Currently listening to: Lighters – Bad Meets Evil feat. Bruno Mars
I would be lying if I said this horoscope didn’t trigger me. And just like that, I was immediately transported to that one night.
Why did he have to ruin a perfectly good evening?
He said I was too rough around the edges—that I needed polishing, to be more refined. Did he not realize how hard I had fought just to get to where I am? Women don’t have it nearly as easy as men, and being a minority only makes it harder. I knew he had lived more life than me—he was much older—but still…
My heart sank. I wanted him to love me. I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted him to be happy with who I was. I didn’t want to feel like I wasn’t enough, like I was inadequate—like I wasn’t on his level.
At first, I was upset. I may or may not have made a spicy comment back, but as his words settled into my core memory, the hurt set in. My whole life, I’ve been told to do more, be more—to be number one because if you’re not, you’re a fucking loser.
I didn’t want to be a loser. I didn’t want to feel like this. But I could feel myself slowly detaching from him, even though I didn’t want to. My walls were coming up—a defense mechanism I knew all too well.
I needed support, not a lecture. I needed reassurance, not criticism. Why couldn’t he see that? I looked up to him, literally and figuratively since he was 6’4″. I admired the way he carried himself—so confident, fashionable, and knowledgeable.
And yet, with just a few words, he made me feel like a naïve, small-town girl from the Midwest, stumbling through a world I didn’t quite belong in.
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