn’t sleep.

I don’t even remember exactly how we got into it, but he started asking me why I like going to certain hotels in Second Life.

And I just told him the truth.
I like going to hotels because it’s nice.

And it didn’t stop there.

At one point, he asked if we could couple dance.

And then he asked me if I could stand up from my wheelchair so we could do it properly.

And I just sat there thinking…

if I stood up from my wheelchair,
that would defeat the entire purpose of me having one.

So I told him no.

I told him that if I dance,
I dance by going around in circles on the dance floor—

because that’s how I dance in real life.

And that’s when it really clicked for me.

Because underneath what he was saying…

he was asking me to be someone I’m not.
To change something fundamental about myself,
just to fit him better.

That was the second blow.

And then came the third and final blow.

He asked if I would be with someone else while he watched.

And that’s where my complete disconnection happened.

I said no, because that creates drama.

I know you like drama in your Second Life, but I don’t.

And he immediately pushed back.

“What makes you think I like drama?”

And I said… because it literally says so in your profile.
Under role-play.

And then he goes—

“Well, that’s just role-play. That’s where we make up storylines.”

And I just sat there.

Thinking…

okay… so you’re different people depending on your mood.

And by that point, I had already disconnected.

So I didn’t respond to that.

Because to me, that way of thinking feels like a kind of detachment.

Like you can just step in and out of things without them meaning anything.

And maybe that works for some people.

But for me…

If you start treating Second Life like that,
like something you can switch on and off depending on what you feel like that day—

then everything becomes a joke.

You see, for me, Second Life is a virtual world.

It’s just like real life…
just in a different form.

So I don’t get people that roleplay.

I don’t get it, because I don’t do that.

I just exist.

I’m me, 1,000% of the time.

I don’t put on a persona for other people to like me.
And I never will.

And then there’s the way some people talk.

Or text.

In third person.

And I just sit there thinking…

what are you doing?

Because to me, that doesn’t feel natural.
It doesn’t feel real.

It feels like you’re stepping away from yourself.
Like you’re turning yourself into a character instead of just… being a person.

And that’s where I disconnect.

No matter how much I like you,
or dislike you,
or whatever—

I disconnect.

Because for me,
you’re being something other than yourself.

I haven’t seen this guy in a couple of days now.

And honestly… it doesn’t bother me.

Because the moment things started going in that direction, I was already pulling away.

The first step was when he started talking about me being his daughter while still being in a relationship with him.

That alone was enough to make me stop and think.

And then the second step was when he asked me to stand up from my wheelchair so we could dance.

And the third step…

was when he asked me if I would be with someone else while he watched.

That’s when I fully disconnected.

Completely.

And what makes it even more frustrating is that I actually have it written in my profile.

Under my pics section.

It clearly says absolutely not.

So what he was hinting at…
is something I’ve already made very clear I’m not okay with.

Which means he didn’t read my profile properly.

And okay, I get it—
some people only read the first part.

But still.

Why would you ask someone that?

Why would you go there without even knowing where they stand?

Because to me…
that’s not normal behavior.

This is why I stay to myself.

Because every time I try to start a conversation with someone,
it eventually leads to the same thing.

They can’t stay on my level of thinking.

Something always gets twisted.
Something always goes off.

And I just sit there wondering why I even tried.

So at some point, you start asking yourself—

why would I invest my time and energy into that?

And then it turns into a bigger question.

Do normal people even exist anymore?

Normal people…
without all the weird tendencies.
Without the weird sexual behavior.

Where are they?

Where are the normal people from before social media?
From back in the day?

Where the fuck did they go?

Growing Beyond the World That Once Saved Me

 Hi everyone, it's me, Tessa, back at this again.

It's been a couple of weeks since I last wrote anything here, so I thought it was time for a little update.

The truth is, I don't really have that much to talk about when it comes to Second Life right now. Unfortunately, I still feel the same way about it as I have for the past year or so… and I don't think that's going to change anytime soon.

I'm starting to come to the realization that I may have actually outgrown Second Life.

And that feels strange to even say out loud.

When I first started this journey all those years ago, I never in a million years would have imagined that I would one day say something like that. Second Life literally saved my life at one point. It gave me a world to exist in, people to connect with, and a place where I could create when the real world felt very small.

