one hundred & nineteen: good

i spent my whole life trying to be good.

good enough. good for something.


looking back, i actually was a really, really good kid. i didn’t make a fuss. i monitored myself, my behaviour, especially at school. i didn’t talk back. i didn’t talk much at all. i was an A+ student, i was delightful, i was diligent. i did my homework. was kind to my peers. strived to be my best. was quiet, was acquiescent, blended in. they never came to my parent-teacher interviews, there was no need, my mom said. they knew i was doing fine. they didn’t want me to get a big head. i was fine. it was all good.


i bet all they had to say was that i was a good girl.

that i was so good, that good girls didn’t tell. that good girls didn’t like it, didn’t do that, didn’t let them.

that would have been all they needed to say, but once. because no one ever said that to me. i could never be good enough, i never was. no matter what. and i was desperate to be good. to be right. to belong.


i’m sorry because this all feels totally disgusting. i hate this word. i feel sick and i’m not good. i’m not good at all.

One thought on “one hundred & nineteen: good

  1. Oh sweet friend you are good, you’ve always been good. Your sick arsehole parents are the ones that are so wrong. To begin with no little girl should have to always be good to be loved, that’s just wrong. And no little girl should have to keep those awful disgusting secrets. And you did because you just wanted them to want you, to be a good girl. Oh it makes me really sad for little you. Her home wasn’t safe, and her family weren’t at all either.

    And it makes me beyond angry that your mum didn’t want to give you a big head, that she didn’t tell you she was so proud and that you were amazing. That’s what you deserved. And you deserved that with the safety of love regardless of the day or how you were behaving. You deserved a home where you could’ve told your mum, where it felt like a safe and normal thing to go to her, and tell her that your dad was doing such awful things to you. And you should’ve had a mum that stopped it.
    You have always been good, that sweet little one has always tried so so hard, and been the very best that she could be (which is pretty bloody great). Hugging you xo


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