open minded.
my mom always says
she’s open-minded.
she says it like it’s one of her best qualities,
yet also her curse.
like it proves she’s a good person.
like seeing every side of everything
makes her wiser than everyone else.
and maybe it does.
but sometimes
i feel like the only side
she can’t see
is mine.
she’ll sit me down
and explain people to me
like they’re complicated math problems.
you have to understand them.
you have to see it from their perspective.
you don’t know what they’ve been through.
and i try.
i try so hard
to understand everyone
the people who hurt me,
the people who crossed lines,
the people who say things
they shouldn’t.
because that’s what she taught me.
but the second
i react wrong
or say the wrong thing back
or get angry
or stop being patient,
suddenly i’m the problem.
suddenly
i should’ve known better.
i should’ve been kinder.
more mature.
more understanding.
it’s like everyone else
gets a whole story
a past,
a reason,
a wound
that explains why they act the way they do.
but when it’s me,
i’m just told
i should be better.
and i’m so tired of it.
i’m tired of being the one
who always has to understand.
tired of being told
to look at every angle
except the one
where i’m actually allowed
to be hurt.
sometimes i wish
just once
she’d look at me
the way she looks at everyone else
with patience.
with curiosity.
with that same voice
i can’t stand,
the one that says,
“maybe there’s a reason
they acted like that.”
because maybe
there’s a reason
i did too.
Mar 17
Mar 17, 2026 at 8:46 AM UTC
open minded.
my mom always says
she’s open-minded.
she says it like it’s one of her best qualities,
yet also her curse.
like it proves she’s a good person.
like seeing every side of everything
makes her wiser than everyone else.
and maybe it does.
but sometimes
i feel like the only side
she can’t see
is mine.
she’ll sit me down
and explain people to me
like they’re complicated math problems.
you have to understand them.
you have to see it from their perspective.
you don’t know what they’ve been through.
and i try.
i try so hard
to understand everyone
the people who hurt me,
the people who crossed lines,
the people who say things
they shouldn’t.
because that’s what she taught me.
but the second
i react wrong
or say the wrong thing back
or get angry
or stop being patient,
suddenly i’m the problem.
suddenly
i should’ve known better.
i should’ve been kinder.
more mature.
more understanding.
it’s like everyone else
gets a whole story
a past,
a reason,
a wound
that explains why they act the way they do.
but when it’s me,
i’m just told
i should be better.
and i’m so tired of it.
i’m tired of being the one
who always has to understand.
tired of being told
to look at every angle
except the one
where i’m actually allowed
to be hurt.
sometimes i wish
just once
she’d look at me
the way she looks at everyone else
with patience.
with curiosity.
with that same voice
i can’t stand,
the one that says,
“maybe there’s a reason
they acted like that.”
because maybe
there’s a reason
i did too.
hi