the effects of having ‘money’

Money can either bring the worst out of people or the best. But most times, it brings out the worst. Money can make people say and do the most horrible things out of spite, jealousy or in some instances, expect.

Why is the word expect in italics?

I can’t emphasise just on how many relationships and friendships were ruined because of expectations. These expectations caused the downfall of our relations but I can admit that these downfalls were needed because without them, we would still be living a toxic life.

My family is not by any means, rich. We do however, live a comfortable life. We do not have to worry about where our next meal is going to come from and we definitely do not live pay check to pay check. So we live comfortably. We have nice, comfortable cars and we live in a nice comfortable home.

However, after the death of my father, the true faces of relatives and friends come to surface. The inheritance from the death of my father prompted these people to develop the mentality that my family was ‘rich’ and to be fair, I understand their sentiment but at the same time, we are not ‘rich’.

We live comfortably. We don’t spend more than we need to and we make sure we can afford something before we do something.

A relative of mine once expected my mother, the holder of the inheritance, to pay for the adoption of a child for her. She expected us to buy him new clothes, new luggages and new everything. While we were kind and would love to extend our help, it only goes so far to a certain extent. Our help is not limitless.

My mother is a single parent now who is widowed. She needs all the money she can get and if this money is all that she has now, then she has much reason to deny anyone help.

A ‘friend’ of ours who we barely know and barely knows us pushed us to open our own business and hire her as one of our own because she refused to look for her own employment. During the coronavirus crisis, she expected limitless hours and refused to settle for less than what we could afford. She often told us about her financial problems as if looking for financial help and not once did she appear concerned about the decline of sales during the coronavirus as she had the perception that we had money.

She sees all our comfortable cars and strives to buy one just like ours even when she cannot afford it.

None of my family show off our wealth. We don’t drive upper class cars like BMWs or Mercedes cars. We drive average middle class vehicles and yet, people look at us as though our wealth is all but nothing.

There is a saying that comes in different forms — don’t show off your wealth because at the end of the day, we all get buried in the same coffin.

But what protects us ‘wealthy’ people who do nothing but remain modest? How are we supposed to treat those that treat us as ATMs even while we live a comfortable, but tough life? We are surviving but not for long.

No one sees it from our point of view. Our wealth is not limitless. It does not live on forever. We may have ‘money’ now but what about the next 30 years?

The effects of having ‘money’ can cause you to lose relationships because of how people treat you. They say that people treat you better when you have money but I say the opposite. People treat you worse especially when they’re comfortable enough.

i hope this is my last

This is a great day to remember, of all the days in my life.

I’m sure of this one, not because he is the first person who genuinely wants to be with me and isn’t because of other childish reasons that I would’ve come up with many months ago to convince myself. I’m sure of this one because of myself — the one thing that had been pulling my past relationships back and this time, I’m sure of myself and this time, I’m sure with him.

These last two years have been a whirlwind of terrible times, relationships and friendships. I’ve had to deal with so many toxicity that when I removed them from my life and left them in 2019, I feel like I’ve never been in a better position than I am today. I’ve molded my very being into a woman that I didn’t think I could be.

I hope that this relationship is my last. I hope that I never have to find someone else again because I’m sure of this one. I once said that I wanted to marry someone I only knew for a month but if I knew what I know now then, I would’ve thought differently. Not because he was a bad person but because there was someone out there who was willing to give me more.

Before today, I never knew what it was like to be wanted by someone.

I was always on the chasing end of a one-sided relationship but this one is equal on all grounds. We both want to be with each other and we both want to make things work. I was always open to the idea of a long-distance relationship but he was the first of us both to suggest to me that we should give it a shot, even when I tried to deny all possibilities of it because I was afraid.

He’s not embarrassed of me as how my past flings have been. To say that he would show me off is an understatement because I know he’ll do more than that. I think of him as someone important to me — a treasure that I want to keep forever and a gem that I want to protect from this world.

I have had my bad share of relationships before and I couldn’t heal from the trauma of my first boyfriend. It affected all my relationships after and I couldn’t learn to function in a healthy relationship but this time, I feel like I’m at my best. I thought I couldn’t unlearn all the toxic traits that I had picked up from him but I have and I am learning everyday how to pick myself up and be a better woman.

The woman I was 10 months ago, begging for a boy who showed me my first healthy relationship even when I could not live in it has now evolved to a woman who understands what she deserves and what her partner deserves.

