I grew up with parents who were always more worried about reputation than anything. They grew up in a way in which gave them fear of the outside world beyond the limitations of their understanding. They didn’t know much better than to do anything they needed to survive. They wanted a better life for me and my sister. They wanted, more than anything, to be capable to provide us with everything we needed in life. But they never realized, the money wasn’t what we needed.
I grew up not being able to talk to anyone about my emotions. I was taught to shove all my emotions, both good and bad, down a drain that was supposed to lead into a block hole that took everything away. I was told to never trust those around me. I was showed and taught that family were the last people you should trust in this world. But, still, a part of me refused to believe everything I was taught. Sometimes, I wish I listened whole-heartedly.
I grew up believing I was a broken toy instead of a gift to the world. I was told no boy would want a girl with scars. I was told I was never ‘pretty’ with the scars that provided me a healthier life. I was told I’d never be good enough, by the one person who is supposed to love you to most. Not only did that leave scars in my skin but scars upon my heart.
I grew up not knowing who I was. But even though I spent every day trying to hide myself from the world, I know my heart has always recognized my soul.
I grew up knowing I was what people called “broken” in ways even I didn’t know. But, you know what, that doesn’t make me any less deserving; it doesn’t make me unlovable; it doesn’t make me any less capable.
I know life will constantly have peaks and valleys. There will be the ups and downs that bring us to where we are supposed to be. I know I will face tornados and tsunamis of hurt. I know I will experience life’s dream as well as life’s nightmare. I know that will never change, no matter how much I wish it to disappear. That is just who I am. And I have to accept that.