Never

I am very insecure.

The beginning of my 30th year of life was marked by my mother telling me to, “have a nice life,” because she was done with me.

The beginning of my 20th year was marked by someone who I was so close with that they said God told them we would be married one day…dating another person. This shortly after my best friend saying, “sorry, I don’t think we should get coffee. We’re really different people now & I think it’s best we go our separate ways.”

The beginning of my 10th year was marked by the death of my grandmother—whom I spent 80% of my non-school time around.

So when someone says, “I’m not going anywhere,” in the realm of their relationship to my life, I tend not to believe them.

I have felt broken, wrong, incomplete, abnormal, & disposable my entire life. Whether it was my grades being not enough because I, “could do better,” or me working 80 hours a week & still not being able to keep up with my $700/month rent. My cells have absorbed the information that I am insufficient—always have been & always will be.