Strength and being strong makes me feel sad and resentful. When I was little, if I was strong it meant that I was keeping everything inside. I didn’t tell anyone when my Dad said something that hurt my feelings, I didn’t tell anyone about the fights my parents were having, I didn’t show emotion when I was being bullied at school, and I didn’t say anything about the molestations. I was taught and shown, that was what strength was. Silence. Painful, damaging silence. I know that’s not what true strength is, true strength is more than that. Part of what I think true strength means to me is to say the thing that scares me the most at any given moment, while knowing that it will help me grow as a person.
Today I’m thinking about confronting my Mom, and I feel sad. Sad that I suffered because I thought that was what strength meant. I feel resentful of my family, because they showed me that silence was the way to be strong, the way to survive. And that makes me feel very angry!
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