What makes me the angriest about being scapegoated? You mean, besides the lifelong abuse? Being told how I’m not good enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough? That none of my accomplishments matter? That my house isn’t good enough? That my husband and my kids are not good enough? That I don’t matter? That I’m not lovable? That I will never be worthy of love? That there’s something inherently wrong with me to make it impossible for anyone to love me?
No, none of that makes me the angriest. It’s that, after ALL of that, that I’d still go running back to my family of origin if they showed me just one tiny morsel of interest. That they showed me that they cared about me just one tiny bit.
And what makes me the saddest is absolutely incredibly unnecessary this all is. That I just wish we could get together and support each other and enjoy each other’s company and show each other love. And how that will never ever happen.
No comments:
Post a Comment