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Riding on the excitement from Anime Expo this weekend, I kind of wanted to talk a little bit about the fandom experience. I’ve touched on the subject a little bit before in a general sense (see: Why I Cosplay), but I think it’s important to share the feeling of having what I call a “fandom family”.

If you’re not in the cosplay scene, and/or are otherwise unfamiliar with the term, a fandom is a group of people (aka nerds) who are all interested in the same thing. Game of Thrones fans, Star Trek fans, etc. are all fandoms. These can be huge fanbases like the aforementioned, or all the way down to the most obscure, niche thing you just happened to find on the internet and show your friend. If you’re part of a group that likes a thing, congratulations: you’ve joined a fandom.

I’m in a lot of different fandoms, and each of them have their own unique vibe from the people in it. It was a bit of a culture shock going to a comic book convention after having exclusively attended anime cons for a couple years; the energy in the hall was completely different. Some fandoms are loud and boisterous, others more laid back. Every fandom basically has its own dynamic and culture, and not all are created equal.

Fandom families are what I call it when you join a fandom and it just… Clicks. You really start to feel like not just a group of people that like a thing, but people who have bonded and developed friendships. Your fandom family are the people you miss after the con ends, the ones who develop nicknames and inside jokes, who burn cupcakes in your oven and who your cat probably loves more than she loves you.

My first fandom family was the Hetalia fandom. I’ve known some of my Hetalia friends for almost 10 years now; they only knew me as Hungary when we first met, but a lot of us have gotten to be super close personal friends. The other day, I saw a post I made on Facebook just after I met my cosplay husband eight years ago (love you honey <3 ). I had no idea back in 2011 that all the people I’d met then would end up becoming so incredibly important to me. In cosplay or out, these are people who have become a regular fixture in my life. Even when I started branching out and cosplaying other fandoms, I always found myself migrating back to the Hetalians’ domain at the end of the day; years later, going to a Hetalia gathering still feels like coming home.

As I said, not all fandoms are created equal. I’ve made friends and had good times with all the fandoms that I’ve been in, but most are not what I would consider a fandom family for me. That’s not to say I disliked any of them, on the contrary; I love each and every one of my fandoms, and have represented all of them with pride. It’s just that I didn’t feel whatever it was that kept drawing me home to Hetalia, and for the longest time I assumed it was the nostalgia for my first fandom. There was just something special that made it stand out, and I couldn’t even figure out what it was.

As I sat at another fandom’s gathering recently, I took a second to look around. There were perhaps a couple faces I recognized from here and there, but the only person I really knew was the friend I had come with. When I joined that particular fandom, I remember more of my Hetalia friends had been into it, but they had long since migrated to other things. I came to realize that while I liked the fandom and the media it was based on, it lacked the connection I had felt with my Hetalia friends. I had fun, but it wasn’t a fandom family.

Now, who wants to take a wild guess as to what my newest fandom family is? Drum roll, please……………….

If you guessed Castlevania, you are 100% correct. Gold stars all around ! I was honestly a bit intimidated stepping into the Castlevania fandom. Everywhere else I’d been, I had either my main circle with me or overlap from the Hetalians. I was the first of my friends to stumble across this franchise, and didn’t know what to expect from the fanbase. As I fell in love with Alucard and began work on his cosplay, I prayed that the fandom would be kind; I didn’t want to be called a “fake fan” for not having played the games (gatekeeping is bullshit by the way, let people enjoy things), and I was afraid of the fandom being super elitist or something.

Boy, was I worried for nothing. I’ve only been cosplaying Alucard for a year now, and already I can feel the unmistakable pull of another fandom family. These are my people, no doubt about it. From the minute I stepped out in Alucard’s costume, I’ve received nothing but love from all the new friends I’ve made here. Castlevania came to me during a really hard time (not going into the story again, as you’ve all probably heard it by now), and I was honestly stunned when I had people who had only just met me say “hey, I’m here if you need someone.” I’m fortunate to have a huge circle of support from family and friends around me, and it makes me so happy to see that circle ever growing.

And that’s what fandom family means to me; we’re not just a collection of geeks who like the same nerdy thing. A fandom family are the ones who stand apart from the crowd trying to force their way through the artist alley. They’re the ones who cry with you when the escalator eats your costume, the people almost as excited about hosting your first gathering as you are, and whose arms you run into yelling “MOMMYYYYY!!” the minute you see them.