But lately, nothing in Second Life is pulling me anymore.

Nothing is exciting. Nothing makes me want to log in and explore. Nothing gives me that spark that used to keep me there for hours.

Because of that, you haven’t really seen many updates, pictures, or anything like that from my Second Life lately. Simply because there hasn’t been anything that has inspired me enough to share.

Instead, my focus has shifted more and more toward my real life — and honestly, that’s exactly how it should be.

Because in my real life, I’ve found something that has become a huge passion for me.

Lately I’ve been deep diving into nutrition. Meal prep, food science, protein intake, hydration, supplements — all of it. I can spend hours reading about it, experimenting with it, and thinking about how food actually affects the body.

I even started an Instagram account dedicated to that world.

And the truth is, this is where my curiosity and energy live right now.

One thing I’ve realized about myself is that I need conversations that go deep. I need to be able to sit with someone and talk for hours about things like food science, nutrition, metabolism, protein, hydration — the kind of topics that most people don’t really think about.

That kind of intellectual curiosity is what energizes me.

And to be honest, it’s also something that has cost me friendships in my real life. Sometimes when I start talking about something I’m passionate about, people look at me like I’m speaking another language. Not because they’re bad people, but simply because they’re not interested in the same depth of discussion.

And I’ve started noticing the same thing happening in Second Life as well.

To give you an example of what I mean, something happened a couple of weeks ago that really made me stop and think.

I ended up on one of those dating apps inside Second Life. Yes, believe it or not, there are actually dating apps in there.

While scrolling through, I came across a guy I had talked to before. He had liked some of my pictures, so that opened up the possibility for us to talk again.

We started chatting, and pretty quickly he began telling me about how heartbroken he was. Apparently a woman had completely destroyed his heart, and because of that he had now decided that he was never going to fall in love again.

And I’m sitting there at my computer just… rolling my eyes.

Not because heartbreak isn’t real — of course it is — but because the way he talked about it felt so final. Like his entire life had ended because one relationship didn’t work out.

And I remember thinking to myself:

Come on, dude.

Where are the people who don’t give up like that?

Where are the people who have resilience?
Where are the people who keep growing instead of shutting down?

Because if I had reacted to things the way that guy did, I would have been out of Second Life within the first three months of being there.

Second Life can be brutal sometimes. People leave. Friendships fall apart. Relationships end. Communities change. If every disappointment was enough to make someone give up completely, nobody would stay there very long.

So while I understood that he was hurt, part of me was still sitting there thinking:

Okay, I get it. You're heartbroken. Maybe she wasn't the right woman to fall in love with. That happens.

But come on… level yourself up.

Use that moment as fuel.

Become someone better. Stronger. More interesting. More confident. Become the kind of person that makes someone look back later and think, “Wow… I really messed that up.”

That’s always been my way of moving forward.

When people hurt me, when people doubt me, when people walk away from me, I don’t collapse. I don’t give up.

I move forward.

I build something.

I become better.

And in the end, my way of dealing with it has always been very simple:

I make people regret what they did to me.

Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Not with revenge.

Just by becoming someone they underestimated.

Take this blog, for example.

I've been writing in it for fourteen years.

Fourteen years is a long time to keep anything alive on the internet, and yet here it is — still standing, still breathing, still very much mine.

And the reason for that is simple.

My blog has always been different.

It’s never just been about Second Life screenshots or “look of the day” posts, or promoting the latest store, or doing branding deals like most Second Life blogs tend to focus on.

I talk about Second Life, yes — but I also talk about my life inside that world. And I talk about my real life outside of it. I blend the two together, because for me they have never really been separate things.

Second Life is part of my story.

My real life is part of my story.

And this blog has always been the place where those worlds meet.

This blog is my platform.
This blog is my safe space.
This blog is my voice.

It’s my heart.
It’s my mind.

And that’s exactly why it’s one of a kind.

Now let me be clear about something.

This is not a goodbye.

I will — with almost one hundred percent certainty — never close this blog.

But it might evolve.

Because that’s what life does. It evolves.

