Trying to help.

Growing up, I was always on the bigger side. My grandma would try to "help" motivate me to lose weight by saying, "Boys won't think you're pretty if you're fat."

This started when I was five years old.

"That's not going to happen."

We dated for a few months in high school, and a few years later we attempted to rekindle. He and I met up and talked for hours then later kissed that night.

We never really ended on bad terms, but during our rekindling period, which went on for a few months, we were hanging out by ourselves and I didn't want to do anything with him because I was worried, and told him, "I am scared this is all just going to end after we hook up and that you'll go back to your other ex." He reassured me and said, "That's not going to happen." So we proceeded to keep going that night.

A few weeks later, he is now back with his ex and I just feel broken for not following my gut instinct.

"I just want my kids to have a tree."

It was tradition in our house to get our tree two weeks before Christmas, and spend an evening decorating it together as a family, sipping hot cocoa and singing carols. 

But when I was five, it was Christmas Eve, and we still didn't have a tree yet. This was when I first discovered my family was poor. 

That Christmas Eve, my mom begged my proud father to ask his friend for a tree, any tree. The friend sold them in our small town, and surely would let my dad have one with a promise to repay him once business picked up again. 

Faced with disappointing his wife and children, my dad went to do something he had never in his life done before, ask for a handout. 

I tagged along, being a Daddy's girl. He firmly told me to stay in the truck, and I watched for a minute as my dad made small talk. I rolled the window down a crack, then an inch. 

"Please, just for my kids. The ugliest, smallest tree you have, I just want my kids to have a tree." My dad couldn't look his childhood friend in the eyes. 

The friend came over to the truck and opened my door. I was afraid I'd been caught eavesdropping. "Go pick a tree honey, any tree you want!" 

Being five, I picked the largest one there. 

We left, got home and put the tree up. As we started our traditional decorating, there was a knock on the door. 

A neighbor dropping off an extra ham they had in their freezer and said Merry Christmas. Another knock, this time it was handmade hats and mittens. Another knock, another neighbor. This continued well after us kids had gone to bed. 

Christmas morning, I was the first to get up, so I snuck downstairs to see if Santa had come. I found my father sitting at the foot of our Christmas tree, crying. The room was full of gifts, some wrapped, some not, each one labelled. 

I sat in my dad's lap, unable to understand how he could possibly be crying. 

"I asked God for a miracle, instead He gave us great neighbors, and a great town."

Thirty years later, my husband still can't understand why I cannot pass a Toys for Tots bin without donating.

"You made it."

After graduating from high school at 18, I fell into a life of drugs and alcohol. I wanted to get clean, so I went to my grandmother's house. Our relationship wasn't great, but she had offered me a place to stay if I was ever in need. Strung out on meth and cocaine, I called her numerous times on the way to her house, but she didn't answer. Once I arrived at her house, she didn't answer the door. The police showed up and told me to get off the property. 

That night I slept at the bus stop around the corner from her house. I slept in the snow. 

The next morning I called my uncle who lived in another state, begging for help. All he did was give me my father's phone number. My only memory of my father was him locking me in the closet while he beat my mother. When I got ahold of him, he said, "Don't you get the point? I didn't want you then, and I don't want you now." 

I went back to my mother's house, who started crying when she saw what I had become. She helped me get off the drugs and back on my feet. 

I am now 20 years old and two years clean. I have two jobs and am in college online. I've met an amazing guy who has a similar history and is three years clean. My mom and I have an amazing relationship.

What stuck with me wasn't all the horrible things that were said to me over the years. It's what my boyfriend and mom tell me every day. 

"You're beautiful and amazing." 

"Thank you for being sober." 

"You made it." 

No matter how much my family screwed me over, I made it! 
 

"I didn't know what to do with you..."

When I was 18, I moved a few states away from home to be with my boyfriend. Four years later, my dad was sick in the hospital. I flew home to be with him, and he passed away days later. 

I returned home to my boyfriend, and we started arguing about something stupid. He looked at me and said, "I was going to break up with you before your dad died, but then I didn't know what to do with you, so I just stayed."

I felt my heart break a second time, and have never felt such pain from someone I loved saying something so awful. 

We broke up soon after, and I have never been happier. 

But those words still echo in my mind when I think about my dad.

"I never loved you."

During a fight, I told my boyfriend of five years that I was willing to marry him. 

He replied with, "I never loved you. I was just waiting for someone better to come along."

"You're never going to do anything with your life..."

My ex-boyfriend, who I dated for almost five years, told me, "You're never going to do anything with your life except flip burgers at some fast food joint." 

Now I'm in college, getting my degree in cosmetology. I think about his words every day. They motivate me to do my best in all of my classes.
 

"I don't want you to be alone."

The day my husband told me he was no longer in love with me, I asked why he had waited so long to admit it. 

He said, "Because without me, you'll be alone, and I don't want you to be alone."

Ever since that night, I have made every effort to be okay with just my son and me. But those words still ring in my ears in the middle of the night when I am alone.
 

"Perfect."

When I was thirteen, I was raped, and both of my breasts were severely mutilated. I had to have a partial mastectomy because of it. 

Eleven years later, my husband saw me in the nude for the first time on our wedding night. I had never told him of the trauma I endured for fear that he might not want me anymore. 

His reaction was the opposite of what I expected. 

He kissed every scar with tenderness I didn't even know existed, and he said to me, "These scars only give your stretch marks something to gossip about. Your breasts are perfect." 

That was the moment I truly fell in love with him. 

"I just want you to remember"

For as long as I can remember, my dad and I have been emotionally distant from one another. 

When my first serious boyfriend and I broke up, I couldn't eat or sleep. I was pretty much in the deepest depression I have been in in a while. 

My mom called my dad and told him that she was worried about me because I wasn't eating. 
One day, I picked up the phone and heard this:

"I know you're upset and probably don't want to talk, but I just want you to remember that Daddy loves you." 

I never told my dad that just those few words meant more to me than he will ever know.