a mother who refuses to advocate and stand up for me because she’s so entrenched in patriarchy that she can’t imagine holding her son accountable
a father who taught us every day that violence, manipulation, and fear were useful tools against the ones you love
a brother who I emulated and admired, who took a piece of me that I’ll never get back, who attacked me and almost killed me, and now asks for my forgiveness and friendship
a sister who I have failed, despite my only intention being the ability to show up for her
I find myself bound to this, the repression wearing off with age as anchors disregard gravity and float to the surface, bringing with them darkness dredged from the depths
I keep wondering when I will transform into the me that isn’t defined by this, but the internet keeps repeating that the only transition I’ll ever make is from victim to survivor
I wish there was a slate to wipe clean, instead I am left human with humans, people with stories like the one written above, flawed and unsure of how to go on