-The ability to trust men. When my parents split up, the agreement was that my father would keep the business and my mum would keep the family house. Even though my mum had put time and money into both, he had talked her into only putting his name on both. He sold the family home in one of his many attempts to make myself, my mum and my disabled brothers homeless.
It’s not exactly the best set up in life to be able to trust men.
When my boyfriend says he’s going to buy some milk from the shop, how do I know that he won’t run away and leave me? How can I trust a stranger when someone who was meant to be one of my main protectors and care givers left me unable to trust?
How could I let myself get married and set myself up for the same situation? But if I make it so my name is on everything so I would be the one making people homeless instead of becoming homeless- am I just as bad?
-My voice. When you’re growing up with a tyrant who is unable to hear any criticism or disagreements, your voice starts to fade. There are times when I should have spoken up for what was right but I was too scared to. There are times when I wanted to start a friendly conversation with someone but I couldn’t find my voice.
-Believing in myself. His bitter words that would enter my ears and stay in my bloodstream forever. My father may have long abandoned me but his words stay with me. I no longer hear his comments but they turned into my internal running commentary. The negative thoughts that accompany me everywhere. They might have been words that he said but I hear them in my own voice now. I say it and think it about myself.
I’m so lucky. Steve is a lovely guy.
Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t see you for who you truly are.
Oh. But he likes me as I am. I think he would be able to tell if I’m someone he shouldn’t spend time with.
And just think about it. How could anyone like you? That must mean there’s something wrong with him. If he doesn’t know how terrible you are then that means he’s terrible too.
Maybe you’re right.
Of course I am.