I wanted to make you proud.
You told me that I needed to try harder. So I did.
But you also told me that I was never good enough,
Which made me feel like my dreams weren't anything worth dreaming.
I was told, that in order for people to like me, I needed to be skinny.
I was under the impression that if I didn't measure up to your standards,
I would never be good enough for someone else.

I spent days upon days just trying to figure out that my grandmother,
was the one to try to make me somebody I couldn't be.
I spent countless months trying to understand why I was never good enough, Why I could never make her proud.
I only wanted to make you proud.
But when I was cut out of the picture with the scissors I gave you,
It made me think that maybe this wasn't what I was destined to do.
Maybe I had it all wrong.
Maybe I was looking at the wrong family tree.
If you had only known that I spent time crying by myself as I watched the words you say to me exit the wounds on my wrists like scolding lava that left more than just physical scars.
If you had only known that the only thing to save me then was a boy that you hated despite the fact that you had never met.
Maybe,  
Just maybe if you had seen the way my eyes lit up every time he said my name.
Maybe if you had felt the way I melted inside when he looked at me.
Maybe if you had felt the way I did when the butterflies wouldn't settle down every time he said he loved me.

If you had only understood, that from the beginning I only wanted to make you proud. But that wasn't ever good enough. Success was never good enough. My happiness; was never good enough.