A guy tapped your titties when you were passing from different directions when you were 12. It enraged you, you confronted him but he made fun of you and everyone watched because it was just a flat chest you’re a little girl. So you bottled that up because to everyone it’s so lame and maybe you’re overeating. So you move on a while or maybe just put some balm in the wound by not thinking about it.
At 15 you got your menses for the first time in class and everyone in class looked at you with disgust and no one could stop talking about it for a month. The sadists even started counting your calendar cycle so they’d make fun of you in the next cycle. It’s killed you a million deaths every time you woke up to go to class again but when you said you want to switch schools your father said no.
Girl, you’re still bottling it up and that pain you feel is now turning into anger. You’re a city teenage girl who owned the world and wanted to feel like a celebrity on stage at the jazz show so you put on that pretty American skirt that exposed your thighs. They called you names so you opted for pajamas all day and quit parties.
A random guy said hello and you didn’t respond and you got insulted for that so you feel small and now your anger is breeding rage young girl. You’ve become so insecure about everything that now you can’t differentiate kindness and desire. Every man that smiles at you gets a touch of your butt cheek and now baby girl your rage has become hate. You hate you so much that you can’t even love anyone properly. You are so damaged you don’t see a way out of your shame because your childhood insecurities remain unchecked. Nobody saw beyond that tap a guy at your twelve put on your titties. Or that moment when you were called a whore by a stranger you ignored after he said hello.
So now your esteem remains in the hands of externals, you’re at the mercy of extended kindness that you ruin yourself to meet the fulfillment of those around you. It hurts you but you love the pain, chaos is all you’ve known you don’t know any other way. You’re so used to bottling up and now at 35, you remain a caged little girl at the dependence of recognition because for too long you’ve been unable to recognize yourself. You give too much to try to unleash those insecurities with verification but still, it’s tamed! You just won’t let it out even when you want to. Because young you were shoved off and scared away by people meant to protect the child!