Open Topic

I Was Just A Chapter.

When someone leaves you, the mere act of going through a devastating breakup is usually the biggest pain about it all.

Your heart is crushed and all of a sudden you have to learn to live without the man who was the center of your world and whom you miss like hell.

You have to accept that this guy stopped loving you and that you simply must go on with your life without him in it.

You’re forced to come to terms with the fact that you have to move on without him who was the most important person to you.

And yes, going through something like this is always difficult, but when it comes to us individually, it’s actually the easiest part.

When it comes to the two of us, the situation is quite different.

Yes, I was shattered that you walked out on me, that you abandoned me when I needed you, and that you left me behind without ever looking back.

However, what hurts me even more is the fact that you were only temporary in my life.

I’m crushed that, at the end of the day, you didn’t turn out to be my forever person, despite all of my hopes and desires.

Yes, now I can finally say it out loud without feeling like someone is stabbing me directly in the heart: you and I were just chapters in each other’s lives.

And the worst part is that we were supposed to be much more.

When I met you, I didn’t think that you would storm right through my life the way you did.

From the first moment, I loved you so much that I never imagined a day  where our story would be nothing more than a part of ancient history.

I saw everything in you: a boyfriend, a closest friend, and a future husband.

I saw you as my life partner, the man I could grow old next to, my soulmate, and my match made in heaven.

I was certain that you and I were meant to be together – that we both spent our entire lives preparing ourselves for our encounter.

I thought that the divine forces wanted us to end up together and that nothing or nobody could ever tear us apart.

How foolish of me, right?

I guess I was nothing but a naive, romantic girl who expected more than she could possibly get.

Because you never saw me as your lifetime plus one, did you?

You never considered me to be anything more than someone to shorten your days, give you a bit of a good time, and keep you warm at night.

For you, I was never more than a temporary girl who served you well until someone better came along.

I was convenient and suitable only at a given moment, but sadly, it took me too long to realize that.

For you, I was just a chapter, while for me, you are an entire book.

Despite the fact that we’re over, you still remain the central character of my story, while you never gave me anything besides a supporting role in yours.

Yes, admitting this to myself sucks.

It’s not only an attack to my heart – it’s a real ego destroyer.

However, after a lot of thought, now I know that this situation doesn’t decrease my value as a woman.

It doesn’t mean I’m not enough, nor does it make me any less worthy.

So, instead of lamenting the past, I’ll do my best to start writing a new life chapter.

I’ll accept that this one is finished, leave you on the shelf of my heart, and treat you like a distant memory.

I will wait for a man who won’t have doubts about whether I’m the one.

A man who’ll be sure about me and see me as much more than someone fleeting.

I will wait for a man who’ll make me the star of his movie.

For one who’ll never be in need of other actresses.

A man who wants to finish his book with me by his side.

Open Topic

If You Give A Girl A Brother.

If you give a girl a brother, she will have a friend for life.

She will have someone to create memories with and treasure them throughout her whole life. She will share her hopes and dreams with him and trust him with her secrets.

They will bicker. They will fight and a few hours later act like nothing ever happened, and everything is alright. There is nothing stronger than the bond between siblings. That’s why they have a forgiving heart.

If you give a girl a brother, she will always have someone to make her smile.

Every holiday, family gathering, vacation, and road trip with her brother will make a good time even better.  

With a witty brother by her side, she’ll always have someone to cheer her up. Her happiness means the world to him. That’s why he’ll keep her safe and do his best to make her smile.

If you give a girl a brother, he will always have her back.

He will do his best to keep her from harm. He won’t allow anyone to mess with her feelings, and she will always know that her brother is someone she can rely on.

When guys come knocking on their door asking her out, he will look with disapproval because there’s no one worthy of his sister’s sweet and loving heart.

If you give a girl a brother, you are giving her a safe haven.

You are giving her someone to run to when the world is cruel and unfair. When her entire world comes crashing down, he will help her pick up the pieces.

He will be a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen and a rock she can depend on.

If you give a girl a brother, she will be loved unconditionally.

He will love without holding back. Even if he doesn’t say it in so many words, she will always know that she is one of the most important women in his life.

He will love her just the way she is. Even if he teases her and makes fun of her from time to time, she will know that’s just the way brothers express their love.

If you give a girl a brother, you are setting her up for an amazing life.

She will always have someone to keep her on her toes. He will have his unique ways of making her reach her full potential, no matter how unusual they might seem.

He will make fun of her and tease her until she works harder, reaches for more and proves him wrong. His reverse psychology never fails, and he will be beyond happy to see his sister thrive.

