How dare you unravel and undress me, wanting to see deeper depths of me and then tell me that I'm not what you hoped for; when you wanted more from me. More from me, than what I was ever willing to give up to you.
How dare you tell me I am worth my weight in gold, only later to tell me to lose weight.
Gold decreases its worth, the less it weighs. How dare you tell me to lower my worth.
How dare you only see my worth through my weight, and then hope I will lower my worth; so that I become something you can afford to lose. How selfish it is to say that I am only worthy as much as I break apart, and destroy parts of myself for people that refuse to be whole.
You strip me clean of everything I have ever armored myself with, and wonder why I am so bare and empty. You disliked my choice of colors, and told me I speak too boldly and I wear too much bright clothing, I think too much. I was too loud for you before I had even said anything at all. I was too colorful for you, before I had finished blooming.
How dare you only merely skim through the parts of me that peak your interest and skip the parts of me that are of no use to you, only to close the book; before I was finished reading it to you.
You tried to change who I was, when I was learning to heal the parts that hurt the most.
How dare you try to tell me that I was not meant for greater things. How can you measure, and size up about me; as if I was an inanimate object at your disposal?
How dare you try to make me settle for something that doesn't ignite something inside of me.
You didn't give me the strength I needed, and you were not kind, you were not patient. I needed to stop looking for things in other people to realize that the things that I searched, were instilled from within.
I am whole, all on my own. Even the parts of me, I have broke off for other people who refuse to be whole.
I will re-grow these parts of myself. Because I have been broken, I know what it is to appreciate being whole. I will learn to love those parts of myself.
