TB: "irrelevant"

Irrelevant... I was told I was irrelevant. 

What I wanted didn't matter, the screams and tears I cried were never heard. It was taken from me... Everything comes to think of it. 

My parents were only pleased when I performed well. They treated me kindly for a day and love-bombed me as a reward for my efforts and to make me accept their abuse better. I was too young, I didn't understand. I just wanted to see them smile and tell me they were proud of me. It didn't matter how many bruises I got from my training, or how lonely I felt when I needed my parents to comfort me after I got hurt... It didn't matter to me because I wanted that day spent together. I wanted to see them smile and they told me that the only way to do it was to do as I was told. What I wanted was irrelevant.

I carried it with me growing up. The time at the orphanage made it clear to me that I couldn't expect people to willingly behave kindly towards me. Everything was a transaction and If I knew how to please and flatter the others, I could breathe. I could be safe. I wouldn't have to be bullied too hard like the other orphans.  Singing was my life-saving jacket. I did it to please others and this time, I also did it for me as well. Still... What I wanted was irrelevant... I had to give them what they needed to save myself...

I carried this lesson into adulthood.  First with Tara, my narcissistic ex-girlfriend. She made me lose myself in her, made it so her wishes became mine. She made it so I became the husk of the person that I was because I had to make her happy. She ate at my self-esteem and made sure that I couldn't fully recover after her. It worked, so much so that when my second ex, Brett, appeared, I was ready for the taking. I put up with his bullshit, enabled his abuse of me, and accepted his disrespect because, at this point, he was giving me crumbs of affection and I was taking it as evidence of his love for me. He hurt me....physically, mentally, emotionally. He hurt me and I wasn't able to leave him. I couldn't because all that mattered was him. I was irrelevant. So irrelevant that he was the one who broke up with me and left me to dwell on my heartbreak. 

I carried it with me, the feeling that I was not as relevant as Sara Richardson. I carried it with me until I met you. For once I mattered. For once... I existed.  For once... I was relevant.