I think a “thank you” is in place for some people.

jan 1, ’20 — happy new year

It’s the new year.

I still find myself wishing for the past to come back even though we’ve finally reached a new year and sometimes I wish that I can reset my memories so that I can start afresh but that would mean losing what’s important to me. It would mean losing the memories that I still hold so dear to me and it would mean losing what I have left of someone I deeply care about.

As we step into this new year, I can say a lot of things have changed since the start of 1st January 2019.

Exactly a year ago, I was still begging my abusive ex-boyfriend to stay in my life, hoping to turn things around or be given another chance at love. I was in one of the worst places of my life and this was only the start to subsequent heartbreaks from the trauma of my past relationship.

I had grown so much over the last year. I learned to set standards for myself and that a man needed to deserve me before I gave him my all, and I learned that what happens, happens. No more begging anyone for attention, no more self-doubting. No more settling and no more feeling sorry for myself.

2019 was a test of my courage, bravery and mental strength.

I am so goddamn strong for being alive right now because it had tested me enough with the betrayal of my best friend and so much more. It tested me when the people at work had so much to say about me behind my back and it tested me at home. It tested me in the last months of my wavering relationship with my ex-boyfriend and most of all, it tested me in losing the one man I would’ve wanted to marry.

Never have I been placed in a difficult year, with the exception of 2018 when I lost my father but I feel like the years get tougher and tougher as I go out into this world each passing day.

I want to say one thing — 2019 was full of lessons. They were lessons that I never knew I needed but it was enough for me to learn.

2020 will come at me stronger than before and I know I will be tested against my own wits. I will contemplate life so many times that it’ll look suicidal but I know that these are just tests. I will look to the sky so many times that I’ll ask God why he does this to me and maybe, I’ll get an answer for my strength.

Maybe, something might go my way this time.

But one thing I learned in 2019 was that with losses come great success.

to a friend

I must express my anxiety in writing this. This has been no easy task in the last few weeks but to reflect is greatly beneficial and this episode did not disappoint.

I had known her for almost two years now.

We were not close in the first year, and only grew closer in the last year of our friendship. We were on the opposite sides of the spectrum when it came to having anything in common and the only thing we ever bonded were over boys.

However, that didn’t stop us from having weekly lunch meetings, talking the latest gossip and generally having fun. The two-year age gap between us didn’t stop much and we were at some point, at the best of our friendship.

There were so many traits of her that I ignored over the course of our friendship because she was my friend — so many things that should have been an indicator that she was far too immature for this life but I was at odds with myself.

This girl, this child, was far too immature and I watched from the sidelines as she made bad, selfish decisions over and over again. She hurt the feelings of so many people around her and I watched all of it and whilst I tried not to control her decisions, I could do nothing more but to advise her on things that she would not listen to.

While she constantly hurt her friends with her bad decisions, she continuously came back to me for advice to make herself feel better and yet, she followed none of it. I found myself growing frustrated with each day but I could do nothing more than watch.

I watched as her long-distance boyfriend broke up with her because of her constant fighting and arguments over nothing. I watched as she found a new man as a rebound less than a month later at a club, and she fell in love. I watched as she cried when she found out that he was married. I watched as she continued this relationship with a married man knowing that he had two children waiting for him back home for the next four months. I watched as she swallowed the promises that he would leave his wife for her. I watched as she slept with three different men in the same weekend, each not knowing that they existed and each thinking that they all had her to themselves.

Her friends watched her from the sidelines as she made all these bad decisions and so did I. And those decisions never stopped there.

I watched as she left a boy for four hours while on a date to meet with the married man and sleep with him. I watched as she broke her best friend and another boy’s heart in the same night as she got together with the same married man at the clubs. I watched her cry to me the next day and ask for my advice to do better only to not listen. I watched as she left another boy at the clubs by himself on my birthday and leave with someone else.

And I watched as she stabbed me in the back and ruined my relationship with the only person I saw a future with.

She laughed as I expressed my disappointment with her. She didn’t heed my words seriously but then again, she never did. I watched her handle the situation immaturely and without hesitation, I cut her out of my life.

I do not hate her. I don’t, but I cannot see myself to be acquainted with her again. Not with her betrayal and not with her immaturity. She needs to grow up and sometimes, people don’t do it at all in their lifetime. I can only hope that she is one of the lucky ones.

