Unwelcome realization number 5,781: Your body isn’t really your own anymore. Like, at all.
“Probably being beaten and locked outside/in a closet for days at a time. Drinking hose water and begging for food from neighbors. The worst time being in the snow after being whipped by an extension cord (the heavy duty kind) and knocked unconscious having my head kicked into a fireplace.”
Because you couldn’t accept me, I was forced to learn to accept myself. Because you couldn’t be proud of the person I am, I was forced to learn to be proud of myself. Because you told me I was not good enough, I went and made myself good enough.
I hope that when little kids on the playground make fun of the dirt trapped inside those worn-out soles, you’ll be planting even more soil so that one day, you can be crowned with flowers from head to toe.
This made me tear up toward the end.
Nobody said there shouldn’t be bullying. The teachers didn’t care.
Everyone gets a love story like Cory and Topanga.
Frozen in place with white knuckles wrapped around her prize, she wondered, “How can it be a sin to steal him?
I don’t need to understand how she exists, or why. My sister is with me at all times, but her presence is somehow more pronounced when I need her the most.
Strange things make you shudder. The sound of a beer tab being opened. The sound of ice clunking into a cup. The smell of that one particular brand of alcohol, the one that’s always stocked in the freezer or hidden in your cabinets.