They’ll never understand why it sucks to be called a superhero.
They’ll never understand that being a superhero is carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders 24/7, without any super powers
They will never know that when I say “I’m fine” out loud I am screaming “I’m not surviving, I’m suffering” in my head.
They will never understand that smiling on the outside but slowly dying on the inside is not a goal I have ever set for myself.
They will never understand that I don’t want to be a superhero. That normalcy, stability and just one moment of peace are always on my dream board.
They will never truly know how idolized they are, for sticking with an unruly, ungrateful, and selfish child.
They will never understand what it’s like to love someone for two decades and find out that the love was one sided.
They will never understand what it’s like to hear ‘I don’t care’ from the one you pledged your life to.
They will never understand what it’s like to remember their parent and not want to break down sobbing
They will never know what it’s like to watch their parent starve.
They will never know what it’s like to parent a child with emotional regulation challenges and feel defeated, embarrassed and isolated.
They will never know what it’s like to feel like the village is watching you parent your child instead of helping you become a better parent.
They’ll never understand the pain and honor of walking a parent into their last breath.
They’ll never understand what it’s like to come from a place of scarcity to a place of enough but still be afraid of a life of scarcity.
One response to “They’ll Never”
Thank you for sharing your grief in such a beautiful and raw platform. This is one of the most unique and heartfelt ways to share and open the door into grief, everyday suffering, and reality that in fact time does not heal everything but instead what happens in that time is adaptation to a new reality. Thank you, Jenn