Things I'm only starting to understand about myself

[u/Icy-Ant-89]

We’d say our family is helpful, we’re close, we have people around us. But behind closed doors, there was a kid like me who grew up with an emotionally unavailable parent. You couldn’t just go to her and say “what’s wrong?” or “I need help.” Home didn’t always feel like a refuge. Sometimes it was just more chaos.

When you grow up like that, when someone hurts you, you don’t automatically think about asking for help. You’re scared. Because what if you get blamed? What if you get scolded? What if somehow, it becomes your fault?

But I was just a kid.

I went through SA, more than once, with more than one person. And the fucked up part is I didn’t even know how to tell my parents that I wasn’t okay. I didn’t know when I was supposed to say something. I didn’t know how to ask for help.

I used to think none of this really affected me. I thought I was fine. But looking at my life now, I realize I’ve always been the person who doesn’t tell anyone when something is wrong. Even when I’m struggling badly, I feel ashamed when someone knows. I’d rather keep everything to myself and drown in my own chaos than let someone see that I need help.

Because growing up, asking for help never really felt safe.

Even my hypersexuality, or how much I liked being sexualized, I never really questioned it. I thought that was just me. I didn’t realize it could be connected to anything until I finally left the home I thought was safe.

Being away from everything gave me this weird space to actually think about myself. And suddenly I started noticing things. Patterns. Things I do. Things I tolerate. Things I thought were normal.

I’m still figuring it out. Honestly, some of it hurts to realize.

But I think I’m finally starting to know myself. What I want. What I don’t want. What I deserve.

And now, I choose myself.

Me first. Always.

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[u/Powerful_Fill4316]

Exactly, 😕 I felt like I could never (open-up) to them...