"Why does this shit always happen to you?"

My parents divorced when I was 7. My father, who I loved so much, didn't want much to do with my brother and me after. He'd tell us he'd pick us up on Christmas, then not show up. My mother would offer to drop us off at his place and pick us up, but he'd say he was too busy. 

When I was 19, I was in a car accident, so my mother suggested I call my father to ask him for help, since he was a police officer. I will never, till my dying day, forget his words.

"Why does this shit always happen to you? You're a fuck up just like your mother, and every thing you have is shit. I can't deal with you. Don't ask me for anything". 

I was completely crushed. I cried for days. I never spoke to him again. My children never knew him, and he died alone. I had absolutely no guilt. But when I think of his last words to me, 24 years later, I still cry. 

"You'd fail."

"You could have at least worn wings." - My dad, after my performance as the fairy in Velveteen Rabbit in middle school. 

"You'd fail in the army. Your sister would excel and your brother would even do well, but you're too sensitive. You'd fail." - My dad, after I told him I planned join the army after high school.

"She's only going to college because she has nowhere else to live." - My dad, when I got accepted to my first choice college.

"All right, that's enough kids for now." - My dad, moments after I delivered my second child.

"Hey you, I haven't heard from you in a while." - My dad, recently. 

Wonder why.

"You need to learn how to shut your mouth."

For as long as I can remember, I was sexually harassed by a family member. He sent me dirty pictures, asked for sexual favors, and told me that when I was old enough, he would show me what love meant and more. 

I tried to tell my family multiple times. No one believed me. Every time I spoke up, he would back off for a short time, but when he started again it would be more aggressive.

What stuck with me the most was after the last time I tried to say anything, another family member said to me, "You're nothing but a liar who likes to cause drama, and you need to learn how to shut your mouth." 

After that, I kept silent for 5 years before finally trying to tell someone else. 
 

"Despite your circumstances..."

I went into foster care when I was 16. I made the choice to do it, not wanting to go back to my abusive father after being taken from my drug addict mother. 

I had switched schools twice that year and got diagnosed with depression and bipolar. I felt depressed most days because of my parents, being at a new school, etc. 

But I had one amazing teacher who was always commending me on my schoolwork. I remember one thing in particular he said to me: "Despite the classes you're taking, and despite your circumstances, you're still managing to kick ASS in my class." 

That comment still makes me smile to this day. 

He ended up writing me a letter of recommendation for college and calling me over the summer to see how I was doing. This was back in 2010 and a thank you letter to him is long overdue. 

There were lots of horrible things that my parents said during my time in foster care which stuck with me too, but I wanted to share something that actually made me feel good about myself.

"You were such a difficult child."

When I was very young, my mother married a man who turned out to be sadistic and abusive in many ways. A few years later, my mother left me with my biological father because I told someone what was happening.

For years, I carried anger and resentment over all of this and hoped that one day I would get the apology I felt I deserved. 

One night when I was an adult, during a lengthy conversation with my mother over all the abuses I went through and how I felt abandoned and betrayed, she said, "I'm sorry that's how you felt. But you were such a difficult child." 

This was devastating to say the least. 

The realization that my own mother felt I deserved what I went through because I was "such a difficult child," and that the genuine apology I wanted so deeply was never going to come, broke my heart. 

Our relationship is much better these days, but I can't tell you how often those words play in the back of my mind. 

"You were such a difficult child."

Gay Lunchbox Brigade

The week before 7th grade, my family and I went back to school shopping. I found this awesome lunchbox with monarch butterflies on the front, and I was so excited to bring it to school. 

Flash forward to the first day of school, lunch period.

As walked to the cafeteria, the most popular girl in school walked by, and sneered at me, saying, "What are you, in the gay lunchbox brigade?"

I went home and begged my mom to get me a plain, black, boring lunchbox. When she said no, I carried my butterfly lunchbox for rest of the school year.

"I wish I had been more open..."

My mother and I were sitting on the porch and after bickering all day. I was laughing with some of her friends who had come over. 

She looked straight at me and said, "I wish I had been more open to the option of abortion 15 years ago."

It was my 15th birthday. 

"Would you rather date her or me?"

When I was in elementary school, my best friend moved away. Four years later, in fourth grade, she finally moved back. I was overjoyed!

But our friendship wasn't the same as it used to be.  She would always tell me she was prettier, better than me, etc. 

One day at lunch, she went up to every boy in the cafeteria, pointed at me, and said things like, "Would you date her?" and, "Would you rather date her or me?" Every single guy said they would rather date her. 

I was only in fourth grade, and my best friend had just become my very first bully. 

"That's not how repeat is spelled."

When I was in 5th grade, I was a spelling champ. I always received 100s on every test, and I studied really hard. One Friday, we had a test, and there was a bonus question that asked, "What is your pet's name?"

Before we adopted our dog his name was Pete, but since my brother's name is Pete, we named the dog Repete. So I wrote "Repete" on my test, and the next Monday I received my test back, with a big red "X" over my bonus question answer. I waited patiently until recess to confront my teacher about it. I have always been very soft spoken and shy, and it took a lot for me to confront my teacher. I explained that this is how my family spelled my dog's name, and I gave her the backstory. 

She looked at me, frowned and said "Well, that's not how repeat is spelled." I dug in my heel and fought, albeit quietly, with her for a couple minutes. She eventually said that because it was spelled incorrectly, I would definitely not be getting credit for that point. I was heartbroken and upset.

Obviously, this is such a small insignificant speck on the atrocities scale, but picture this: a small, very shy child gets up the nerve to confront someone about an injustice, and gets shot down. The teacher must have known how wrong this was, but she used her position of power to make it clear to a 10 year old that people in positions of authority are always right, and the little guy can never succeed when they stick up for themselves.

It was one of the last times I stood up and defended myself in a time of injustice until college, and even then, I was wary. I didn't think I had the power to change any injustices, or speak up for myself when I was clearly right. I think it all goes back to this one instance, which my fifth grade teacher probably doesn't even remember.
 

"Who do you chill with?"

In third grade, I started sitting with a group of girls at lunch. I didn't really talk to them, but they seemed really nice, and for some reason I felt very safe in their company. 

One day one of the girls turned to me with a smile. I was excited to start to get to know her, but then she asked me, albeit in a harmless tone, "Who do you chill with?"

She was basically asking who my actual friends were, implying it was clearly very random to her that I had chosen to sit there. 

What I wanted to say was, "You guys!" But instead I scrambled and said something like, "Oh, people at a different lunch period." 

This was the first time I realized my role in the world as an observer, a fly on the wall, who is extremely stimulated by her surroundings, but whose impact on said surroundings is less profound.