April 9, 2010


A lot of people claim they know a lot about being hurt. At different points in life, everyone was hurt. Badly. Lightly. Accidentally. Intentionally. Whichever it is, it doesn’t lessen the fact that you indeed, are hurt. Now, as I can’t speak for everybody else, I’m going to talk about my hurt.

sometimes i think, I didn’t have a happy childhood. That’s too bad, because you can’t have your childhood twice. You can keep the girl/boy in you alive but you can’t be a kid twice. There was only one time in your life when you could think of nothing except play. There was only one time in your life when the hardest decision you had to make was to choose which crayon to use. There was only one time in your life when your father could lift you up, let you sit on his shoulder and carry you around so effortlessly. So, if your childhood sucked, you’re pretty much fucked up.

Talking about unhappy childhood, there are hundreds of reasons. In fact, all teenagers would claim their lives suck. I agree. Teenage years are pains in the ass. You are confused, you hate your parents, you love your friends more than anybody. That is if you had any friends. And when you don’t, you blame on your weight (for girls) or your nerd side (on boys). Now I’m not saying that I’m an expert in this, but I’ve been there. A sad one.

But my hurt was not only about my vengeful teenage years. It was not only about hating myself because I was fat or stupid. My hurt comes from my strong belief of my worth. I used to believe, that I wasn’t worth anything. I almost believed I was invisible. But what made the difference was when I realized that I wasn’t. It’s so commonly heard, you thought it’s no big deal. It’s always a big deal, it’s always going to be something I would talk about and fight against. It’s part of me, the only part I wished I could change and I wished I’d never change. It’s the part that crushed me but it’s also the part that strengthens me. Am I thankful for that? Not really. A part of me still longs for the happy childhood I less experience. A part of me longs for the happiness of a young girl who could care less about the world. But another part of me knows it so well that I wouldn’t be the young woman I am today had I been that happy girl.

I still have nightmares until now. Mostly they’re about the feeling of being so helpless and scared. And after the nightmares, I would slightly return to that little terrified girl. the little me.

Now, I am an accomplished young woman. There were times I thought my days were extremely horrible I didn’t even want to go through another one. But I did go through another day. There were times I hated everyone who's hurting me so much I thought I’d never forgive myself until the day I die. But I did forgive them. I’ve conquered most of my painful past, even though the nightmares are still haunting me. I am damaged, but I survived. I healed. I lost a lot of pieces of me but I glued what I could find. I am pretty much okay, maybe much more okay than some other 23-year-olds who had a happy childhood. i’ll survive.

speaking about parents, i do thankful to Allah, i have a very great parents, awesome dad, he's an angel. great mum, the most wise woman -out from her very strong idealistic things-. anyhow, i think children should not be terrified of their own parents. Parents are supposed to be the most comforting place to go to. We should feel the safest when we lie our heads upon their chests. We should be able to expect a hug whenever we got hurt or fell down. We should not be terrified to expect a kiss whenever we succeeded in school. We should be able to go home and cry after a bad day in school without having to worry whether or not they would hit us for crying. It shouldn’t hurt to be a child. You might already know all about this, but you have no idea how this feels if you hadn’t experienced it yourself.

hurting your children and hope they’ll be strong enough to be an accomplished person later is never right. You have to raise your children right. You have to listen to what they’ve got to say. They are talking to you. They are trying to tell you something. And you have to listen to them because you are their parents. You could never, never be able to imagine how much pain they have to go through. You can lose the hatred, you can lose the bruises but the nightmares? They never go away. And trust me when it lasts a lifetime. It really is.

silentrefraction,i admire u. :)

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