But the truth is, I was just surrounded by people who were trying to support, encourage, and love me.
I was living in community with people who were trying to be better.
So I came home amped.
I figured whatever hurtful things my family, or anyone said, I would just be able to immediately call them out on.
But it turns out, this is still a struggle area.
And maybe it will always be.
Because you could use your words to run me over with a car, and then put it in reverse and back over me, and I would probably take it. Not necessarily with a grin, but I definitely wouldn't be able to tell you how much you've hurt me.
So that quote by Eleanor, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
As much as I'd like to say I live by that, I guess I consent to a lot more cruel words than what I actually deserve.
And I try to remind myself that I am not as fragile as I once was, and that this is all a growing process.
I just wish I could say what I was feeling in the moment instead of fuming over it later while I vent to my mom.
I was born to be compassionate, not a punching bag.
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