sometimes the people that were supposed to love you endlessly without condition, love you as best they can and hurt you deeply because they are only able to operate out of their brokenness and pride. eventually this feels like they don’t really love you at all.
sometimes when i replay scenarios of lashing out in revenge, my imagination wanders to a place where you realize how excruciating the pain is you inflicted on me and you scoop me up and profess your unconditional love, explaining all of the wounds away.
and then I usually return to my “angry” scenario and realize I’m not really angry at all.
only my heart is broken in a million pieces and I’m trying to reconcile how my people of origin, some of these people I spent most of the first quarter of my life with, could choose to twist the knife and pour the salt,
again, into my deep, gaping wounds.
immediately and/or eventually, because this may take a minute, it’s time to mourn the cruelty and lack of love, time to accept that i cannot and probably will not be able to understand the why nor the how.
and then it’s almost time to remember and stand confidently in knowing that i am walking in truth and love and that casts out all of that other awful junk, because i am His daughter.