I’ve spent most of my life crippled by a fear that disguised itself as caution. It manifested and masqueraded in ways I’m only just beginning to understand. I could never trust anyone enough to let them in completely. On my deepest levels I never believed in pure intentions because my history had taught me otherwise. There had been so many attempts to take what I wouldn’t give, I could only assume that was the future awaiting me. A girl who couldn’t quite be described as pretty, so she was insecure enough to let you get close, but was just too smart for her own good. Physical and mental violations compounded, manipulating me into believing I was less. Unlovable. That I could never be enough. I let myself buy into that for my entire adult life because I wasn’t ready to face my trauma, I wasn’t ready to heal. And now I sit, a few weeks shy of my 39th Birthday, lamenting an existence I didn’t get to have, a love I will never know. My hope for you, Dear Reader, is that you see through the bullshit insecurity disguises as truth. Believe that you’re worth the effort, your happiness depends on it. 🖤
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