I don’t blame you.
I don't blame you for not being the person I need you to be. In fact, I understand. I can't be that person for you either. So, basically, we're two sides of the same coin. It's unfortunate because I really thought the older we got, the more we would understand each other. But I can't understand your needs because I'm younger than you and not a mother. You can't understand my needs because you're older, you have a family to worry about, and unfortunately a sister cannot replace the innate need for a mother. There are things I haven't told you because I feel like you won't understand. We both have some trauma and even from the same people. But the results of those traumas are slightly different, and that's why we can't properly comfort each other. I don't blame you for forgetting about me, or leaving when I was too young to understand why. You had to get out, and if the roles were reversed, I would have left too. I don't blame you for relying on me so much, since everyone else we know is super unreliable and untrustworthy. I don't blame you, but you can't blame me either. You can't blame me for needing to walk away, or for growing up and putting myself first for once. After all, you did the same thing, right?
What I miss most.
If I could search for the one thing I lost, it would be the thing I lost first.
My girlhood.
I lost it before I knew what it was; what it meant to even be a girl. I think I lost it too young. It was first taken from me when I was born, fighting for my life in the hospital. It was taken from me at five when my mother would ignore me, and my dad would punish me for simply being a little kid. It was taken from me at eight when I was abused by a family member. It was taken from me at nine when my older sister never wanted to spend time with me, or did sisterly things. I couldn't understand why she didn't want to play with me. Girlhood was taken from me when I would get made fun of for playing with Barbies and liking the color pink. So, I stopped playing with toys, started crushing on boys, and switched to the color blue. Girlhood was taken from me when I realized I couldn't keep a female friend in elementary school; I thought there was something wrong with me. Girlhood was taken from me before I reached 13 because I had to act like an adult and treat my older brother as if I was the older sister instead. Girlhood ended for me when I saw all the girls in my class looking and acting like normal teenagers, and I always felt so out of place. I saw everyone out with their friends, doing normal teenage girl activities, not me though. Girlhood ended for me when my sister had her first baby at 20. As I got older, I was treated as just an aunt and fill-in babysitter, and no longer a kid or younger sister. No longer a person. Girlhood ended when my mom only chose men above her own kids. My girlhood ceased to exist at 17 when the doctors told me I would never be able to have kids. My girlhood stopped when the depression overtook me and controlled my entire life. I guess the question is: Did I lose my girlhood, or did I ever really have it at all? I just wanted to have a normal life, be free to be a girl, in a girl-loathing world; in a girl-loathing family. I've never been able to experience real girlhood, and I've been desperate to get it back. I don't want to continue getting older and realizing that I missed out on so much. I want to find it again, and embrace it. I've been thinking a lot about girlhood recently. Does anyone know how to rediscover girlhood?