Why was I never enough?
All my life, I looked up to you, I wanted to be like you. But at every turn, you dismissed me. My opinions, my feelings- me as a person. It was as though I literally did not matter to you in the least.
When I was little, I knew our younger sister was your favorite, she was everyone’s favorite, all sweet and quiet. I was always loud and bratty, and even though it hurt a lot back then, I understand now why you didn’t want me around.
But when I got older, and the bratty behavior was controlled, you still didn’t want me around. And you still didn’t like me. I just wanted my older sister’s approval.
As I got even older, I was still nothing to you. You held me and our younger sister to a different standard. She could make mistakes and you still loved her. I said “hell” and it was a huge deal, and you made me feel like a terrible person. I confided in you, and in anger, you threw what I said back in my face. I bite back my own hurtful words because I try to leave the past in the past.
You made me cry for throwing my own insecurities or confessions back in my face. You made me hate myself for feeling weak, for trusting you.
I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over it, because as I write this letter you’ll never see, it brings tears to my eyes. Because even now, you don’t talk to me. You don’t have time for me.
You introduced our younger sister to a bunch of fucked up people, and it was all a-ok, and you still loved her and spent time with her. But I met one guy, I spent my time with one guy, and you spoke badly of me. You gave our sister alcohol, and it was fine. I drank alcohol, and suddenly it was the end of the world.
You put our sister in the midst of older guys, and gave her the same reputation as yourself, and it was a-ok. I hung out with one guy and gave away my virginity, and suddenly, I was the slut.
You told me “you’ll get a bad reputation” and when I said “it won’t be true because I’ve only been with one guy, and I know that, and he knows that, I don’t care what rumors people spread” you got mad. You told me something so fucked up I still laugh at it today. I’d rather have a bad reputation and have earned it, then have it be a lie.
Maybe for you, but for me, no. People gossip, people make up stories. I would rather be true to myself, then become something I’m not because someone said I was something else.
And to this day, you don’t give a damn about me. Even less than ever. Because I had sex.
Oh the double standard you hold yourself, our sister, to verses what you hold me to. You would tell me it’s because I’ve always been so strong, that when I “screw up” it’s a big deal.
No, holding me an impossible standard of perfection was wrong. Telling me to be perfect and strong alone was wrong. I understand wanting better for someone than what you yourself have…I really do understand that. But I don’t understand it when you drag another sister down with you, but then judging another for the exact same thing.
I want better for my younger sisters than what I had. But the difference is, I won’t take them down the same road as me. I want better for them, and that means encouraging them, not ignoring them, and then yelling at them for fucking up. It means I start bettering myself and giving them a better role model.
I love you, and I always will. But I hope you know I won’t take your opinions on my life into account. Your opinions won’t sway any decisions I make.
Write a letter to someone, anyone.