I never had any physical scars. My father never hit me or was violent to me. No, he was a very clever man. Instead, he left me with a ton of emotional scars.
I appear confident.
I find it easy to talk to people and always have. I am able to laugh and enjoy life. I like the little things: fish & chips with lots of vinegar, Earl Grey tea, T.V in bed, the little things. With him, I could never enjoy the little things; he never let me. He tore away my confidence and any self belief I had was destroyed long ago.
I have lost all identity.
I used to know who I was. As a child I had a deep sense of identity. As an adult however, I have lost it. Everything I thought I was, he denied. I considered myself to be kind, fun, ambitious and positive. He spent every day contradicting that and stating I was the opposite. I forgot who I was, and I am yet to discover the ‘true’ me.
I have always had problems with my weight. I would never say I was heavy or obese but I haven’t felt comfortable in my own skin since the age of fourteen. When I discovered my father’s true identity, initially, I hated myself. I was sickened by me. After a day of being told how disgusting I was, I would cry silently, breathlessly upstairs and hit and slap myself over and over again. I needed to punish myself for making this horrible, regrettable choice.
Am I worthy of anything?
I certainly don’t feel this way now. I know that I am worthy of anything. But there was a time where I doubted if I deserved a good life. My father often told me I never deserved anything good to happen to me. I was bad luck. Shit followed me around. When you are constantly told how worthless you are, won’t you eventually believe it?
The emotional scars are slowly healing. There are a lot to overcome.
I no longer appear confident; I am confident.
I am starting to love the little things again.
One day, I will find me.
I want to love myself a little more, this I think will be the hardest.
I can be, do, wish for whatever I want. It won’t hurt anybody.