If you’ve never had a fandom family, you are missing out. It’s really hard to describe accurately the love I have for these people. It’s a bond that goes deeper than simply “hey, we like x thing!” It’s knowing that even if you’re dressed like dorks and crammed like sardines into a convention hall, these people care. They’re with you through the highs and lows, and they make your life and your fandom experience richer. It may be a different fandom for everybody, but once you find it, you’ll know. And if you’ve found a fandom family, hang on to them; I know I will.

Also just a note: this isn’t a comprehensive list of everyone in my fandom family! For some reason I don’t have pictures of everyone.

The post On Fandom Families appeared first on Jennifer Lidikay.

2018 has been a long, hard year. I look back on it, and things that happened this January seem so far away, they may as well be five years ago. When I talk about the last couple months especially, it sounds more like the plot of a soap opera than real life. And now, as 2018 comes to a close, it feels like a major chapter in my story is ending. I’ve written about my family and my experiences with my mother (see When Fiction Mirrors Reality and Responsibilities of Being a Parent), but for the most part I’ve been quiet about recent events.

In November, not even a month after the last time we saw her in court, my mother died of a brain aneurysm. Now, before anyone judges me for not playing the part of the bereaved daughter, hear me out. You didn’t live in my house, and you haven’t had my experiences. I spent the last five years coming to terms with losing a mother. I didn’t feel loss or sorrow at the news; I’d long since shed those tears. What I did feel, on the other hand, was all the anger and hurt come back again. I cried because I knew that after everything, she never “saw the light” so to speak. She never apologized, never looked back. Without diving too deep into personal family matters, even right up to the end there were games, rumours, and nonsense.

I was out walking one day, letting my mind wander, and for the longest time I couldn’t think of the last thing I said to my mother. I don’t remember what I shouted at her as I left the house with her screaming at me, fumbling to put on my shoes on the sidewalk. I don’t remember what I said in the argument that ensued when I got back. I said nothing to her in the courthouse, instead channeling everything into the  court room door when I rushed past her as we were leaving (sorry courtroom employees, I do hope I didn’t mess anything up).

But then it hit me: the morning she left us, she took a lot of things. One piece in particular being a snowy landscape painting that hung in our living room. I was in middle school when I made it, with the help of my grandma. Grandma would start on a tree, or paint part of a cloud, and I’d finish the rest. I never really had the time to dedicate to practice, so I never got super into painting, but the couple pieces I’ve done mean a lot to me. But I digress. After I noticed the painting missing, my dad sent her a message asking about its whereabouts. When she replied, I’m not sure if she sent me a copy on purpose or by accident, but my phone buzzed and I saw “I took the Jenny painting because you got the artist”.

It was a long few minutes before I could say anything. I went to my dad, asking what to do, but he had no more answers than I did; it was all new territory for all of us. So after thinking about it, I picked up my phone and typed “It belongs to me, and I am not an object to be bargained for.” And that text is the last thing I ever said to her. I’m okay with that. I lived for 19 years with someone who didn’t see me as my own being, but merely a pawn or a weapon. A bargaining chip. I’m okay with my last words to her standing up for myself, asserting myself as a human being worthy of respect. I’ve got loads of other things I would have liked to say, given the chance, but in the grand scheme of things, none of that matters anymore. I’m fine with what I said. And yes, we eventually got the painting back; it’s since been returned to its home on our living room wall.

I don’t mean for this to be a sad post. I’m not here to throw a pity party and say “look at me and my terrible story”. No, I’m here because I’m hopeful. I can look back at where I’ve been, and I know that there are so many better things to come. This new year is so full of promise and new possibilities, and it’s already off to a great start. This year brings with it a sense of freedom, and is truly a new beginning for me. I’ve learned and grown so much in the past year, and now it’s time to close this chapter. I”m turning the page, grabbing a new pen, and now I get to write the rest of my story. Maybe with a few less plot twists this year, yes?

I think I want to watch the sun rise on New Year’s day. Celebrating at midnight is all well and good, but I think I really want to see this year open with the dawn. Because that’s what this new year feels like: it’s the dawn breaking after a long, dark night for me. I’m optimistic, and I’m ready to walk into this year with everyone I know and love by my side. And for everyone else who’s had a long, hard 2018, we can do this together. Even if an era of our lives is coming to a close, I know something better is coming. It’s going to be beautiful.

The post Old Goodbyes and New Beginnings appeared first on Jennifer Lidikay.

I don’t know any perfect parents. Everyone has flaws, everyone has problems, and there’s no instruction manual for raising a tiny human. There’s no flawless, surefire way to know you won’t screw up. Everyone makes mistakes, and anyone who says otherwise is a liar. I’m not taking about being a “perfect” parent today; I’m talking about the bare minimum that outright disqualifies you if you don’t meet it.

