Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come”

Dear Little Sisters,

"Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come." It's kind of funny where my mind goes when I hear this line. I guess I do think about the men who threw me away like trash when I was younger. Sometimes, I used to imagine that I would bump into them somehow and they could see me with the family they never thought I would have-or deserve. They would see me as a wife and a mother and not the one-night stand, the booty call, the on-and-off-again back-up that I always was to them. I want to bump into them not because there are lingering feelings, but just so they can know that they were wrong about me. I wasn't going to be living in psych ward and I was going to be normal and happy. And, yes, you missed out suckers.

But, now that I am older, I think less about how they were wrong and more about how I was wrong. Who knows what they really thought? I'm sure they were dealing with their own issues when they were treating me like shit. It doesn't make it right but I now realize I should have focused more on developing myself than letting myself be defined by them. So now I can see that I proved my 20-something self wrong. That I could be healthy and sane. That I could love and be loved. That I could bring life into this world and not fuck them up. And I have done it for years. Is everything perfect? No. But that is okay because I approach every challenge like it is solvable now. Not like the world is ending.

Because back then my world was hanging by a thread. Every slight was a reason to drive the car incredibly fast and imagine hitting the wall or pole ahead. Every rejection was a reason to scratch my arms until they bled and left long red scars. Every disappointment was a reason why I would sit in my car hear that voice say, "Do it. End it. Now."

I recently went to the store and the girl checking out my groceries, handed me the receipt and her sleeve went up. It was filled with all kinds of cuts. I didn't have to say anything to her because there was a huge line behind me, but I wish I had. I wish I could have said that things do get better even when all you see is darkness around. Even when the pain and hatred for yourself are so much that you can only concentrate on getting through the next hour. That getting through the next hour, can become getting through the next day. That the days turn to weeks and then years. And you find yourself not feeling that pain. That the monster inside you died-not instantly-but by a million cuts of hope. I hope I get another chance to see her and tell her that she is wrong and the best is yet to come.

I know, because I lived it.

Sincerely,
Ratsiram