I am deeply grateful for the years I’ve spent in Second Life. I’m grateful for the people I met there, the experiences I had, and the world that gave me a place to exist when I needed it the most.

Second Life saved my life once.

That is a truth I will never deny.

But now it feels like that chapter of my life has served another purpose as well.

It became a stepping stone.

A stepping stone that helped me grow, helped me find my voice, and helped me discover what truly drives me.

And now it’s leading me into the next chapter of my life.

And if you are one of the people who are still here, still reading this blog after fourteen years…

Thank you.

Truly, from the bottom of my heart — thank you.

Logging Out Quietly

 Hello everyone, it’s me — Tessa.

I just wanted to give you a little update on where my life is right now, and where I stand with Second Life today as well. The last blog post wasn’t positive at all, and honestly not something I wanted to write — but it felt like something I needed to say.

Um… where do I even start?

It feels like the moment I decided to be in my wheelchair full-time in Second Life — because that is my truth in real life — I became a ghost. I stopped being a person to everyone. I’m there, I exist… but at the same time I don’t, because nobody — and I mean nobody — talks to me.

Because of that, and because of what happened in my last blog post, I’ve slowly and quietly stepped away from Second Life.
I mean… what’s the point? People act like I’m not there, like they can’t see me. I have four friends on my list, and one of them is my own alt account that I use for saving my Lindens.

I’ve honestly talked to my real-life husband about shutting Second Life down permanently. He’s the one who stopped me — mostly because of the amount of money I’ve invested into this platform over the last fifteen years… probably millions in my own currency. So even though my account — and my life there — is becoming more and more dormant, he doesn’t want me to delete it. Not because he thinks I’ll regret it emotionally, but because of the sheer value I’ve poured into it over the years. His view is simple: maybe it’s better to just stop logging in… but keep the account alive.

When I decided to be in my wheelchair one hundred percent of the time in Second Life, I knew I might become lonely. I knew I might stop being seen as the “sexy short girl next door.” I was ready for distance… but I wasn’t ready for the loneliness — the complete, heavy isolation from people.

It’s not because I stopped going out. I show up. I exist in the world.
But people don’t really see me. They don’t acknowledge me. They don’t even talk to me.

It feels like living another life layered on top of my real one… and it’s scary to realize that the same things I fight against every day in real life are now following me into Second Life too. Only there, it feels more clinical — more direct, more in your face. Like you become something people don’t want to touch… something they don’t want to talk to. Like you turn into an object in a room full of people — and little by little, you just stop existing to them.

If someone in Second Life could actually experience the shock — the shift in how people see you when you go from a walking avatar to being in a wheelchair — I wish they could feel that change for themselves. Because you who are reading this might think it’s not that big of a deal, or that it’s not that deep.

But it is deep.

It hits your confidence. It hits everything about you when you’re used to people talking to you the moment you walk into a room… and then suddenly there’s nothing. Just silence.

And yes, I know I was the one who started cleaning my friends list. But realizing that nobody — absolutely nobody — came back and asked why… that says a lot.

That realization made me question every single person I ever knew in Second Life. When connections feel this light, it starts to feel like a place filled with people hiding behind their screens — people who don’t know how to exist in the real world and choose the safer distance of a computer instead. And honestly… that realization feels a little crazy to me.

Your next question might be: how did I go from being in Second Life eight to twelve — sometimes even twenty-four — hours a day… to not logging in at all?

Honestly, the answer is simple.

I don’t want to surround myself with people who feel fake or disconnected. I’d rather be in the real world — making real connections, making people laugh, diving deep into the interests I actually want to grow in. That feels more meaningful to me than sitting in my home in Second Life for hours, only to log out after another day of silence.

That isn’t living. And as far as we know, we only get one physical life… and I’ve decided I want to live mine.

For the last couple of months, I’ve been deep-diving into nutrition — not just surface-level research, but really trying to understand how food actually affects the body. Almost down to a microscopic level. The discoveries I’ve made have been really eye-opening. Part of it is connected to the medication I’m on — it’s a lifelong treatment, and I won’t go deeper into that — but the level of clarity, precision, and discipline it’s given me has been honestly mind-blowing.

I’ve been researching calorie intake, macro intake, and what those things actually do inside the body. And when you really start to understand what food plus body equals… you begin to see things differently.