Maybe one day, we’ll be friends again.

But today is not that day.

was it worth it?

Was it worth it bringing up a topic that we were both not ready to talk about?

To begin with, it was meant to be a discussion, a way to talk about our feelings and communicate but communication goes both ways and sometimes, not everyone gets it.

So was it worth it, bringing up a topic we both weren’t ready to talk about, not knowing that they wouldn’t have accepted your feelings and opinions because of how one-sided they were?

Was it worth it ruining something good just to talk about our feelings?

Recently, I expressed a feeling I had; disappointment and hurt — to someone I deeply cared about.

And it was about an extremely sensitive topic for both him and I; money.

What was meant to be a discussion about my feelings turned into an argument that went back and forth about him telling me not to tell him how to spend his money, and me explaining that I wasn’t doing that but rather upset that he was spending his money when he should have been saving up for a specific reason we both knew was important.

We didn’t speak for a week and when we did, he was cold and hostile.

I tried hard to talk to him about it in the next few days so we could fix whatever we had broken and he avoided it and stopped replying my messages after our short conversation.

I think it was worth it. A lot of people say the same because we know what his true colours are but some part of me wishes that I never brought it up at all because then I wouldn’t lose what we had over a conversation about my feelings.

Understanding that communication is essential to every relationship is important but having the ability to apply it in real time is completely different. Everyone can talk about how communication is important but when it’s our turn to communicate our feelings, it’s barbaric and out of line to them.

I wouldn’t call it narcissism or manipulative but rather egoistic and immature. Prideful and narrow-minded. A dreamer but not a doer.

Was it worth it?

Yes.

Do I regret it?

A little, I miss him but I could do without him.

He was perfect but perhaps he was looking for a way out of this relationship and whatever it was, he took it and ended it.

I think it was worth it because I did us both a favour.

untitled

I’m sitting here at the dining room table during Ramadan, a holy Muslim fasting month, thinking about what I could name this post but I couldn’t find one that was apt for what I’m about to talk about.

Just recently, I’ve been having these thoughts in my head about what life was worth and how it’s been changing right in front of me. I can imagine myself watching my actions, words, thoughts and feelings as if I were watching a movie of my own life, and weirdly enough, things are happening; things that I never thought would be happening even at the worst or best times of my life, all working out in my favour.

Ever since my toxic ex-boyfriend and I broke up, I’ve been down in the slums. It felt like all meaning to life was being sucked away from me, and considering he had been my first boyfriend, I felt like I was truly losing all of life.

My ex-boyfriend wasn’t a bad person. He isn’t, in a matter of words. But in some ways, he was so bad, so, so bad that it made my mental health deteriorate. It made me doubt my self-worth to the point that I couldn’t think of anything good about myself except that if I lost him then I would have lost everything. To think about it now, it was mental abuse.

I was told by him that he was unable to love me because I wasn’t beautiful enough. I was told by him that if I just grew up, then maybe people would start to respect me more. I was told by him that if I did something a certain way, or dressed a certain way, or looked a certain way then perhaps, I would find love. It was he, who made me feel awful for walking out of the house with my mediocre newly-learned makeup skills by saying that my makeup was “heinous”.

He made me feel inadequate on so many levels. He compared me to ex-girlfriends, citing that at some points in his life, he wanted to marry all of them but then he would blatantly tell me that he saw no future with me, and yet, he still continued to date me just to boost his own ego and use me for his own selfish reasons.

Oh, I was a fool for letting him abuse me like that.

Never again.

I clung onto him for months after we broke up because I was madly in love with him. I loved everything about him and when he hurt me, I would make up excuses for him no matter how much I knew that what he said and did was wrong. I hated him but at the same time, I loved him. And it was toxic behaviour coming from me.

At this moment, I haven’t spoken to him in a month. It’s considered to be an achievement because whenever I tried to leave him, I would go back to him within days to a week. I would find myself craving for his attention and a conversation, even if it would end in heartache.

But now, it’s different.

Now, I stop writing him the letters that I will never send. I can look at his pictures and not imagine myself crying for him anymore as how I did all those months ago. I realise the standards and worth that I set for myself, and if a man is unable to fulfil that then he is not a man worthy of me at all.

