You good for nothing slut. prostitute. you’ll end up living on the streets. you’ve made my life a living hell. how can you be so useless?
go die. When they say that to you, they don’t really mean it. at least not in the moment. but you’re just a 13-year-old. and you’re probably sitting in room, at first in disbelief, then in resentment, then in contemplation. wondering if what she said was “for my own good.” wondering when she asked me to go die was “for my own good” too.
then she comes rushing into your room, begging for forgiveness, and you’re stuck between letting her get away with it, or letting her know that as your own mother, she made you question your self-worth. but then again, the nagging thought in the back of your mind. maybe she was right. maybe I do need to question my existence. maybe I should just die, after all, what would a 13-year-old think? it’s “for my own good” right?
wrong. That is so wrong, on so many levels. we get it, you were mad. but when you target us, and blame all your problems on us, you play with our minds and make us believe that we are worthless, and useless, and a mere inconvenience in your life. you make us believe that, yeah, we probably should just die. you really can’t blame me for thinking that. you said it yourself. we know you didn’t mean it, but don’t think that we just let your comments slide. because they stick. for a long, long, time. they come back time and time again and make us question ourselves again and again and again. and oh yeah. might as well add this in. there’s actually a word for the endlessly tormenting comments that you target us with, unaware of the consequences and the weight of your words, that play around in our heads until we’re forced to believe them. It’s called mental and emotional abuse. and news flash, it isn’t “for our own good.”
-Saachi