If you give a girl a brother, you will make her the luckiest girl alive.

My Brother Cameron.

Open Topic

To The Girl Who Was Abused.

To a girl who was emotionally, physically and sexually abused, love is something she has a hard time defining.

Her abuser changed her perception of reality. He used to say he loves her at one point, and soon after, that he would call her names and say the meanest things.

He used to hug her and kiss her then scream at her and break the plates as they would fight. Everything was always her fault.

He got so good at playing the victim that she really looked for the problem inside of herself. She thought that she needs to change. She thought she was the cause of her unhappiness.

You see emotional, physical and sexual abuse made her think that she wasn’t good enough.

It made her think that she isn’t worthy of love and that most of the things that happened to her were somehow her fault.

It took her a long time to realize that it was never about her. She rebuilt her life.

She worked on her insecurities and got her self-esteem back. She gradually learned to love herself again.

She found her inner peace. She renewed her life. She became happy all on her own, and it took her so long to get there that she is scared to lose it.

She is scared that somebody will hurt her again, take her back to the start and that all her efforts will have been in vain.

She keeps telling herself that not all men are her ex. That they are not all the same. But she can’t help being scared.

That’s why she needs someone she feels safe with.

She needs someone she can trust. That’s why she believes in taking things slowly and creating that trust with her partner.

Trust is no longer something she gives out freely. It needs to be earned.

She needs a man who will get that. A man who won’t mind reducing the pace and be everything she needs.

If she finds that man, she will lower her guard and not a minute sooner.

She needs someone who will make her stop fighting her feelings.

She is afraid to let herself go and really and truly feel. That’s why every time she sees that she is getting to close and too attached to somebody she backs down.

She pulls away, but she hopes that he will hold her tight. She hopes that he will reassure her and tell her that everything will be ok.

When she finds someone like that, maybe she will give love a chance but not a moment sooner. She wants to feel as safe as possible before taking the risk.

She still believes in love, and she still craves it, but she has higher standards now.

If there is a silver lining in everything that she has been through it is that she learned just how strong she is and that she needs to love and appreciate herself more.

She learned those lessons the hard way, but at least now she has no problem with letting go when she sees the red flags of toxic and abusive behavior she has endured.

She would never again tolerate something like that again. She raised the bar, and her standards are higher now. She is not being unrealistic. She just knows what love should never look like.

She knows that love shouldn’t feel like torture. She knows love shouldn’t make you feel bad about yourself. She knows that love shouldn’t lead you to emotional death.

She knows love should be kind and supportive. She knows that love adds to your happiness. She knows that love doesn’t hurt. She knows that love makes you fly.

Open Topic

An Open Letter To My Mom.

Dear Mom,

As I sit here writing, I am reminded of how long I have harbored all of the thoughts, feelings, and secrets I am about to reveal in this letter. I can feel the weight of the load I’ve been carrying begin to lighten with every word I type. For the past 20 years, I’ve held onto so much guilt, shame, embarrassment, pain, and anger. And as many times as I’ve attempted to write and complete this letter, truth is, when I could find the words I wanted to write, I was too high… too fucked up to even make a half-assed crack at it.

But NOT today… NOPE!! I am sober, clear-headed, and ready to talk about all of the “what happens behind closed doors, stays behind closed doors” secrets that you always insisted were tall tales and fabrications of a troubled child seeking attention.

Please let me start by saying that I FORGIVE YOU and love you… and that this letter is not to bash you or make you feel that the trouble I’ve gotten into or the questionable decisions I’ve made are in any way being blamed on you. I also want to say that I am sorry for the mean and hateful things I have said and done over the years, and although my drug use did the talking for me for a long time, that’s in no way an excuse for my actions.

We have had some great times, haven’t we? Laughed until we cried… Been there for each other through some pretty rough and trying times… Held each other through the heartaches and tears… experienced love, hate, life, and death. God knows we’ve had some knock-down drag-out fights, and said things we didn’t necessarily mean. Our relationship has been one hell of a roller coaster, to say the least. Looking back, I never could understand why, when I needed it the most, though, you failed to protect me…

Why, at 14 years old, was I called a liar and disregarded as a child just seeking attention, when my older sister warned you about what my brother-in-law had unsuccessfully tried to do to her, but successfully did to me? Why was I never told that what he was doing to me was sick, demented, and wrong? Truth is, at that age I had no idea that what he was doing wasn’t supposed to feel good, or that it would leave a lasting impression on not only the way I viewed men, love, and sex, but also the way I viewed safety, security, and – most importantly – the way I viewed myself for a good majority of my life.