So believe it or not, food and nutrition have become one of my biggest passions in life — maybe even the biggest. And honestly, that’s part of why I’ve been able to stay away from Second Life. It just doesn’t give me anything anymore. Sitting there for hours in silence gives me nothing. Nobody misses me. Nobody talks to me. Nobody wonders where I am. And when you realize that, it becomes easier to just turn it off.

Even the person I’ve been partnered with for five or six years — even that connection feels different now. The last time I saw him was before Christmas, and things happened in the bedroom… but he didn’t acknowledge my wheelchair, and he didn’t acknowledge that I wanted closeness. It felt rushed, disconnected, like he just wanted it over with. So I logged off, because I’m not going to waste my time feeling invisible.

If someone who has been with me for years — who has already seen me in a wheelchair before — can treat me like that, then something has changed. And when he comes back, there’s going to be a wake-up call.

So I guess I have a question for you — if you were the one living through everything I’ve just shared… would you stay in Second Life?

I don’t think so.

My life isn’t about Second Life anymore. And if you had asked me less than a year ago where I’d be today, I never would’ve imagined myself saying that. But that’s where life has taken me. And honestly, I can’t even say that I miss it. What is there to miss? Four people on a friends list?

The only person I miss is the one I wrote about in my previous blog post — the one who had to leave. That’s the only absence that still feels real to me, the only person I wish could come back. And since he removed me from his friends list, who even knows if he’s back now, just choosing not to tell me. I don’t know. But that’s the only connection that still lingers.

So if my blog becomes quieter, that’s why. I’m not active in Second Life anymore, and without that world… there isn’t much to write about.

I’ve even stopped taking pictures of myself. I used to have over three thousand photos on Flickr before I closed the account. Photography used to be a daily thing for me — and now I had to be reminded to renew Photoshop because I hadn’t opened it in over two months.

That’s how disconnected I am right now.

And when people do reach out, it often feels like they just want to unload their problems or tell me about heartbreaks I don’t have the energy to carry anymore.

So yeah… at the moment, Second Life feels almost non-existent.
Nothing really happens — except the occasional “hello, I’m your neighbor,” and honestly…

…my reaction is just, so? *Logs out*

/Tessa

And then the dark clouds came.

 

Hi everyone, I'm sharing this update because I'm unsure what else to do. If you follow my blog or any of my Second Life social media, you know I've fallen deeply in love with a man—and finally, he feels the same way. Things had been going well, although we hadn't seen each other for a while since he was sick. A couple of days ago, he messaged me to say he would be leaving Second Life until further notice due to a serious real-life emergency. I told him I understood and that I loved him, assuring him I'd wait for him. He didn't respond, and I accepted it, knowing the situation was serious.

However, what caught me off guard was discovering the next day, when I logged into Second Life, that he had removed me from his friends list. I interpreted his message about leaving Second Life as meaning he wouldn't be online for a while, so seeing myself removed from his friends list made me uneasy. I started wondering why he would do that, and the only logical explanation was that he didn't want me to know if he returned. When I checked his calling card, his profile was still active; if he were planning to close his account, it wouldn't be.

I don't know how to feel right now, knowing I'm no longer on his friends list, and I don't see how he would contact me if or when he returned to Second Life. I am really in love with him and miss him deeply, but in a major real-life event like this, everything in your life comes to a halt. I understand that, but I'm very, very sad about it—I would even say borderline depressed because his leaving means I'll be alone in Second Life again. My friends list is now even shorter—about eight people, and honestly, I could probably remove two of them.

He had told me he wanted to meet my friends because he planned to stick around for a long time, but the truth is, I don't really have any friends in Second Life. Heck, I don't even have friends in real life that I consider close. So yeah, I'm very sad and think about him a lot. He still has a Discord, but he would not be writing to me as much, and I don't want to intrude or get in his way.

The sad part is that on the same day he sent me that message, I discovered a new pregnancy add-on for Second Life. This new add-on looks like a real pregnant belly and doesn't have any strange shapes. It even simulates the baby kicking, and you can see it. I had spent the day fixing all of that and was excited to show him what I would look like pregnant and, hopefully, decide together that we would give it a try. Now that I'm alone, I don't really want to be in Second Life anymore. I'd rather be outside creating my recipes, baking, and forgetting about Second Life altogether because it feels pointless now. I have no friends except one—nobody talks to me when I go outside or explore in Second Life. Nobody messages me to chat or say hi.

