When I was a child, if I cried, my parents would scold me. When I got older, if I cried, I’d tell myself to s*** it up and that I was a stupid, selfish, pathetic, weak, waste of space. These days, I desperately want to cry and I want someone to find me, so I can tell them nothing is wrong.
My every tear is a weight of shame.
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It’s okay to cry. What you’re parents did wasn’t right. Things aren’t always alright, but that’s alright.