As young children, we are told that no one holds power over us. We're told that we are being raised to be independent adults. We're also told to be quiet when we speak up.
We're told to only speak when spoken to and if we want to be respected, we must first give respect. Trust isn't given, but earned. We're told that we matter and then we're often treated like we don't.
Too often, young girls are raised to keep their mouths shut, their heads down and their eyes on the ground.
They're taught that if a boy hits you, it's because he likes you, but they're not reminded that this behavior shouldn't really bypass elementary school.
They're told that if someone touches you in a "no-no spot" you should tell someone immediately. However, they aren't prepared for what you do when a family member touches them and threatens their life if they so much as make a noise.
People are taught that rape and sexual assault are horrible and shouldn't go unpunished, but then we see victims being persecuted and perps walking free. Who would dare open up with the fear of being called a liar hanging over their heads?
In rape cases, it's the new "norm" for the victim to be the one who's really on trial. If your dress was too short, you were asking for it. If you were too scared to try to stop them, you must have let it happen and God forbid your body have the natural reaction of an orgasm, because if it did, you know you wanted it.
But what about those kids who couldn't fight back and were completely clothed?
We're conditioned to believe that someone couldn't possibly have been taken advantage of if their clothing was revealing. That if someone was ever promiscuous or was sexually active, they probably just regret the sex and are looking for attention.
We're told that we look for love in all the wrong places and things, but most of us don't know how to look for it because it's something we've never been shown.
We find "love" in holes in walls, bloody knuckles and bruised cheeks. We become trapped in the lies of, "I'm fine" and "It was your fault." We find solace in thin, white lines on a coffee table and needles in our arms at 3 a.m., secretly hoping this will be the time we take it too far, fall asleep and don't wake up again.
We tell ourselves that it'll be okay. If we just get through today, everything will be fine. We look in the mirror and put makeup on our freshly bruised eye. Lie to our family and friends about what happens when they leave.
We shut down our feelings with alcohol and drugs to numb the constant pain we feel inside and out. We miss job interviews in fear of failing drug tests and we drift apart from loved ones because we know they won't approve of the life we're living.
We all have our vices, but no matter what they are, most of us are slowly killing ourselves. There are those of us who harm ourselves just to feel something other than the constant depression.
We think that the sting of a cold silver blade will cover up the self hatred and insecurity we feel everyday we wake up and wish we weren't alive.
We realize we're not helping, but harming our already dying bodies and we continue to do it because most of us can't find a reason to give a damn.
We're seeing our friends die by murder and suicide, we preach on social media about how the world needs to change and five minutes later, we're back to not doing a damn thing to change anything.
We're raised for an "amazing adult life", but they don't tell us that most of us are going to be so miserable, we'll resent our own existence. Hell, in this day and age, unless you're wealthy and famous, you're lucky if you do well enough to just barely get by.
Me and my personal experiences, it seems that most of us are living our lives just to try and die.