If your child has to defend themselves from you, you’re not a parent. Physically, mentally, or emotionally; if you make your child feel like they’re going into battle just by being in the same room, that isn’t being a parent. Your child should NEVER, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, feel this way. If they’re afraid for their safety, if you victimize them, you have no right to call yourself a parent. Your child shouldn’t feel belittled, worthless, or left wondering if you even love them. I know lots of moms and dads, every single one willing to stand by their kids, holding their hands as they walk this world. This world is tough, guys. There’s so much to be afraid of, but you shouldn’t be one of them. A parent’s job is to be on their child’s side, not against it. Parenthood is not a war; don’t make your child’s home a battlefield.

If you don’t support your child, you’re not a parent. Kids take work. They take time, they take money, and they take YOU. You can’t abandon them or throw them away. They don’t just exist when you’re around, and POOF the minute you change your mind. And that doesn’t even stop the minute they turn 18; if you’re a parent, that means being there for them for the rest of your life. It doesn’t matter if your child is 5, 25, or 55. Having a kid isn’t just having a cute little thing you can dress up to show the world, and put away when you’re done playing with them. If that’s what you want, get a Barbie doll. Then again, I’ve seen Toy Story; Barbie doesn’t deserve that either. If you want to call yourself a parent, it’s not about you; it’s about them. When they need food, when they need a cuddle, when they need help with their taxes, it’s your job to be there. And if you’re a real parent, you wouldn’t even consider otherwise.

No parent I know hurts their child. If you’re breaking your kid down every chance you get, no way in HELL are you a parent. Your child shouldn’t have such crippling self-esteem issues they’re terrified to be over 100 pounds. Your child has accomplishments, goals, and dreams. Sure, being a fairy princess in the kingdom of the unicorns isn’t a logical career choice, but as a parent, you should be supporting and encouraging your children to thrive. And let THEM take credit for what they do. There’s a point where their accomplishments are not yours to claim. If you get jealous or take credit for the things your child does, you’re not a parent. They’ll grow, they’ll learn, and you should feel proud of them.

A child is not your possession. A child is another human being; they have their own life, and it’s not yours to steal from them. Again, IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU. Your child is not beholden to being your dedicated minion for the rest of their lives. Neither are they a pawn in some twisted game to get what you want. They’re not a weapon to be used against your partner, and they are not your property. “I gave birth to you” isn’t something you can hold over your child’s head when you want something from them. They don’t automatically owe you their lives. Your child owes you NOTHING. You don’t get to wave their very existence around as if it magically makes you superior to them. Let’s review the first sentence of this post: just because you had sex one night doesn’t give you authority over another human being’s consciousness.

If you want to manipulate and deceive your kid, you’re not a parent. Your child shouldn’t have to bend over backwards or walk on eggshells to try and keep you happy. They shouldn’t have to look back and wonder how many of your words were lies. That doesn’t even make you a shitty parent. You’re a straight up abuser. If you violate your kid’s privacy, their trust, or their bodies, you are the absolute worst kind of person. We’re taught not to tolerate these behaviors in friends, partners and lovers, but somehow “parents” get a free pass. “My house, my rules”. You don’t have the right to rifle through your kid’s things, read their diaries, or steal from them. It’s their house too. As human beings, everyone deserves to have a corner of the world to call theirs. Your child is no different. Their room, their bags, their locker; keyword THEIRS, not yours.

Here’s where it gets personal: Everything I’ve talked about here is my life. My mother was an alcoholic, and she mentally and emotionally abused my entire family for years. In 2013, she ended up choosing her addiction over her family. I honestly didn’t even realize the extent of her damage until she left. That’s the thing with abuse: if that’s all you’ve known, it’s normalized in your mind. It’s not until you’re free from it that you figure out no, waking up to slamming doors isn’t normal. It’s not okay for a parent to give backhanded compliments to their child, or to scoff at gifts that aren’t extravagant. You’re not supposed to have panic attacks at the sound of dishes breaking. All these are lessons I didn’t learn until the past few years, now that I’m grown. And I’m still learning to accept that. It’s hard, sometimes. It’s hard today. This is probably something I will struggle with my entire life. But I think what I have to say is important.

Parents, take care of your kids. Protect them. Love them. CHOOSE THEM. Only if you do that are you a real parent.

The post Responsibilities of Being a Parent appeared first on Jennifer Lidikay.