An Open Letter To My Bullies

Sometimes I wish I could go back and ask the people who bullied me (my dad included) why they bullied me.  I just want to know why.  Why did you pick on me?  What did I do to you?  How did I hurt you by minding my own business?  Why did you lock me in the girls' bathroom?  Why did you make me beg for forgiveness at your feet for something as trivial as talking to a boy?  Why did you go through my belongings with no respect for my privacy?  Why didn't you encourage me, no matter what I was interested in?  Why did you ask me, in front of everyone in class, "What is that on your head, it looks like bird poop?"  For the record, it was a ribbon or a bow.  I didn't wear bows for about five or six years after that.  My husband helped me to love being myself again, which included wearing flowers in my hair.  I still don't totally love myself.  In fact, sometimes I don't like looking in the mirror.

Why did you tell me that no one would ever love me?  Why did you tell me that I was the equivalent to the bottom of your shoe?  Why did you hit my mom in front of me?  Why did you make fun of me?  Why did you make fun of my name?  Why did you tell me that some guy liked me, when you knew he didn't, because in your mind, I was hideous?  Why did you have to break my heart?  

What pleasure did you get from torturing me?  Why was it fun for you to make me eat lunch by myself?  Why wouldn't you leave me alone after I turned 18?  Why did you insist on following me everywhere I went?  Why didn't you defend me?  Why didn't you stand up for me when I needed you most?  Why couldn't you ever choose me?  Why didn't you love me when I needed you most?  Why did you rape me?  Why did you ask me out, when you knew that I was looking for a relationship and a best friend instead of a one night stand?  

Why couldn't you ever understand that my family was poor and that's why I wore the clothes I wore?  Why was it so easy for you to tell me that none of the abuse happened?  Why is it is so easy for you to forget me?  How can you live with yourself on a daily basis when you know that deep down, you've hurt someone who has always loved you?  

Why, bully, did you treat me the way you did?  I never deserved it. 

I'll say this.  I hope the cycle stops with me.  I sincerely hope that if you have kids, no one treats them that way.  I hope that you don't treat them that way.  I hope that your kids don't do that to some child.  I hope the cycle stops with me.   To my rapist,  I hope that if you have a daughter, that no one does that to your child.  To my dad, I hope that you can live with what you did.  If you're so delusional that you think you did nothing wrong, I hope that someday, you find clarity.  To my mom, I know that you think that you need him and maybe that's why you do what you do.  I don't think you know how much it hurts me to see you waste away.  Maybe you stay with him out of religious duty.  I don't want to know, to be honest.  Please know that I love you.  I always will.  

-Cookie 

Clueless

 "She is literally the Polaroid of perfection.  She has everything and she'll give it to you in a second.  Looks can deceive.  She wears her heart on her sleeve.  She'll steal you away.  Not just one day, one day, is an ordinary day.  In her world, she's an ordinary girl." -Theme from TV's Clueless

I may not be popular, I may not be pretty and in the grand scheme of things I may not matter to anyone but I am a human being and I owe it to myself to love me.  I owe it to myself to put a band-aid on my wounds and let them heal.  I owe it to myself to let the past be in the past and the present my gift.  I just can't get over how hard it is to watch everyone around me get married and have babies and have the family that I've waited my whole life to have.  If NB's brother's SO gets her baby too, I'm positively going to scream.  Why don't I deserve to be happy?  I'm not getting any younger.  I'm actually getting older.  Every single freaking day.  Why don't I deserve anything?  I have to skip my birthday.  I have to skip Christmas.  I am afraid to find a job and at the same time I need a job that will make me feel better about myself.  My brain feels like its on overload.  Quitting depression pills is the hardest thing I've ever done.  But I'm doing it for me.  I'm doing it for the 15 year old me that was told she was ugly, had people look at her and go eww, the girl that was told she didn't deserve to be loved, ate her lunch in the bathroom in 9th grade, got locked in a bathroom by some bitch who thought it was funny to torment someone she didn't even know.  This is for the girl that was made fun of for being poor, made fun of for being a nobody.  This is for that girl who never in her wildest dreams thought that she would get her wishes to come true.  There is a someday.  There has to be or else there is nothing to hope for.

End of random rant about random crap.
xoxo