So yeah, this is where I stand right now. I don't know what to do. I'm debating whether to put on the pregnancy belly to feel a little happiness about something in Second Life, but I'm not sure yet. I feel very, very sad. So, guys, that's the update. Thanks for reading. Bye.

˚ ☁️⋅♡Flying on Pink Clouds ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡

I have always told myself, in one way or another, that I shouldn't settle for anything less than what I'm looking for in Second Life and in people in general. Yet somehow, I have always accepted less, probably because I was so fragmented back then and wanted to please others. It’s cringeworthy to think about it.

 

This year has been very different for me. Instead of chasing after people to talk to me or like me, I have embraced the idea that I will wait for the right people who genuinely want to be with me and spend time around me.

 

It has been incredibly lonely, to say the least, but wow, did the universe listen to me! One day, while in Second Life, I decided to try out a dating app called Thundr. I had been on it sporadically before, but hadn’t found anyone who genuinely piqued my interest or with whom I clicked. A few days went by, and I found myself mostly clicking "next" for profiles that either looked stuck in 2012 or had unrealistic expectations.

 

Then, one evening, I received a message from a man. Before I opened his message, I thought, "Oh, here we go again, someone who just wants to get into my pants and be done with it." However, that was not the case at all; we actually had an enjoyable, flirty conversation. I will call him Kaz for the sake of this post. He talked to me like I mattered, just like he would any other girl.

 

What struck me the most was that he didn't seem bothered at all by the fact that I'm in a wheelchair in Second Life. He saw the wheelchair as just a tool I use to get around, which is how I want people to view it in both Second Life and real life.

 

After some flirtatious conversation, he came over to my house. We talked a little more and even shared a cup of tea. I could feel a spark between us while we were drinking, but I didn’t want to say it out loud for fear of misreading the signals.

 

I was so nervous because, honestly, I hadn’t been with anyone for a long time, and I was unsure about how he would handle me being in a wheelchair, especially if it came to moving to the bedroom.

 

He asked to use the bathroom, and I showed him the way. At this point, I had about a million butterflies in my stomach because I started to realize that this guy genuinely wanted me, and not in a superficial way.

 

When he came out of the bathroom, we continued talking and flirting. Finally, I decided to take a leap of faith; I pulled him closer by his pants, and he didn’t hesitate at all. He looked down at me and, in a soft, yet masculine voice, said, “Hi.”

 

Now, keep in mind that I had never heard his voice before, but as a highly intuitive empath, I could almost sense it. I was blushing so hard that I could barely type, so I just looked up at him and whispered, “Hi” back. Then, he did something that completely surprised me—he made the first move!

 

He placed his hand on my cheek and leaned in closer, and the next thing I knew, we were kissing—full-on, but slow and romantic. Breaking the kiss slightly, he whispered that I have soft lips, and he couldn’t believe that men ignore me. We both smiled during the kiss, and I told him that the fact that people have forgotten me since I switched to a wheelchair is, in a way, a win-win for us.

 

As we continued, clothing began to come off in the hallway, and we moved toward the bedroom. At that moment, I had no idea what to expect; I was going by how others had treated me in similar situations. But I was utterly floored by what he did next, which aligned with what I’ve been saying about staying true to how I move and navigate myself in Second Life.

 

He asked how he could help me get into bed. I communicated this through text, and before I knew it, he picked me up effortlessly, as if he’d done it a thousand times before, and laid me down on the bed. Little moments like that make me feel seen; you can’t beat anything like that when someone truly understands you, even in a virtual space like Second Life. It doesn’t take a lengthy explanation about my disability; it just takes understanding and respect.

I can't even begin to tell you how electrifying and out of this world our sex is/was!

 

 

As most of you know, I have been clinically diagnosed as a nymphomaniac since the age of 20. So I have a sex drive that most people can't even keep up with. This man can! He had me orgasming every 30 minutes. I have never been so close to orgasm blackout in years.

