Dear Me

Dear me, I know that I haven't always treated you respectfully or validated you. I know that you have always had to be strong in some way. Strong for your six younger siblings, who looked to you for support security and comfort while growing up. For your dad who struggled with addiction (and eventually left). You had to be strong for your mom who worked three jobs just to provide for the family but was still cold and distant from you. I know you most of all had to be strong for yourself. I know your struggles because I am you.

But what is strength? There are many ways in which you can become a strong person. Personally, I have three types of strength acquirement. I was forced to be strong, where there was no choice but to play the hand I was dealt. I was "woman up" strong where I just had to grow a pair of lady balls and step up to the challenge because no one else would have. And now, I am Choosing to be strong. Which is when I go out of my way to be a better person because it takes strength to want to change and improve myself.

So finally, I have decided to acknowledge myself and my struggles. Typically in a prompt such as this one, I would always write about my mom. After all she did provide for six children all alone. And my mom is strong, she is independent, she is brave, and she is in some ways, a role model. But like everyone else on the planet, she has her flaws. Some of her flaws included somehow not taking responsibility for anything that went wrong in her life. She didn't show me the affection she showed my brothers. (Which I assume is because I reminded her too much of my baby sister who passed away. Yet another way my mom is incredibly strong.) She didn't push me to be a successful person. She didn't care what career I chose to pursue, she didn't care that I graduated high school a year early. So though my mom is an amazing, strong woman, I'd be telling a lie if I said she's the strongest woman I know. It takes more strength to care about someone that it does to shut them out. So here I am, for the first time, choosing myself. Choosing to

While on the topic of my parents, I'd like to explain the first type of my strength. Forced strength. All I have of my dad are memories of him as he is no longer a part of my life. My dad was an addict, he was mean and violent. He also happened to be bipolar and schizophrenic and no, he wasn't medicated. My dad often complained to me about frivolous things. For example, if my brothers were too loud when they were playing, he'd give me three options. He said I could quiet them down, watch them get beaten or take their beatings. Or if he and my mom got into an argument, he would call me to come close to him and he'd vent to me while usually beating up on various household objects. My dad and I never had a traditional father- daughter role. He expected me to be the adult in our relationship, even as a six year old girl. When I was ten he took me in his car to an abandoned road and told me drugs are okay. He shot up in front of me. This experience has stuck with me since then and probably will for the rest of my life. My dad relied on me in ways no parent should ever have to rely on their child. This forced me to be strong.

The first thing that required the "woman up" type of strength as I described before was having to be there for my brothers. My mom and dad were always fighting. Often times they'd both get physical with each other. It was my job to protect my brothers from that. I was the one to take them into another room and feed them and put on a movie or play music so that they wouldn't hear the nasty things my parents said to each other. At night when my parents fought and I couldn't distract them from the sounds of my parents screaming at each other, I'd let my brothers pile into my bed and hug my various stuffed animals. This is how they felt safe. I moved away from home when I turned 17 and now my brothers have been living with me for two going on three years now. I cannot be weak in front of them. I must be strong.

Another way the above explanation of strength applies is for my mental health. I have had too many traumatic experiences that I can't count them all on both hands. This, along with genetic predispositions, led to mental health issues. I have been battling with depression and anxiety for half my life. I have tried to seek out a counselor but he too was sexually inappropriate with me. Currently I would like to try to go to therapy again but I am scared. (This is the first time I am admitting this by the way.) I am strong because I have kept going all these years, all by myself. I am proud that I have and I am proud that I will be seeking out help again. I am proud of being able to "woman up."

Now that I'm older and all of this is in the past, I choose to be strong. I choose to further my career any chance I get, I choose to be a good parent for my one year old son. I choose to help other people. I chose to write to this prompt, to myself not to be narcissistic, but to, for the first time in my life admit it to myself. I am strong.