Growing up as a confused child is one thing, growing up as a damaged teenager is another thing. When both of these situations happen to you in one lifetime it, it ruins you.

It’s insane to think that someone can barge into your life, steal your innocence and then walk away free the next day. But you. You have to wake everyday feeling worthless. Figure out why it’s weird for you to wear a dress. Runaway from any attention. Play sports to feel strong. Hang around the boys who treat you like a little sister cause they make you feel safe. You don’t go out. If you do go out, you’re the quiet one trying not to draw any attention to you.

Eventually you grow up to be 26. Never alone, but always lonely. Loved by everyone but still scared of almost everything and anyone. You look down on yourself. You start to really like someone but you have abandonment issues so you don’t say anything. Your fear of losing friends , loved ones or anyone kicks in. So you wait for them to make a move, but they don’t. You become a sister, close friend, just a friend, You question your worth as a woman, you wonder whether anyone will ever like you. You start to find yourself unattractive, so much so that you purposefully make yourself unattractive.

You become comfortable being just a friend. Being the person that makes everyone else super happy. The girl who can kick it with the boys without sleeping around, the girl that everyone loves being around. You get comfortable with neglecting yourself.

So comfortable that when one guy gives you attention you don’t know what to do with it. When they tell you that they can see how attractive you are through all your disguises, you want to cry. When he says that he’s attracted to the way you look and your personality, you freeze. When he just says that he wants to date you, all you can do is stare.  Even though you’re scared of what he’s saying, you can’t help but feel special, beautiful, happy. You can’t help but blush and smile. Because you’ve been broken for so long. You’ve been unwanted for even longer. But somehow even though you’re still broken, someone was willing to stand back and see the picture the broken pieces made. And they like it. They like you.

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