From an early age I believed that I wouldn’t make it into adulthood. I thought of myself like a bug, not only that my life was insignificant but that it was limited. And that before I could live it, I would be on the verge of losing it. Do you know how surprised I was when I found myself here still, and nearly every year whenever my birthday was closing in that, I was dumbfounded by the fact that I am still here, while remain bothered by the fact that I was growing but everything else remained the same.

I spent 2 years working in retail, doing my best in my job, carrying a fear I think most woman in toxic relationship do, that if I left that I wouldn’t find anything better. From an older man trying to get my TikTok, to being suspected of stealing, and never whatever benefits I had at the job. I would quit due to the edging burnout, find another job 2-4 month later and repeat the cycle. I resented people for expecting more out of me than I could give and I resented myself for not being worth more than customer service. It felt like I was destined to suffer this fate simply because I gave up on myself early on out of fear of wasting my time and energy on becoming more then inevitably failing.

I wasted over to 5,000 dollars on community college that I knew I wasn’t ready for. I had no clue what I wanted to do as a profession and my mom wanted me to go to college because her misperceived cognitions of college. I spent 3 years at this school until I finally accepted that this form of education wasn’t for me. Struggling with perfectionism, low-self esteem, and my social anxiety I would of likely end up at this school for another 3 years still working minimum wage job, both during and after getting my credits.

Not only was a disappointed my setbacks due to myself I was upset by the setbacks caused by family. Many empty promises were provided for me that you would have sworn I had a feast before me. From money to help with college, getting me a car, and me helping them to accomplish their goals by helping support them through money or maintaining the peace between everyone. My mothers irresponsibility with money, her mental health, and her need for control. My grandfather making me feel guilty or ashamed for not being feminine enough or for not coddling my mother due to her trauma. I inevitably learned that even though they are human, I can’t live like this for them anymore. And if they fall in a hole they dug then I’ll help as much as I can but I’m not jumping in the hole with you.

Friends that I gave my time too openly started living their lives, checking me when they needed to some to help the time fly, a ride somewhere, or to cash app them money. I can’t say that I didn’t have friends who genuinely cared about me, I was just someone that was hard to be friends with and was overly to myself.

Friends that would rant to me, come to me when lonely, or liked that I didn’t have boundaries. My smiling an understanding persona welcoming them. Friends who saw me as a friend while I saw them as acquaintances because I felt the relationship was shallow. People who I also selfishly hung around to hide that I wasn’t close to anyone, at least not in the way I wished to be.

And men. One who thought that I was body and one who really hoped that I would become his somebody. Both unwilling to recognize early on that I wasn’t who they wanted me to be, but thought if they pushed enough then maybe I would break.

My point is is that I have allowed my life to fly out of the window because I played life safely and I allowed it to get away from me, believing if I avoided being a burden, and avoided being authentic, and avoided living my life I could get though life peacefully with minor scratches. And thought that I could be happy living the rest of my life like this, especially when I didn’t see anything so great, wonderful, and interesting enough for me to want more for myself. And hoping if I lived for others the way I did I would feel no drop of regret when I am old.

Twenty-Two.

I am Twenty-Two

I am a Twenty-Two woman and finally sick of holding my breath while standing above water.

I can’t allow myself to live this way any longer than I already have. But what do I do? Where do I start? Am I behind or am I ahead? Will I make the wrong choice?Will I regret the choice that I make?

Man! At this point does it matter?!

I’m allowed to mess and not cage myself as a mess up. I must continue telling myself even though I struggle to believe each time I tell myself.

I’m understanding that just because I fail doesn’t mean I am forever title a failure. I’ve been living off of the beliefs of a child, who early childhood was repetitive disappointment from life and people. Beliefs that came from childish people who reprimanded me for acting like a child. Guilted for expressing my honest feelings and opinions. And felt more like property than a daughter and grand daughter. I don’t think I resent my family but I am burned by the iron of the lessons I learned from learned from them. And I resented myself because I wasn’t allowed to resent what they did, I hated myself because I wasn’t allowed to hate them for how they treated me, I wished to disappear because if I was gone then my problems wouldn’t have to be solved. My self loathing is misdirected build of from pain that I was indirectly and directly told I had ‘no right’ to experience.

I am still afraid to be authentically myself, but I am working on it. And I am still afraid to live life giving it my all, but that my personal project.

I’m going to live my life even though I am afraid I’m going to die trying.

Fear of Failure Feeling like a failure Hope for the future Looking for meaning Looking towards the future Wanting more for yourself