Now it’s different because every day, I look in the mirror and I see this beautiful girl staring back at me. I never understood her beauty before. I was convinced that she was everything but beautiful but now, I see it more clearer than ever. I see the smile that always struggled to be beautiful turn into light, I see the hair that had grown out so becomingly after his criticism of its short length months prior, I see the olive skin that tans brown instead of pink under the sun.

And I see where the pain has healed slowly but surely. 

The beautiful glow that illuminates beyond physical appearance – an inner beauty that never struck me until now.

Some day, I wish I’d never met him. 

I would find myself in a daze, thinking about how he could lie to me so easily, to use me and abuse me in different ways and never bat an eyelash. His manipulation still haunts me and the sickening words he used to make me commit such heinous crimes never fail to make me tear up. I would feel my heart swell up in pain and the lump form in my throat but then I remind myself that the time is over. I remind myself that he’s so far away from me that he cannot hurt me anymore. 

I remind myself that even though he had hurt me, I had the support of everyone I loved and he had no one; the only reason why I never wanted to let go of him. 

He is a sad, lonely boy who can never understand why no one likes him. He will never understand how his words and actions impacted me even when I’ve tried so hard to convey my pain to him. He will never understand the trauma he put me through. He will never understand the sacrifices I made for him just because I loved him.

And he will never understand the true meaning of being free and beautiful, because he is not free.

And neither is he beautiful.

a letter to you

It’s been a year without your guidance.

How did one year manage to pass so quickly without a stray of thought aligned with the days of the week? How did I turn twenty as quickly as I am about to turn twenty-one in just short of six months?

So much has happened; so, so much that it’s unexplainable.

I got my heart broken for the first time by someone real, so real that when I touched him, I felt not only his skin but his soul.

I went through the stages of losses, suicidal thoughts included and depression being one of the side effects.

I got in and out of fights with members of family, friends and colleagues because I was at the stage in life where nothing could have hurt me more than your absence.

My heart aches for your presence again. I sometimes find myself staring at pictures of you wondering how it was possible that it’s been a year now since I’ve last spoken to you. A year since I’ve last heard your voice, a year since I heard your magical laughter.

A year since I’ve seen you at all.

I think about the day I last saw you. The last thing that I ever said to you in person was “goodbye” but I didn’t mean for it to be forever. I think about how I shouldn’t have let you go up on that plane. Maybe, you should have missed the flight and skipped your much needed holiday. Maybe, we could have done something else as a family instead.

All these thoughts swirling in my mind never ceases but a year has passed and another year will go on, for many more for the rest of my life and I’ll think about how lucky I was to have known this amazing person in my life once upon a time.

My father, my best friend.

A letter to you because I can no longer speak with you so I can only address my words in hopes that one day, I can convey them to you.

punishing the good

This is not the story of how good deeds go unpunished.

This is not the story of how good people are always on the bad end of the lucky spectrum.

And this is not a story of the good being bad.

No, this is an experience that I, and millions of others have all felt and encountered at least once in their lives. This is the root and cause of all lack of motivation to aspire and inspire and this, unfortunately, needs to be addressed.

I went to religious school from aged 7 until I was 14 when I decided that I’ve had enough of it. Being raised Muslim wasn’t anything bad. In fact, I cherished the idea of being Muslim because I felt like it was a religion that made the most sense to me and one that God truly listened to.

When I was 13, I remember taking an exam for religious school. We were to perform a proper set of prayers with recitation in Arabic and everything else including what to do next such as prostration, standing and so on.

I was raised a Muslim but not religious. I didn’t know how to pray until I was 20. I could read the Quran but never finished and it’s been at least seven years since I’ve touched one. I have a hijab set at home but never wear one out.

In a normal Muslim’s eyes, everything that I am is worth condemning for.

During this particular exam, I couldn’t perform the prayer. I didn’t know how to and all I did was just guess what to do next. I didn’t even recite anything because I had zero knowledge.

The examiners watched me with frowns on their faces for about 5 minutes before one of them stopped me.

“You’re a Muslim and yet, you don’t know how to pray?”

Her question seemed simple but her tone was clearly condescending to me.

Yes, as a Muslim, I did not know how to pray. Was it worth something punishing over when all I did to do was learn? Why are such behaviours punished for? This was a religious school and I was being questioned on my lack of knowledge?

From 14 until 18, I was devoid of any thought for my religion. I was embarrassed of it because I felt like I didn’t know anything about it and was therefore unworthy of mentioning or thinking about it. I avoided it like the plague. No, I did not abandon God but I abandoned all my persistence and motivation to learn.

