A Story About A Girl

There once was a little girl who was brought into this world with her mothers struggle and fight to keep her during her pregnancy because there were complications and given medicine to help. Medicine that may have caused a learning disability that went untreated because of the system and no definite answer. Her mother always said she would go through it all again just to keep her daughter alive. Her love kept her alive. She would grow up knowing there was always something wrong and not find out for sure until adulthood in testing. The little girl had no idea of the world she would be brought into and sometimes feeling as though it would have been better to not have been brought into the world at all when she grew up. She grew up without her father. Knowing and only learning as she got older that he left her and her mother. This little girl grew up with the love of her mother and the abuse of her stepfather and no real father. This little girl wanted no harm to her mother so she kept secrets. The secrets felt dividing of her mother and herself since her mother knew something was going on but the girl did not tell all. Years and years the girl endured abuse: verbal, emotional, mental, physical, and even sexual. Her mother did too. They were undeniably two worlds torn apart by the past. The little girl knew her stepfather was not her real father and always wondered what it would be like to have her real father in her life. She would never know because when she actually did get reconnected with him in adulthood he left her apologies but with his own life on his plate bailed out again. The girl who is a woman now still longs for her father. Still battles with internal demons and unanswered questions. The little girl went through life not only with the abuse of her stepfather, but the bullying she endured in school left her socially isolated. Even in adulthood she struggles to trust people. She is nice and welcoming to people and loves the world but the moment she feels threatened even if not intentional she puts her wall up. Most people do not understand her. People always said to her she wears her emotions on her sleeves. She is judged, labeled as she was her whole life and no matter what she keeps on going. She does not know how and sometimes she really does not want to exist. However she has a family of her own that has kept her grateful beyond belief and realizes that though her past haunts her she has something to hold onto: Her life. That little girl was me, is me, and I refuse to be ashamed anymore. I am still broken but not dead. Hello.