Longer than I should have, I made myself an option. I made myself into something I didn't want to be. I became someone I couldn't have imagined myself as. I made myself into a monster.
It all started as a young elementary schooler. I didn't have as close of a relationship with my dad until I got to high school/college, but he moved out when I was in elementary school. Ultimately, he left my mom because she was spending more time with another guy. Being in fifth grade, you don't really think too much of the concept of relationships because someone is always there. You have some kind of figure there, physically, in the house. Plus, if your mom's new boyfriend has three kids, you'd be excited to have more friends to play baseball, soccer, and kickball with. I was expecting everything in my life to change for the better. I was expecting my life to be completely fine and having the greatest of friends.
I can tell you what I wasn't expecting. I wasn't expecting all of the yelling. I wasn't expecting all of the tears. And personally, I wasn't expecting, for someone who was soon to be my brother, to take my undergarments and try to look at me through our farm house door, while I showered. There's nothing anybody in life can do to prepare a young 11-12 year old girl for that. Nothing.
So many emotions built up inside me over and over again. I wasn't sure if I was sad, angry, or if I just felt numb.
It's so difficult to tell anyone about these kinds of things because nobody believes you at first. When nobody believes you, there's nobody there to help you. You begin to feel hopeless. You begin to feel like you're in the wrong because of someone else's actions towards you.
Sometimes, people only begin to notice you when you get out of the shower and run up the stairs with tears flowing down your face. You don't even know if it's the water from the shower still dripping from your body because you run straight from the shower to your room as soon as you put your towel on, or if it's all of the emotions finally pouring out.
It could even be a combination of both.
That's at the house. In public, you're the happiest and most cheerful person around. You enlighten the mood because you know what it feels like to be in the dark. You know what it's like to come home from school or sporting events and just sit in your dark room, alone. You can't mistrust someone when you're alone, right?
Do you know what you can do when you're alone? Watch several movies day after day while just lying in your bed. Maybe even get crazy and read a few books in between the mess. I never got big into video games because that meant I would have to go downstairs with everyone else and be with the people who blame me for that person's actions. I couldn't tell you how many wrestling videos I've watched just alone in my room.
It's one thing to feel uncomfortable because you're a Tom boy who would rather not dress like a girl, but it's another thing when you're told you're not allowed to dress like a girl. I wasn't allowed to wear skin tight clothes or even leggings when that individual was around because it would "provoke him to continue his actions".
Are you kidding me? I'm not allowed to be comfortable in my own home because someone else has no self control and no respect for women? This wasn't my home.
I spent a lot of time away from that house. As often as I could, I'd be in the wrestling room or the weight room because it meant I wasn't at "home". That place wasn't my home and I couldn't wait to get out. Sometimes, I wouldn't even leave my room to eat because it meant if have that moment in the kitchen where I'd have to see him and my memories would flashback. I spent more time away than I did at that house. I'd rather be across the country wrestling in tournaments than be even close to that house.
Once my "family" actually started to believe me, it was a whole new ballgame. All of the clothing rules started to be in place and I was told I'd have to speak to counselors and therapists about what had happened over and over again. I was a young girl. I struggled so much with self worth and now I was being told I had to tell people about it. I refused. Nobody knew my past unless my mom spilled it to just about anyone and everyone. I didn't tell my mom much after she started telling everyone.
That's my personal business, ya know? I didn't want everyone to look at me differently, if my so called "step brother", was a pervert. I especially didn't want people to know, for my mom and step dad's sake, since they didn't actually do anything about it.
The bathroom door never got fixed so there wouldn't be a chance of anyone seeing through while I showered and my underwear still kept coming up missing. At one time, there was even a rule set that I would have to tell people when I showered to make sure that boy wouldn't try to sit at the bathroom door to get a peek. Even then, there were still complaints that someone had to sit next to the bathroom door while I took a 5 minute shower.
I felt like an option.
I wasn't a priority in anyone's life. I was a burden on most people around me. I didn't have someone to be by my side through in and throughout. That's how I felt anyway.
As I moved over 400 miles away to college, I started to see my worth. I was actually on my own to take control of my fate. I had struggled for so long with my own image and now I was set free.
Maybe I was set too free.
I got out of control. I lost so many fights I was in control of. I didn't accomplish anything I had the potential to. I'd start getting back up to my feet and have something happen in my life to make me fall further than where I started.
I moved away from my hometown. To an extent, I didn't really have a place to call home. I just bounced from dorms to other people's houses because I didn't feel welcomed with my own family. That was until I moved into my apartment with my boyfriend and best friend this past month. I have a home and I have a family.
It's been a difficult road. Sure, at times I've made my road more difficult that it should be, but I'm here. I fought all of the thoughts.
The thoughts of being alone and the thoughts that this world would be better off without me. So much that I watched my mom try to overdose on pain killers and put the blame on me. That really stirred up the house and nobody wanted to even look at me. Not to mention how many different names I got called because of what my mom did. Nobody took into account of me. Nobody looked in my direction when I was struggling.
Before he passed, my Law Enforcement teacher in high school told me, "you don't leave this world when you take your life, you leave everyone else to mourn you." He was there. He was on my side and that's just about it. He knew my struggles and he was there.
His voice still sticks with me anytime I'm in trouble. His voice sticks with me now when I know I can be putting more work into my life.
For a long time, I lived in fear. Fear of what people thought of me and fear of what I thought of my own self. There's no reason to be fearful. You have a voice in this world and there's other people who need to hear your voice.
I know my self worth and I know I'm my own priority. I fought so long to come to the realization that I am not alone. I have friends and my family, here at my new home. I'm not someone's backup and I know I have so much potential to do great things. I know I've wasted so much time, especially being in college, but I'm here now. I'm not just physically here, but mentally, I'm ready to go.