When I was 10, I failed a maths test.

I was smarter than the school average and was sent to a smarter class but as a result, I was one of the weaker students in the particular class. I failed my maths test for the term and received 4/10 for my grade.

Everyone was rejoicing over their grades while I hid mine in embarrassment. My peers around me knew how bad I was and asked what my grade was but I refused to reveal my grade so during break time, they snuck to my desk and by the end of recess, my whole class knew my bad grade and laughed at me.

I cried on the way back to class and my teacher said minimal to nothing about the situation despite being aware of what happened.

Why am I being punished for trying my best only to fail? Why do I get laughed at for being bad at something I didn’t ask to be bad at?

When I was 12, I was in extra after school classes that my mother paid for. They were for my primary school leaving examinations and I was doing badly in maths. I was often the weakest in any maths class and this was no exception. Because of my lack of knowledge, I was rarely motivated to do any homework and to be given extra homework outside of school? This was worse.

I remember sitting in class, being asked by the teacher of how I could solve a simple fraction equation. I knew enough but I didn’t know how to solve it. I specifically admitted to the teacher that I was unable to solve it and I didn’t know.

She waited in front of the class and asked me to tell her what should be done step by step.

Even when I didn’t know the answer, I guessed. I recited off steps that I thought were familiar to the question and she didn’t write any of it down. Instead, she stared at me like I was stupid and shook her head in disbelief when I was done.

“Out of all that rubbish you’ve just told me, you could just do this and this and this.”

She proceeded to write her own answer on the board, embarrassing me further after I specifically told her that I didn’t know what to do.

Why am I being punished for trying to learn? Why are my good intentions being punished?

In my eyes, the world is against us.

Stop punishing what you want to see. Stop punishing the good intentions of the people around you.

“Look who decided to finally join us for dinner.”

“You actually finished your work?”

“How can you study so hard but still get a C grade?”

I do not think that it’s right to punish good behaviour despite how much it doesn’t match your expectations. People are trying and motivation should be given, not taken away. You should reward, not punish.

If it wasn’t for the teachers who saw my potential in secondary school, I wouldn’t be here where I am today. If it wasn’t for the teachers who inspired me to do so much better, I would have still been trying to find that lost motivation somewhere.

But not everyone is as lucky as I. I didn’t ask for my inspirational teachers but I got them. Some people beg for them but never get them. I plead to this world to stop disregarding effort for lack of skill and knowledge because we are all trying to learn something and do something.

Don’t be the one that takes it away from them.

reception to rejection

Thrice, I have been rejected by boys I sought after in my lifetime.

Rejected of the love that I desired in exchange for the affections that they might offer.

What is this in life? What is it to be rejected over and over again only to be told that it is useless, that I need to change myself?

I cannot garner such attitudes, This is the way I am, so deal with it. I am not changing myself for anyone.

But what if that one person that you so desired promised you the better life if you did change yourself? What if they promised the future of tomorrow, secured and steady in the event that our lives change?

Many of my rejections I took as an insult, a plague in my thoughts that I cast out to make myself mentally and emotionally stronger. Many times those thoughts are transformed into excuses to why I didn’t need to change.

I was my own person, and if they couldn’t deal with it then they didn’t deserve me.

Years pass.

I’m a better person emotionally and mentally. I’m strong, independent. I’m relied on a lot, grown up. I’m unique in my own ways. I handle rejection better now.

But I spent so much time depending on the expectations of other people that made me change myself that I forgot to set expectations for myself.

I no longer know what makes me happy because I spend too much time making others happy. I find it difficult to express and understand myself because I invested more time into empathizing with the people around me. I sought the approval of others that I didn’t think about whether I approved of the person that I was.

I realized that I hated myself.

I couldn’t love myself.

I was insecure of myself.

I couldn’t look in the mirror without pointing out the flaws rather than perfections.

What saved me from it?

Rejection.

I wanted to be better. I wanted to improve myself. I wanted change my lifestyle. I wanted to think ahead for my future rather than live in the now.

Now is relative, the future is planned.

Plans change but our goals remain intact. We set ourselves up with expectations, expect to compromise and keep working towards that bridge.

I got rejected by the first person I’ve ever loved but my reception to it changed.

He made me realize my potential that I never knew I had. He made me see that I was someone rather than a something.

