Part 1: Is That The Reason Why You Act Like That?
Have you ever met someone who made you feel so comfortable talking to them? That you found yourself telling them something you never thought that you would speak on out loud? That is what I did last weekend. It has been a while since I really met a guy I vibe with so well. As we were sitting in the car from our date. I found myself opening up to him. I told him about this past year of everything that I had gone through. I went 29 years thinking my mom was a saint. Thinking that my aunts were 100% evil and wanted to steal the house that my grandmother supposedly left for us when she passed in 2001. I became an adult who never fully understood what I had seen that afternoon when I was 9 years old and watched my mother pick my grandmother off the floor from having a seizure and placing her in the bed leaving her hopeless and being told to not call 911.I remember telling him how this past year has been hard and an eye-opener for me. Thinking my mom was my hero, to someone I truly don't know. The look on his face is a look I will never forget. He looked very shocked, worried, and sad for me. The main facial expression that I noticed was disbelief at how nonchalant I was about it. I have learned over these past couple of months that I'm not as strong as I always thought I was. I am just good at hiding my emotions and breaking down in private. I tend to push things in the back of my head and never get back to it. I said to him, "oh don't look at me like that it's ok, I promise I'm fine. "
He looked at me with concern in his eyes and asked, " is that the reason why you act like that?"
Part 2: Don't Let Them Bully You
If you were to ask anyone what I was like as a kid, they would probably tell you I was quiet and shy. I loved art and kept my room a mess. I was a very messy child. My bed was my garbage disposal because everything went under there and it wasn't pretty. Some would never admit to it, but they would call me a crack baby. That is what my big cousins use to call me behind my back but I seem to always hear them. They weren't good whisperers or either didn't care if I heard them. I always heard the little shady remarks from them. I never stood up for myself. I was a little kid, and they were teenagers. I would just cry about it alone, or write in my diary how much I hated them.
Many of my family thought I would turn out to be either like my mother or my dad. My mother was a drug addict. Let me rephrase that, my mother is a drug addict. My father was a drug dealer. Neither one raised me and I was left with my elderly grandmother. My grandmother was very bold and feisty to be such a skinny elderly woman. I was always with my grandmother. I wasn't allowed to play with all the kids in the neighborhood because back then the neighborhood was full of crime, drugs, and trouble. I wanted to play with the other kids so bad, but my grandmother always told me to play right in front of the house. I never understood why until I got older to realize she was protecting me from the crowds my dad and mother got into. The only time I interacted with the kids in the neighborhood was on the school bus. The bullying I experience back in kindergarten was extremely dreadful. I remember the big kids took my bookbag and threw everything out of it. I cried pleading for them to give it back and they dangled it out the school bus window as if they're going to throw it. Back then the school bus drivers didn't help at all, they just ignored and drove. I sobbed until the bus pulled up to my stop. As I was getting off the bus I saw my grandmother waiting for me as usual. I remember it like it was yesterday, I was distraught. She looked at me and said, " what happened to you?" I don't even remember what I said, I just remember the visual barely able to explain what happen being so scared, and hurt. My grandmother looked at me and said, "don't let them bully you !"