a letter to my mom 7.17.24

Mom --

I love you but I hate the way you act. Why did you treat me so well when I was little, just to throw me aside as soon as I started living on my own? Without you. You know, for the longest time I was convinced I couldn't do anything without you. Why? As a kid, I leaned on you for support, but it seems as though you leaned on me more. 

Thanks to you I have trouble setting boundaries. (If I even have any..) Thanks to you, I feel like other people's emotions are my responsibility. Thanks to you I don't know how a woman should be treated. Thanks to you I have trouble asking for help. Thanks to you, I don't know what love is.

MOTHERS ARE SUPPOSED TO EMBODY UNCONDITIONAL LOVE, BUT TELL ME WHY MY ENTIRE LIFE I'VE FELT LIKE EVERYTHING I DO IS WRONG AND THAT I'M NEVER ENOUGH FOR YOU?!?!?!?!?

I keep typing out the words about me not wanting to discredit how good you were to me when I was little, but WHERE ARE YOU NOW??? NOW THAT I NEED YOU????? I need to get this out. You have no idea and probably never will have any idea how much you hurt me. How much you've ruined me. How much I hate what you've become and what I've become.

YOU NEVER LISTEN!!!!!!! EVER!!!!

My entire life I've never felt heard and I still don't. I continue to be attacked for things I haven't done, and gaslight and so much more. We used to be best friends, but no more. 

I see now what you've become. A monster. You only care about what you can get from the situation and your own self-gain. and if you have nothing to gain, you will cut it off within due time. Regardless of what you say and how much you love me, I don't think you will ever understand the damage you've caused in my life.

I thought I knew who you were

I really did...

But I was wrong!!!!!

I'm tired of the selfishness, I'm tired of the constant guilt trips and me having to put YOU first!

I am. So. FUCKING. TIRED. OF IT ALL.

But could I ever express this to you? No..

You'd probably bring up about what you've done for me when I was little or you'd bring up things you're doing now to help me. Because you don't want to hear it. You never want to hear it. You never want to hear ANYTHING you're doing wrong. and for that.. 

Fuck you.

Sincerely,

Your Daughter xx

candies 3.22.20

Whenever you wandered into The Corner Candy Store, you noticed she'd always be there glancing around as if she were shopping like an adult in a supermarket. The small child marveled at the bunches of licorice, gumdrops, chocolates, and taffies through the glass case at the candy shop.

Her brown eyes filled with a desire and her small, chubby hands wiggling around in her pockets. She was quite fanatical about everything sugar had to offer, whether it be in forms of soda pops, lollipops, or butterscotch. You'd notice her fumble with quarters and nickels as she struggled to pay for even the smallest amount of which she wanted.

In the end, you'd always notice the smile on her face dissipate as she was forced to give up her sweets and take a sample instead. This would happen for weeks on end until a stranger approached the register and bought the girl her dreams. The girl felt forever in his debt, although she was told it was no trouble. Her smile was unfathomably big.

''Thank you, Mister, my momma will be so proud.''

But this euphoria wouldn't last forever.

The next week, the girl would show up again, her pockets were now empty except for a few pennies. Maybe she was a brat, and she ate her candy too fast. However, her build was a bit slim, and if anything, she looked as though she could use a decent meal herself. Her eyes now appeared puffy and red, as if she had recently been crying.

Out of all things, a child weeping in a candy store? How odd.

You picked up a bag of gumdrops and handed them to her. Her magnificent smile returned once again as she gently grabbed the bag from your hand. However, it would only be a few seconds until her smile would retreat. It was that moment in which you heard her stomach growl.

At the sound of her own stomach, the child pushed the bag of candy into your hands. She wandered away from you aimlessly around the store and sat down at a wooden table near the back and messed with the fake daisies which lay at the center for decoration. Your heart broke as you paid for the gumdrops and meandered over to her.

''These are for you. No one else, okay? I want you to have these.''
You placed the bag in front of her on the table and gave her a reassuring smile.

''Won't Momma get mad?''
She opened the plastic and took out a green gumdrop, squishing it in between her little fingers.

Get mad about what? Something was going on, but it wasn't your business.

''You deserve them just as much as Momma, I promise.''

Her face brightened as she bit down on that green gumdrop. Her attitude was cautious yet grateful. And after that day, I never saw her in that candy shop ever again

i'm sorry 3.8.20

Two little words.

To the average person, these words mean absolutely nothing other than someone admitting the understanding of their wrongs. And if this is what you believe, I feel complete and utter joy for your soul. That's really all there is to believe about these words and nothing more.

Over the past few years, I've been--abused, to say the least. Yes, all three forms. My life is full of fucked up surprises, I'm aware. I'm not going to sit here and tally up a list for you of what I did and didn't deserve, because although I'm sure it would benefit everyone (oh boy, sarcasm amirite?) I'd rather not get into it. I'll only disclose what I think is appropriate and what I feel suits for the time being. Case closed; I hope you understand.

Back to the words ''I'm sorry''.

I was about 14. My life at the time was nothing from the norm of many teenagers. An alcoholic dad who was full of toxicity, a sibling filled with the intent of hurting you every chance they get, a struggling mother trying to keep everything together as she left her own needs to make sure everyone was happy, and of course, me. Apologies were constant through this household of lovelies, as was yelling.

The outside of my body (other than my cutting scars) was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a girl keeping a low profile and trying to make new friends after her best friend let her. You wouldn't be able to tell anything was going on with her just by looking at her. Well--maybe. Most things during that time I've blocked out of my memory and would prefer to never remember.

At the time I had an over-protective boyfriend. To spare him from the shame of having his name on my blog, I'll use the name Cray. Cray was--not really a good guy. During the few months we were dating, Cray was overly protective of me. He would get upset if I didn't text him back within 5 minutes, he wanted my passwords to all of my social media accounts, and whenever I went out he would always want to know: where I was going, who I was going with, if I could text him, when I'd be back, etcetera.

Also, he never really seemed to want to talk about issues I was having with the relationship. It always seemed to anger him whenever I brought up the fact I was unhappy. Cray would end up verbally abusing me to the point where I began to cry, at which point he'd storm off afterward. He'd never talk to me until after I apologized for whatever it was I had to take the blame for at that time. Hence, my brain learned to say sorry over and over again, because that's what made things alright again.

To this day, I have an ample supply of self-doubt and always feel like I've done something wrong at times when I've done absolutely nothing at all. I find myself apologizing over and over again at random times, or if I get the slightest bit sad because I feel as though I'm putting others out and hopefully after I say sorry that everything will return to normal. Ah, a girl can dream.

Of course, nothing ever returns to normal and I continue to feel shame for things I never end up doing in the first place. It's been years, and Cray may be gone, but the apologies aren't. I can only hope that things will change in the future, God knows I've been trying.



I'm sorry......
I never meant to be so negative.