And why, why, why wasn’t he the only one who ever had the chance to do something so horrible like that to me? Why were there others that got the opportunity to stare at me with devious thoughts and intentions, and then at some point or another carry out those same thoughts and actions, with no consequences? Why didn’t you protect the daughter you swore to love with all your heart? Was it me? Was it something I said? Something I did? Something I didn’t do?

And all the while, not only was my brother-in-law interested in your 14-year-old daughter, ”Every time he’d pick me up for work or other outings and activities, he’d be sure to make some random stop, in some random hidden away place, to get a piece of your young daughter’s innocence and free spirit.

During this time, I fell sick into major depressive disorder, allowed my 4.0 GPA in school to fall significantly to a ridiculous 1.5 GPA, stopped involving myself in my extra-curricular interests… For God’s sake, I cut my hair into “dyke-spikes,” wore all-black clothing, piled on the dark makeup – hoping and praying that I would be too ugly to mess with any longer – that I would no longer be the object of their disgusting games. I guess they never got the memo, because it continued.

How many times was all of this brought to your attention? How many times did I beg you to let me stay home? How many times did you ground me because I “acted out”? How often did you back-hand me and make my ears ring because I cried and yelled and threw fits because I had alot of anger inside of me? Why didn’t you protect your daughter?

I was a couple of weeks from celebrating my 15th birthday when I returned to your home from work, and you sat all three of your daughters down to tell us dad was having an affair. I was hurt, acted out in anger and distant because me and dad used to be close. I also fell into severe depression and stayed home from school for weeks. By that time, I believed that you had no right to try to tell me what to do or how to live my life. When my 16th birthday rolled around, you and dad got back together, then a few months later was pregnant with my brother. I was jealous and had anger inside of me because for one, I was no longer the baby of the family and two, I would’ve been pregnant too if I never got that abortion. My due date would’ve been December 5th, and today that day is hard for me when it comes around every year.

But you didn’t put up much of a fight with my rebellious “you can’t tell me shit” attitude, so I rolled with it, and took it to a whole new extreme. Stayed out as late as I wanted, with whoever was the “flavor of the week” or the most wild and crazy, cussed like a sailor, drank as much alcohol as I could get my hands on, tried marijuana, and even dabbled in cocaine for the first time. Whenever you’d protest, I’d storm out of the house with my middle finger in the air and a big “FUCK YOU!!” screamed as loud as I could.

I even met my boyfriend’s mom around that same time, and almost immediately moved him in, even though he was a 22-year-old cocaine and alcoholic, with an on-again-off-again job and no ambition or desire to do anything more than spend every waking hour tangled up in the sheets with your 15-year-old.

I sat in the bathroom of our “home” 4 months after the most outrageously partied out sweet 16, with a POSITIVE pregnancy test sprawled out on the countertop. I was numb to how I felt. I told the baby daddy I am pregnant and right away he told me to get an abortion, and so I did! After I got the abortion I realized the baby was someone else’s and now I have live with the regret everyday because I got that abortion.

Two years later, I got a job dancing in bar that my boyfriend took me to. Not long after that we broke up and I met someone else whom I married at age 22 and I quit dancing. Again I was pregnant, but I lost it. We got divorced two years later. Then I got back together with my ex and I went back to the bar to work and someone introduced me to crack. My life from there went downhill.

Fast forward nearly 4 years, we fell back into a somewhat mother-daughter routine, not too much unlike my rocky childhood.

Fast forward yet another 3 years and I was again back at home living with mommy dearest.

Less than a week later, I was in jail, facing almost 3 felonies, which were not only pressed by you, but were complete lies. Protection against myself, you had said. Huh??

The next 8 years are foggy and clouded, mostly because I was too high to pay attention or care. In the midst of it all, I lost myself – totally and completely. I would stand in front of the mirror and be so mortified at the person staring back at me, I’d cry and scream at the damn thing.

I spiraled out of control, almost died a time or two, and could’ve cared less. I lost everything I owned more than once, lost the only two things that meant anything to me in this world, and lost myself more and more every day. Spent moments in and out of jail, just to come out and get right back to where I was before, despite my best efforts.

Then one day I woke-up and realized that if ever I was going to move forward, I had to stop living in my tormented past. So I sat down and finally wrote this letter, which you may never even read. Because I have to forgive you and move on from the pain and anger. After all, you have continued to live your life, happily as far as I know, and now it’s my turn.

I love you Mom, but I will now love you from a distance that will protect and heal us both. I will always be my mother’s daughter, but I will no longer allow the ghosts of my past dictate how I live my present and future.

Always and Forever,
The daughter who protects herself!