I love when people piss me off and anger me. It inspires me, it reminds me who I am, what I am capable of what I have created whether it’s something tangible like a painting or something only I can see like a story inside my head.
Today during a twitter discussion I was told “You’re not worth the effort”.
I can argue that for most of my 33 years on this earth people didn’t think I was worth the effort.
After I was molested as a child, my grades began to fall in grade four – no one noticed, they just assumed I was a bad kid.
At sixteen when I was raped for the first time, they just assumed I was on drugs, no one not one person asked if I was okay or if something was going on, and I’m not certain I would have known how to express how lost I was feeling.
After the initial report was taken, and the teachers and psychologists were informed I suppose they all just assumed I’d get over it, they locked me in Maples…for those of you don’t know it was a horrible place long since shut down due to abuse violations of the highest order.
They yelled at me, kicked me out of school, no one ever stopped to say “We’re forgetting she’s been raped, and probably isn’t dealing with it and thus her behavior is xyz.”
At sixteen who can express the feeling of loss and shame and fear that comes with being sexually abused not once by one victim, but twice at this point by two separate abusers.
Today at 33 the words “you aren’t worth the effort” hurt, and they sting but I also know they are said out o a place of wanting to cause hurt and pain and suffering.
They remind me I admit, that for so many years people didn’t care about me, to this day I still wonder sometimes if people actually give a shit, if maybe I am just totally unlovable.
I have this hope this silly Sleeping Beauty fantasy that one day my prince will show up and kiss me and the last years of my life will have been a bad horrible dream that happened to someone else.
I’ve never been in love but I have this feeling that one day I will be, and whoever that person is, will help me prove to myself that yes I am in fact worth the effort.
People like to say that I am brash, that I have no shame, no fear, but the truth is that I am afraid all of the time. I am terrified that people will get close only to hurt me.
I once had a friend tell me “Not all men hit”. I laughed, it was one of the saddest laughs of my life because in my world, yes all men do hit. They yell, they call names they scream they throw things and when they are done cutting me open verbally or emotionally they hit, and eventually they leave, or I find the strength to walk away.
Making sure no one gets close is the only sure way to make sure that I don’t get hurt. It’s also a sure way to end up alone.
I am trying, I am going to make a concentrated effort to let people, real people into my world, into my life, because if I don’t I will end up the lady in the house made out of a shoe filled with cats instead of children.
As a child the only thing I wanted in my life was stability, normalcy because I didn’t have a whole lot of that growing up. I realize now more than ever that the Universe gave me exactly what I needed so that when I find that normal stability stuff I’ll not only appriciate it, I’ll understand how to love it and hug it to me, how to cherish it and pass it along to my future children.
Yeah maybe I’m not worth the effort to you, but to me? I’m worth all the effort in the world, and in the end I am now beginning to realize that’s all that matters, now isn’t it?