We could barely get loose from each other when it was time for him to go and do something in real life, and when he left, I instantly started missing him, which is something I have never felt for anyone in years in Second Life.

He even started a Discord so we could talk more often. I think the hardest thing about second life is the time zones, but if you really put in the effort, you can make it work. And that's what he did, and that's what I'm doing because I'm so freaking in love with this man, like you don't even understand, this is on a whole other level.

He works a lot, so the time he gets into Second Life is a little limited, I think.

He came home to second life yesterday after we started talking on Discord, and actually, he was the one who said hi to me first. He said hi, baby, which made me smile from ear to ear.

It took him just seconds to climb onto our bed, and for the next 3-4 hours, we went wild together—wild in every sense of the word. During that time, I actually told him I loved him. Most people who take the time to know me understand that I don’t say things I don’t genuinely feel.

 

After those intense hours, we cuddled for a little while and talked. I asked him if he thought it was wrong for me to tell him I loved him. He confidently said no, absolutely not. I replied, “Good, because I do.” Then he said, “I love you too.” He expressed it without hesitation—no “but,” no “if,” and no “it's too early” remarks. It was nothing like that. He said, “I love you too,” and I lay there trying to absorb it all, because I’m so used to being consistently rejected, and this time was different.

 

Before he left for his real-life work, he told me, “I can't wait to see you. Spend more time together, when I have time, I love you.”

 

I can’t even begin to explain how this feels for me. It’s incredible, he actually wants me. He desires me as a woman, appreciates me for who I am, and he stands behind his words—that’s the most important thing.

 

2025 is coming to an end

 

It’s been a heck of a year. I don’t even know if I could sum it up properly, but I know one thing for sure — I’ve grown a lot. I’m not the same person I used to be. And that’s not a bad thing.

Second Life isn’t a big priority for me anymore. I deleted almost my entire friends list. I have about seven people left. We’ll see how long that lasts.

Over time, I’ve started to understand what I actually need in life. And one thing I don’t need is fake people in Second Life. People who throw around words and promises and then don’t stand behind any of it. This year has been incredibly lonely for me in Second Life. Really lonely. It feels dead. Nothing is happening. No one is talking. So I stopped forcing myself to care.

The loneliness itself doesn’t bother me that much. I’d rather be alone than surrounded by people who aren’t really there anyway. In a way, this needed to happen. I needed to take a stand for myself. And I think that started when I finally left my abusive Second Life partner. After that relationship completely tore me down, I slowly started finding myself again.

I’ve also noticed a shift in Second Life overall. People don’t talk the way they used to. Even when I go to my favorite club, everyone is quiet. They just stand there. And if someone does start talking in local chat, it’s almost like they’re doing something wrong — like they should stay quiet. It doesn’t feel social anymore. It feels uncomfortable.

But the silence itself isn’t the main issue for me. What hurts is feeling invisible. And that started the moment I transitioned from walking in Second Life to being in a wheelchair full-time. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. I think it says a lot about people, and about how quickly they stop seeing you when the first thing they notice makes them uncomfortable.

One of the clearest examples of this comes from someone I saw as a partner. I asked him to help me conceive in Second Life. He did. I became pregnant. And after that — nothing. Not a single word.

So I stopped the pregnancy. Why wouldn’t I? I’m used to being pregnant and doing it on my own, but when someone can’t even acknowledge you, when you’re completely invisible, I don’t see the point.

When I made that decision, I honestly didn’t feel much about it. I already knew he didn’t want to be involved as a father figure or anything like that. That was clear. What I did want was at least some form of acknowledgment from time to time. Just something. And he hasn’t given me that at all. In fact, he hasn’t spoken to me since I became pregnant.

I’ve had people tell me that I’ve changed a lot. But I don’t see it that way. I haven’t changed. The woman I am now has always been there. She was just dormant for a long time. I got tired of speaking my mind. Tired of saying what I felt and not being heard. So I stopped. I followed instead. Other people’s rules, other people’s expectations.

After starting this medication, that woman isn’t dormant anymore. I didn’t become someone new. I just stopped muting her. That’s why I seem different now.

