eighteen, part deux: lesson

i feel like unlearning some of the lessons of my childhood might take me the whole rest of my life.

i absorbed useful ones too, i’ll have you know, in among the total shit ones. those would include stuff like, being kind matters. biting on popcorn kernels will chip your molars. kittens really appreciate lullabies. it is best to be a nice, quiet girl.

the biggest lessons, the ones that have the deepest networks, the most pull, are the oldest. and they include biggies like, you are a wrong person. you make everything worse. you are unworthy of love. you will end up alone.

i don’t think those things were actually said, out loud, or with any sort of directness. it was far more subtle. but i studied these lessons, deeply and constantly, and they sunk into my very cells. these lessons were the very water in which i learned to swim.

sometimes i wonder who i might be if i grew up learning i was enough. that i was special and funny and wonderful. that i was important. it feels like wasted potential, wasted years, a wasteland of a life, that i have to unlearn so much of the garbage that was deposited in me, like a thing, like a receptacle. that sounds bitter and angry and i guess it is. i don’t stay here for long, but yeah, right now i’m just fucking pissed off that along with my full time, paying job, i have to work so hard (and pay two other people to help me) to sort, re-sort, and un-sort a mess that i didn’t fully make.

ugh. ugh. ugh.

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