There was no love in my childhood. Neither of my parents loved me. I was completely isolated. My mother would tell me that I was going to die alone and no one would ever love me. I wasn’t allowed to talk to my brothers. She would yell at us or give us punishments even if we were just asking about each other’s day.
Nobody loved me. My mother made sure I knew that. She told me she hated me, and if anyone ever really knew the real me, they’d hate me, too.
I’ve worked so hard to become intelligent and pretty and talented so that people would love me. And only just recently my family has started to say they love me and are proud of me.
But I’m 18 now. 18 years without love is a long time. And I’m afraid that I’ll never believe anyone who claims to love me. I’m afraid I’ll never fully love or be loved.