As for leaving my abusive Second Life partner — I’m doing really fucking okay. Better than I ever thought I would. What’s strange is that I still miss him sometimes, even though he’s a complete asshole. I think that’s because he’s the father of my Second Life daughter, and that’s a bond I can’t fully erase.

As far as I know, he’s blocked me. And I don’t want to talk to him ever again. I really don’t. He can stay far away from my life. I also know he’s the kind of person who checks my social media from other accounts. And I know that something in his real life has changed — something that means he’s no longer “allowed” to talk to me. Let’s leave it at that.

Leaving 2025 behind, I have a strong feeling about 2026. Not in a material way. Not about things or achievements. But in a deeper sense. I think 2026 is going to show me what I’m actually meant to do.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

The Collision I Was Not Prepared For in Second Life

Even before I started using my wheelchair full-time in Second Life, there were moments that stuck with me. One in particular still sits with me. I was in the premium sandbox, just minding my own business and doing my building work, when a man walks straight up to me and says, “You need an update because you look like a man.”

And I just stared at him. I didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. I said, “Excuse me? I look the way I want to look, and so do you. And maybe if you take a look at yourself, it’s actually you who needs an update.”

And strangely enough, when I was still walking in Second Life, I could shake comments off like nobody’s business. They slid right off me. But now that I use my wheelchair full-time, the comments hit differently. They cut deeper. It makes me feel even more that the way I choose to move through Second Life is not socially accepted by other people. And that’s what I can’t wrap my head around.

Because I know the real-life world outside of Second Life. I’m used to the stares, I’m used to the comments, I’m used to the laughter behind my back. I’m used to that world. But I’m not used to that world bleeding into Second Life, where everything is supposed to be freeing — not a place where you get silently bullied because your way of moving isn’t socially accepted. It feels like the two worlds have merged into one, and people can’t look past it, even in a place that’s supposed to be limitless.

Even though people aren’t saying it to my face, the pressure is still there. It sits in the silence, in the way people avoid me, in the way conversations dry up. And sometimes it makes me feel this immense, uncomfortable pressure to stop using my wheelchair in Second Life — just so people will talk to me again. Just so I can feel desired again. Wanted again.

But here’s the truth: I’m strong enough not to bend to that pressure. I’m not going to erase a part of myself just to make other people more comfortable.

In fact, I already bent to that pressure once. I stopped using my wheelchair because I wanted to fit in, because I wanted people to talk to me, because I didn’t want to feel like the odd one out. But I’m not doing that again. This is my truth, and I’m not living for everyone else — I’m living for me and for the people who actually matter.

But that doesn’t take away from the reality of it. The silent pressure is real. It feels like being inside a pressure cooker, and every comment, every silence, every avoidance just turns the dial a little higher… more and more and more… until you expect the lid to blow off.

But I’m not going to let it pop. I refuse to let it. I’m choosing myself this time.

I started seeing the signs early — signs that I was about to be alone in a way I had never experienced before. It took only five hours after choosing to be in my wheelchair full-time. I have a long-time partner, kind of off and on, someone I have a connection with every now and then. Let’s call him the redhead.

When I showed him my wheelchair and explained why I decided to be in it, he said, “Oh, so that’s the experiment? To see if people will talk to you or not.”

And I told him, “No. This isn’t an experiment. This is how I want to be in Second Life.”

And after that, he didn’t talk to me again.

I approached him once because I had run out of lindens, and he was kind enough to lend me some — which I paid back later. Even then, he didn’t speak to me normally afterward. When he gave me the money, I joked, “How about I pay you back like we used to, if you still want me like that?” And he said, “Of course I want you like that still. You’re nice to me.”

But that was it. That was the last normal moment. Since the day I got into my wheelchair full-time, he has not spoken to me like before.

I knew this choice might come with challenges, but this… this is a whole different level of hard.

So why do people feel so entitled to say something in Second Life about how you live your life? About how you look? About how you move? Why do they think they have the right to comment at all?

And why do so many people place you in this silent pressure cooker — where they don’t say anything directly, but their silence, their distance, their sudden change in behavior pushes and pushes and pushes until you feel like you’re the one who’s going to break?

Why does a place that is supposed to be freeing turn into a mirror of the same judgments we fight in real life?