A Letter From One Broken Person To Another

A Letter From One Broken Person To Another

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Love is a beautiful feeling to have, but it's not all that cracked out to be when you are a broken person. Let me begin by explaining what it means to be broken.

To feel broken is when you don't trust people, and loving anyone is very hard and opening up to people is even harder. I am personally an extrovert, being an extrovert is easy. People who are extroverts are very approachable and sociable, but extroverts can be broken people. It is hard to trust people and love them, yet alone explain to them what it means to be broken.

Young girls and women fall in love with a broken men expecting that their love can change that person. Let me say this; it can't. As a broken person I have been loved unconditionally by many people but loving them back was extremely hard.

I want to apologize to the people who I have hurt in the process of loving me. I know that as a broken person my insecurities, my trust issues are hard to handle. I know that loving a broken person most of the time feels like a full-time job.

You did everything you could do to love me, but some people –– damaged people, broken people –– like me cannot be saved by love. It is an internal battle that each and every single one of us who feel broken and are broken, we have to face on our own. The best way I can explain being a broken person is like being a broken vase, no matter how much water you put into it, it will always leak.

Some days are harder than others, broken people sometimes feel okay but sometimes they are convinced that they are only broken and that is all they will ever be. You begin to wonder if anyone else can tell that you are broken, so you make sure nobody knows that you are feeling broken.

You put a poised artwork of your smile on you face for the audience but it leaves you when the audience is gone. Solitude finds you. You feel lonely around all of those people. Some people tell you just to get over it or that it will be OK; this too shall pass. So you try to make it pass, you try to get over it, you try to cover it up, you veil yourself and tell yourself that no one will see it.

But darling as broken people we tend to break harder every time we try to cover it up. You find yourself slipping slowly as words escape your mouth. You feel like you are becoming smaller, you keep telling yourself don't let them see it or feel it.

Darling maybe you have been worn, bruised, and feel like parts of you have been lost that you can't ever get back. But we as humans are more resilient than you think. You're still standing, you're still breathing you're still taking care of your business.

Your damage is not a problem, your weakness is not a weakness it is strength. When you become convinced that you're broken, just remember your heart is still beating, it may beat slow but its beating.

You're not broken you are living.

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I'm The Girl Without A 'Friend Group'

And here's why I'm OK with it

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Little things remind me all the time.

For example, I'll be sitting in the lounge with the people on my floor, just talking about how everyone's days went. Someone will turn to someone else and ask something along the lines of, "When are we going to so-and-so's place tonight?" Sometimes it'll even be, "Are you ready to go to so-and-so's place now? Okay, we'll see you later, Taylor!"

It's little things like that, little things that remind me I don't have a "friend group." And it's been like that forever. I don't have the same people to keep me company 24 hours of the day, the same people to do absolutely everything with, and the same people to cling to like glue. I don't have a whole cast of characters to entertain me and care for me and support me. Sometimes, especially when it feels obvious to me, not having a "friend group" makes me feel like a waste of space. If I don't have more friends than I can count, what's the point in trying to make friends at all?

I can tell you that there is a point. As a matter of fact, just because I don't have a close-knit clique doesn't mean I don't have any friends. The friends I have come from all different walks of life, some are from my town back home and some are from across the country. I've known some of my friends for years, and others I've only known for a few months. It doesn't really matter where they come from, though. What matters is that the friends I have all entertain me, care for me, and support me. Just because I'm not in that "friend group" with all of them together doesn't mean that we can't be friends to each other.

Still, I hate avoiding sticking myself in a box, and I'm not afraid to seek out friendships. I've noticed that a lot of the people I see who consider themselves to be in a "friend group" don't really venture outside the pack very often. I've never had a pack to venture outside of, so I don't mind reaching out to new people whenever.

I'm not going to lie, when I hear people talking about all the fun they're going to have with their "friend group" over the weekend, part of me wishes I could be included in something like that. I do sometimes want to have the personality type that allows me to mesh perfectly into a clique. I couldn't tell you what it is about me, but there is some part of me that just happens to function better one-on-one with people.

I hated it all my life up until very recently, and that's because I've finally learned that not having a "friend group" is never going to be the same as not having friends.

SEE ALSO: To The Girls Who Float Between Friend Groups

Cover Image Credit: wordpress.com

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A Poem: My Mother

In honor of Mother's Day, that was on the 12th, here is a poem dedicated to my mother.

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To the only person who can be my mentor, friend, and leader at the same time

To someone who would make me read my own books before bedtime

And puts everything down to make sure there is a smile on my face

To the person that I find impossible to ever replace.


Somehow you are always right even when it seems wrong

And when the worst does happen, how do you still manage to stay so strong?

I'm not only impressed but inspired by you

Knowing that somehow you'll always know me better than I do.


When I'm frustrated and annoy you, you simply try to understand me

Because you have always told me that even when you can't understand, plain acceptance is the key

You have listened to all my laughs, heard me cry, and felt my emotions like they were your own

You are the only reason I am joyous and the security I need to know that I am never alone.


To the only person who has truly taught me how to live

And watched me grow and make mistakes yet still knows how to forgive

Because that's who she is, certainly not like any other

There are many women but none like my own mother.

Happy Mother's Day!

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