I’m tired of being her
I thought I made peace with her. I stopped hating her, blaming her, punishing her. I accepted that she will always live inside me. There is no cure to this, just acceptance and moving on. Decades of therapy finally worked.
Except I was wrong.
Men are drawn to the broken little girl inside. The good men- the ones who can’t understand how a person can do that to a little girl- get pulled in and are.. fascinated? Intrigued? Want to fix me? But I never feel comfortable with them because they will never fully understand. They have a light in them that I’ll never match.
The predators- they see the broken little girl and understand her. They see the darkness inside me and are drawn to it. I let them in because I feel comfortable and understood. I know they can handle the darkness.
How is it that the older I get, the less I’m able to survive. How is it that I feel so weak after all the shit I’ve been through. What happened to “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”? Kelly Clarkson wrote a whole ass song about it. In the very least, isn’t all this therapy supposed to make me stronger? I could have bought a Porsche with all I’ve spent on therapy. At least then I’d be a broken little girl with a fucking cool car.