Do you remember the me before you, or have you forgotten her too?
Remember the girl that cracked corny jokes and made funny faces in every picture? The one that existed before you and your darkness came in. The one that believed that one day love would happen when she least expected it, remember that? Do you remember the me that was proud of herself? Can you still remember my laugh? I bet you don’t.
Why can’t you understand that the me before you is who you took from me, and now you expect her back. You expect the girl that joked with you as a friend, you expect the one with no idea she couldn’t trust everyone. You expect bright shiny brown eyes again when you’re the one who filled them with rain.
Three years of “you’re not good enough”s and “you’re a bitch/liar/bad person/bad mother” and you still haven’t caught on to the common denominator. You. This is who you made me. This is the house you built. You say “you don’t respect me” but have you ever respected me? Have you ever looked at me and thought that maybe you were wrong? I get that it’s difficult to blame yourself, but at some point you have to know, you can’t spend years painting someone black and then expect a glow.
Do you remember me before you told me who I am? Before you spent years trying to make me bitter/jealous/resentful and all the other things you say I am? There are people in the world that create their own storms. People that make it rain and wonder “why me?” How many years have you spent telling lies about who I am when you can’t even be honest about who you are?
Did you think there’d ever come a time you wanted that girl back? Do you ever stop and think “I should leave her alone”? To you, I am all those things but to everyone else? I am me. I’m still the girl that laughed at her own jokes with the big bun on her head. I’m still an amazing woman that deserves all the love in the world. They haven’t seen the me you created that’s who they expect.
I am not that me anymore. Now I’m angry, dark, and cold. But what you don’t get is that all this came from years of being done wrong. Three years of not being good enough, three years of being trashed online, years of you calling me a bad mother and hailing your replacement me as the prize. The better mother, the better woman, the better human being–how many years did you spend treating her the way you have me? Yet now you expect me to be able to hop right back into me. The me you stole the day you started projecting yourself on me.
Now that you feel good and important and big, it’s supposed to all go away. Now that you’ve rescued yourself and your son from the “crazy baby mama” now you’re in the come up, you’ve made it in spite of “me” and now you want me on your team as a friend and faux family. “We need to blend seamlessly, for the betterment of our kid” but what you don’t get is after all these years, I don’t want to blend.
I don’t ever want to be your family, I don’t want to be your friend, all I want is the me you took that you’re asking for again. Did you think it’d be that easy? Did you think I could be fooled? The most important thing to ask–isn’t this what you wanted?
If you fill a woman up with life, guess what she will be? But if you constantly tear someone down, if you tell them they’re bad, that they don’t deserve love or happiness or success guess what they will be? You filled me with your self-hatred for years and now you think it’s going to change. This is who you made me. Why can’t you understand? “Bitch you’re not my family, and you’re not his either.” “I don’t want you anymore, I’ve found someone better.” “You’re just too bitter and jealous to get over it.” “My family.” How much time did you spend trying to make me jealous of your new girlfriend? How much time did you spend cultivating respect and boundaries? I’ll wait.
Yet you wonder why I’m mad? You seriously have no clue as to why I am who I am? Don’t you ever remember her when you’re sitting home alone? When you wonder why I can’t even look you in your face? Did it ever cross your mind that you created this life for yourself? When I needed you as a parent you were so obsessed with pretending I wanted you. You got so wrapped up in saying how I kept him away and did all these mean things to you. I’f you’ve grown as much as you say you’ll look at yourself and think Is this really what I wanted? And if the answer’s no?
That’s too damn bad considering three years of damage is done.