You made her tough by telling her she can’t.
You made her tough by telling her she’s not capable; telling her she can’t wear this or she can’t do that. Because from all those you can’ts aroused her curiosity that maybe she could. You made her tough by boxing her into how you wanted her to be, because from there came her own metamorphosis as she started to see who she really was and what she really wanted – and how capable she is to make all those things happen. She turned out to be so beautiful when she decided to get out of that box; when she stopped listening to all the negativity sowed to her core, and started living her life on her terms.
You made her tough with all your toxicity.
You made her tough by making her feel as if she’s walking on eggshells; as if she’s always under the microscope, where everyone’s waiting for her to make a mistake big enough to ridicule her. You made her tough by feeding her with all the manipulation and toxicity you could muster, because through all these things she finally told herself “enough.” She struggled to get out of that pit that seemed to be endless. She decided not to drown from all the selfish plans these toxic people had for her. She managed to fight, and although she still is struggling to totally break free, she cut the ties and that’s a good start.
You made her tough from all the names you called her.
You made her tough by making her believe she’s small, that she’s nothing, that she can’t be anything. You made her tough by calling her crazy when she tried to make a point, or a bitch when she decided to fight for what she believed in. You made her tough by calling her a whore when she tried to connect to other people. You made her tough by calling her ungrateful when she started prioritizing herself. You made her tough by attacking her several times when you started seeing signs that she may be a threat to your superiority. Because those names you’ve called her only led her to discover and even strengthen her principles. She chose to prove her points more, connect to other people even more often, and none of the names you used to call her affect her anymore.
You made her tough with all the rejections.
You made her question her guts. You made her think something was wrong with her – countless times, over and over – until she finally realized there was nothing wrong with her but that the problem was in the world itself – there’s something wrong with the people who can’t handle the fact that she can be something – that she can be somebody. You made her tough by rejecting her and for that, she has reached a point where she no longer gives a damn about what society thinks, dictates, or demands from her because finally, she accepts her.