We are birthed as paradox. Rejection as life. So it has been seared into me. As I write I judge myself so fiercely. Everyone reminds me of how hard other people have it, how strong other people are. Is this meant to help me? It doesn't . It shuts me down.
So much rejection, small wonder I reject myself. If one is told enough times that one is wrong, fundamentally as in, then one believes they are wrong. And so it is. And so I am.
I cannot forget grade 7 and the petition to have me removed from the basketball team (yes, I am still thinking,feeling talking about this, fuck off) the shock of it. I was no longer safe. I could trust no one. I think there were things before, entrenching me.
And people in my life, a year ago, told me how much trouble I cause them. Like sharks they circled and struck. Left me bleeding out, apparently unaware of the damage they inflicted. And now some want to help.
No thank you.
The benign cruelty is worse than the overt. I'm not the first to think this. Not the first hurt, for sure. Nor sadly will I be the last. Can I help myself back to who I was/am meant to be?
Is it whining to speak my truth? Apparently for some.
Since I can find no one to be present and listen, can I do it for myself? I guess that's what this blog is. L.M. Seems genuinely interested in helping me. So the gift I can give myself is to talk with L.M. More often.
Diez anos - I had just finished bathing, standing before the steamed-up mirror brushing my hair when it hit me: the fetus inside the belly of one of the sisters whose li...
4 months ago