🐝 Name the Bees: The International Swarm - Part 1
Anxiety goes global. And so do the bees.
🏡 First, let’s get something straight
If you’ve met my bees, Petal, Kevin, Crumb, Sploot, the whole unhinged crew, then you already know what kind of hive we’re running here in Britain.
We spiral politely.
We cry at 3am and apologize to the pillow.
We burn out with a smile, scrub the skirting boards in passive-aggressive silence, forget to eat for 12 hours, and then cry over toast.
This is normal.
This is routine.
This is the swarm.
🌍 What if your swarm grew up somewhere else?
Not just where you live now.
I mean where you grew up.
Because the culture and beliefs you’re raised in, your family, your language, your religion, your emotional do’s and don’ts, they don’t just shape your accent.
🐝 They shape your bees.
Your anxiety bees.
Your rage bees.
Your “I don’t know what I’m feeling but I need a snack and maybe to lie down on the floor” bees.
✈️ The cross-cultural spiral
If you’d grown up in Brazil, would Wheezy be a samba instructor?
Would Petal still be melting down in a cardigan, or would she be on a balcony in Rome, yelling and making a lasagna?
Would Kevin still obsess over every awkward conversation you’ve ever had, or would he just… let it go, Frenchly?
Because stress is universal.
But the way we manage, perform, suppress, spiritually bypass, or emotionally spiral through it?
That’s shaped by culture.
And religion.
And how you were taught to survive.
🧘♀️ How we cope depends on where we land
Maybe you were raised to journal.
Maybe you were raised to pray.
Maybe you were told to “pull yourself together” and offer it up to God.
Maybe you were taught to scream, confess, internalize, meditate, ghost everyone, or cry in public and then go make soup for a neighbor.
It’s not just “fight, flight, freeze.”
Some people bake.
Some people chant.
Some people disassociate with dignity.
Some people rage-clean the cutlery drawer while planning their own funeral and thinking about the Pope.
🐝 Welcome to the first international bee census
We’re not sending British bees abroad on emotional exchange trips.
We’re asking:
🐝 If you were raised somewhere else, with different expectations, family dynamics, snacks, religious norms, or emotional rules, would your swarm look the same?
Would you still overthink and shut down?
Would you talk about it?
Would you never talk about it?
Would you dance?
Would you bake rage bread?
Would you develop stomach issues and call it “fine”?
Because honestly?
I don’t think any of this will matter to science.
But it might matter to you.
It might make you laugh, cry, or text your cousin that she’s 100% TiaToaster from the Brazilian swarm.
✏️ So in this post...
We’re going to compare our very British bees:
🐝 anxious, repressed, snack-deprived, emotionally sarcastic
With the possible bees of other cultures,
And ask:
Do they buzz differently?
Do they spiral the same?
And if not… where do they split off?
Where does it start to change?
🌎 Emotional ecosystems are real
This isn’t about stereotypes.
This is about emotional ecosystems.
This is about global breakdowns with local flavor .
So get your passport.
Get your biscuits.
Let’s name the international swarm.
🇬🇧 The British Swarm
Your Default Hive
We’re not going to reintroduce everyone, they’ve already had three full episodes and a breakdown in the staff kitchen. But here’s your baseline buzz:
🐝 Kevin
Overthinking. Replays every awkward thing you’ve ever said since 2003. Will remember a cringey email you sent once and whisper it to you at bedtime.
🐝 Juicebox
ADHD chaos goblin. Starts twelve things, finishes none, disappears for three hours to deep-clean one drawer. Powered entirely by impulse and Pinterest frogs.
🐝 Petal
Burning out in a cardigan. Still asking if you’re okay.
🐝 Volca
Suppresses rage until it erupts into aggressive cleaning and a muttered “it’s fine” that means run.
🐝 Buzzkill
Wears a metaphorical high-vis vest. Cancels joy in the name of safety. Thinks fun is a health hazard.
🐝 Crumb
Forgets to eat, then cries over toast and an email from the bank. Smells faintly of despair and hobnobs.
🐝 Sploot
Lies down. That’s it. That’s the entire system response.
🐝 Wheezy
Laugh-sobs in the middle of a crisis. Brings inappropriate humor, emotional chaos, and usually a snack she forgot she was holding.
British bees run on guilt, emotional repression, inappropriate laughter, and the belief that a cup of tea can fix actual trauma.
British bees run on guilt, emotional repression, inappropriate laughter, and the belief that a cup of tea can fix actual trauma.
✈️ Now let’s leave the island and see what’s buzzing elsewhere.
🇺🇸 Snapshot: The American Hive on a Rest Day
📸 “Healing is scheduled. Rest is optional.”
