I look at myself now, and I see things differently. When I was a teenager, I was allowed to do things I should never have done. I made choices to avoid being alone. And my ability to determine who was safe and was not, I had no ability to sense. I saw a very small portion of reality. And what I saw were people who gave up on me because I was too much.

Being a teenager is hard. Hormones, boys and girls, relationships, and all the rest. There is an education to receive. And because I was too much, people just let me whiz by. Little acknowledgement and little compassion. I could have been enough then. And I have people permission to not view me as enough because I must have been unworthy.

I must have started my house on fire

I didn’t tell Darrian who her biological father was, so we had to.

I made choices, yes. And I’m not exempt from responsibility. However, if I was brought up to speed about life – as a good enough child, maybe I might have made better choices. Maybe I could have read between the lines. Maybe, at 48 fucking years old, I wouldn’t have to realize that I was always enough. People just didn’t care to invest their time and love into meeting me where I was. Because it was hard. Because life is hard. And because dealing with the heavy emotional toll that losing a mother at 14 years old and having a father that cannot manage me …. It was just easier to feel bad for my father and blame me when I couldn’t walk the walk.

I imagine, sometimes, what it’s like to sit with my family that didn’t come after me. Not being able to come to a meeting of the minds about who I could have been with their emotional backup. That person is not who I became.

I cannot give up on myself like they did. I cannot fall and just let go of all my promise and the promise of a better marriage. I’m not being raped every time I have sex with my husband. My body and mind know that now. When my husband and I are one, I’m no longer ashamed of how bodies react. I can open my eyes and know I’m safe. When I go to work, I’m trying not to see people as people I went to church with. The people who would pass me off for a less complicated experience. That they have never seen me in those terms. And I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not. They see promise. And I should to.

When I took on the role in management, it was harder than I anticipated. I hid from people out of shame of not being worthy. Of being too much. I was in my head constantly. And I had to back up. Admittedly, the co-worker that took over for me is more effective than I was. I don’t have to like him. I do have to accept that there are other opportunities that I can have that won’t trigger me as badly and empty my mind when I feel panicked.

That was not my failure. That was a jumping off point. And by the fact that I was offered a different position says… My employer sees I’m enough. So, I am.

I am not going to allow myself to give permission to those who gaslit me and weren’t there to pose who I was and who I am. They know who they are and why I’m not there. They chose what they did. And I’m choosing me now. As I should have been able to for a long fucking time.

No one but me will define who I am. And I’m pretty okay.