My whole life I knew I wanted to break the expectations my parents had for me. I was always the well behaved one, the kind one, the one with a smile on my face.
Fuck smiling.
My heart was broken more times than I can count but it fixed so many I couldn't remember and it fixes itself endlessly. I build bridges and take care of people, that's what I do.
Not to say that no one ever took care of me, that would be a lie, but most just took advantage of my kindness.
I was hot but not pretty, I was smart but didn't have amazing grades, I was funny but sometimes weird, I liked trends but also books, I liked boys but also to put them in their places.
I had big dreams and the purpose to heal, I had it all figured it out. I was happy!
Until I found out that giving all of me, all I had and all I did not was
simply
not
enough.
(And some people don't want me to heal them but that's another story.)
Not enough for the one I loved, not enough to be the best student, not enough to be popular, not enough to be geek. I wasn't enough to date guys but I was also not enough to be just friends.
The day they told me my kindness was a weakness was the day that I broke inside.
How can someone be too kind?
They made me believe it wasn't ok to be kind and caring and to smile and heal and help and to be there before I was needed.
They made sure I was like them because they didn't know how to be me.
They broke my kindness.
I showed them what being kind really meant.
I killed them with kindness.
The moment he said I was just 'too much' wasn't when my heart broke. How could someone be too much but still not enough. My heart was shattered when I left. When he said I was enough and I didn't believe him. When I decided to leave knowing he would be hurt.
He broke my heart.
I made sure he knew what it was like to have a broken heart.
I made sure his heart couldn't be healed ever again. Not really. But mine did.
I discovered regret and guilt.
The year I decided to apply for my dream college degree was the year that I found out I wasn't good enough to be there. The year I looked at the person next to me and asked myself what was I doing with my life. I sabotaged it and missed the rest of the auditions, just so I could be the one deciding to quit instead of facing the rejection a few weeks after.
That year broke my dreams.
I then understood what dreaming was like.
I discovered how lost someone can be.
I understood that my purpose in life had to change. And so it did.
The night my father yelled and hit my sister out of anger was the night my soul died. Not because of what he did but because everyday I wish it was me and not her. I cried myself to sleep for a long time. I held back my tears so she could feel safe for a longer time. My soul can't take the idea of not being able to protect her.
That night broke my soul.
I believe it broke his soul too. But I haven't found forgiveness to give him.
I now know what is like to feel powerless. I know the fear in my sisters eyes.
But then I healed. I like to believe I am not broken but all of this moments left scars I can't seem to make disappear.
But then I healed. And smiled. And learned how to carry the weight on my back. And I am happy.
I am happy and I still believe in dreams and kindness.
What a fool I must be.
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10OUT2021