She told everyone she was taking a day off.
Posted it on her stories. Set an intention. Even made a Canva graphic that said “do less, rest more.”
At 8:41am, she was deep-cleaning the bathroom grout while listening to a trauma podcast.
🐝 BroBuzz was already pacing.
“If you’re going to rest, at least make it useful. Wipe down the baseboards. Organize your soul.”
She nodded. Started alphabetizing her vitamins.
🐝 GlowBee floated through with ring light energy and soft jazz.
“Document the process. Rest days are content. Share your growth.”
She posted a reel of her matcha. It got 4 likes.
At 11:19am, she cried. Then opened a notes app and titled it “Lessons I’m Learning While Sad.”
🐝 TheraQueen pulled up a couch in her mind.
“You’re allowed to feel this. Just make sure it has a framework. And maybe a worksheet.”
At 1:46pm, she still hadn’t eaten. She’d done breath-work, yoga, foam rolling, and scheduled a therapy consult.
🐝 Crunchie arrived with a turmeric latte and a weighted blanket.
“You forgot to feed your body again. No judgment. But maybe chew something?”
At 3:02pm, she lay down and stared at the ceiling.
Not meditating. Not napping. Just… buffering.
🐝 Boomerang whispered from the edge of the bed,
“You’re trying. That still counts. Even when you loop.”
She blinked. Took a deep breath.
And finally, finally ate a biscuit. (A protein biscuit, but still.)
💂♀️ UK Comparison:
If this had happened in Britain?
🐝 Petal would’ve worked straight through it, then cried folding towels and apologized to the cat.
🐝 Buzzkill would’ve warned her that rest is dangerous and she’ll be behind forever.
🐝 Kevin would’ve stayed up all night wondering if matcha was a pretentious choice.
🐝 Crumb would’ve whispered “maybe toast?” around 4pm.
🐝 Dizzy would’ve started eight rest activities, gotten overwhelmed, and color-coded her email folders instead.
🐝 Wheezy would’ve cracked a joke halfway through crying, then accidentally inhaled a biscuit crumb and needed CPR.
🐝 Lo-Fi would’ve muted the chaos with soft beats and a look of quiet emotional judgement.
Same bees.
Different branding.
In the US, the burnout posts a carousel.
In Britain, it hides under a blanket and replies “lol all good x.”
🇯🇵 Snapshot: A Day in the Japanese Hive
📸 “The breakdown is quiet. The bow is automatic.”
She spilled coffee on the meeting notes.
Not much. A splash. But the paper curled slightly at the edges and she felt her stomach drop like a stone.
🐝 DutyBee arrived first, eyes sharp.
“You should’ve prepared more. You’ve embarrassed yourself. Fix it, fast.”
She blotted the page, stood up, bowed. No one commented.
Still, she apologized three times.
At her desk, she typed without looking up.
🐝 Honne-Hive adjusted her tone from the inside. “Be soft. Be useful. Be fine.”
Her face stayed calm. Her neck pulsed.
At lunch, she walked to the corner store and stared at the drink fridge for too long.
Couldn’t choose. Couldn’t think.
🐝 Chotto hovered nearby, blinking gently.
She picked iced tea and walked out. Forgot to pay. Walked back in. Bowed again.
She caught herself whispering, “I’m sorry,” to no one in particular — part habit, part ritual, part prayer for invisibility.
By mid-afternoon, she was dizzy. Her inbox full. Her shoulders aching.
She opened a drawer and reorganized the staples.
🐝 Shibui moved quietly, whispering, “Control something small. Make it beautiful. Pretend that’s enough.”
She nodded. It helped. Almost.
Back home, she washed her face three times. Changed into lounge-wear. Made tea she didn’t drink.
Stared at the floor.
🐝 Kumo-chan wrapped a thin emotional blanket around her.
“You’re not okay. But you’re very polite about it.”
💂♀️ UK Comparison:
In Britain?
🐝 Kevin would’ve replayed the coffee spill for the next 17 years.
🐝 Petal would’ve insisted she was fine while stress-washing the mugs.
🐝 Buzzkill would’ve panicked about disciplinary action and death in the same breath.
🐝 Lo-Fi would’ve turned the volume down on the spiral and handed her a biscuit.
🐝 Dizzy would’ve bought a whole new mug, then forgotten why.
Japanese bees bow.
British bees flap.
Both go home wondering if anyone noticed.
And either way, no one ate lunch.
🐝 That’s three countries down.
But the hive isn’t done buzzing yet.
Next up: lasagna meltdowns, flat-pack grief, and some final thoughts that might sting a little.
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When they’re hungry, it gets expensive, emotionally and financially. 💛
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