He made me see that dreams are easier to touch if we tried.

Today, I frequent the gym to 3-4 times a week, and albeit for less than an hour because I’m still new to it, I still make the effort.

Today, I’m inspired to do so much more than the meager everyday work that we do everyday. Routines are anything but instruments of growth. What we need are lessons and challenges everyday and today, I challenge myself to do something different. Yesterday, I cooked dinner for my mother as she arrived home from work. Today, I went to the gym to work on my bum exercises when I was so shy to do it before.

Tomorrow, maybe I might work on my diet.

My love, the one who’s hurt me multiple times because he thought he was “teaching” me, he helped me to realise that life is so much more than before. I hate him for the things he said to me, such hurtful words that brought my self-esteem lower than before but in return, he wanted me to care for myself better.

He didn’t love me, but he cared for me. He couldn’t love me because I didn’t love myself. He didn’t love me because I wasn’t beautiful enough yet.

I might not be good enough for him now.

But I know that one day, I will be better than him.

And I know that I will come out stronger and better.

This is my reception to rejection.

strength of a thousand worlds

He thought I couldn’t do it.

I threatened to leave many times. I threatened to cut off all ties with him if he ever hurt me again, and every time, I couldn’t do it because I felt like I needed him. I wanted him, even if I had to watch him from afar 7000 miles away.

And many times, I would go back to him because I loved him far too much to completely cut him out of my life like he was nothing.

Even then, he relentlessly hurt me and I forgave over and over again because I wanted him to change and I wanted him to just accept my feelings for what they were instead of treating them like they were nothing more than a whim.

He thought I couldn’t do it.

One day, he hurt me again.

The next day, he apologized for the first time.

I was prepared to leave him but when he apologized, I thought that maybe, maybe he might change and this would work as after all.

We were past lovers who were trying to make it out as friends. It wasn’t going very well because of my feelings for him and because of his insensitivity to my feelings.

I told him that if he hurt me one more time, I would leave. I told him that I was his friend, not his punching bag. I wasn’t around just to let him emotionally abuse me like that. I wanted to help him because he was alone and had no one.

Or so he tried to make it out to be.

Weeks went past quickly.

He told me he was trying to date this girl and wanted a solid relationship with her.

At first, I was surprised because I didn’t know he was seeing someone, somewhat. Then, I felt upset. I had some right, because I loved him and he knew it, and didn’t hesitate to tell me about this wonderful girl he wanted to be with.

I told him I was upset even when I should be happy.

I wanted to leave him. I made the resolve to. I gave him the reasons why I wanted to, and it came down to the fact that he had used me for his own personal, selfish reasons and had allowed me to fall in love even when he didn’t want me to. I was angry that he kept seeing me even when he knew that he had to break my heart one day.

He asked me to stay.

I was the only person he trusted, he said. I never hurt him. I was the only few people who cared about him. He didn’t want to lose me over his pettiness.

But I was so angry.

He wanted me to stay, expected me to be his friend even through the hurt he caused but he told me not to expect anything out of him.

But I said I didn’t care anymore. Do anything you want, I told him.

We didn’t speak for days, until one day I thought about him again and got angry again. Every time my mind goes to him, my thoughts are clouded by this shroud of anger and madness because of how he hurt me and used me.

We fought again.

I told him everything I needed to, everything I’d been keeping inside of me for the past few months.

He threatened to leave me if I kept doing this, kept getting angry for things that happened in the past but these were things that he did to hurt me. I couldn’t forget them as easily as he could since I never hurt him.

He thought I couldn’t do it.

I threatened to leave countless of times but never did it so he threatened to leave me instead.

Then came the last straw.

“I’m going on a date with this girl this weekend. A second date.”

He knew it was my trigger point. He knew how much it upset me before and he used it again to spite me.

To make me jealous.

To shove it in my face.

It was the last straw.

I completely cut him out of my life two minutes later.

I’ve never felt so happy before. I felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders after cutting this toxic person out of my life.

He thought I couldn’t leave him.

I’m happy I did it.

This was the strength that I was given and I used all of it to leave the one I loved because he hurt me and I wasn’t going to destroy myself just to keep someone who didn’t love me enough to stop hurting me in my life.

I am prideful because I did what he thought I couldn’t.

I am thankful for the strength I garnered for the months that I couldn’t.

This was the strength of a thousand worlds.