Hurt

The stark and subtle impact of being beaten a lot as a child by people I loved, who I also know loved me, that I had to respect and yield to no matter what, is that I am hyper aware of all forms of violence. Even the quietest, most subtle aggressions scream loudly to me. Sadly, my trigger responses are still under construction and so I look like I’m overreacting to small things to people with different conflict styles, especially the avoidant ones or lying people pleasers. I’ve learned though, not to be scapegoated at least for these very human responses by others who don’t respond like I do. I live in my anger, boundaries, truth and indignation in real time and for as long as I need. As long as it takes to work through and get the point across. But it means I call bullshit early and have low tolerance for lies and harm, even if I too, will harm to protect myself. It can be lonely and sometimes I just wish people would throw them hands instead and keep it all the way real. Or just leave. Anything besides being told and shown violence and having it be called family, friendship or love. But people aren’t safe enough to know themselves always and stop these small kills. So I’ll just continue going off and calling it like I see it.