I see your pain.
I’m small, I’m young but I still see it.
I saw how they treated you. I saw the way they yelled, the way they controlled, manipulated, used you. I’m not blind to the deep gashes they carved into you.
I also see the struggles now. The bills that pile up. The run down house we’re stuffed in.
I see the opportunities I don’t have because of finances, because of how our life worked out.
But you know what? I don’t blame you at all.
But I see that you do.
I see the way you shake your head, the small visible sign that your mind is once again beating you up.
I see the way you look at kids with family vacations, birthday parties, happy homes. I see how you gaze with a guilt that almost brings you to tears.
I see the debilitating inadequacy you feel.
You think you failed. You think you ruined me by marrying a monster. You think you ruined me by leaving. You think I hate my life because of the things I’ll never have.
But mom. Dad.
That is not at all how I see you.
I see someone who risked everything, sacrificed everything to give me hope.
I see the warrior who wakes up everyday to give me a life they wish they had.
I see strength so unfathamable, so inspirtational that you somehow muster each second of our lives.
You are my hero, in the truest form of the definition.
I know our family isn’t “typical.” But because of you we are happy.
You know what else? I don’t mind not having money. I don’t mind contributing to the family so that we can pay bills.
I am honored.
I am honored to be the one to help with money, to be the one to hold you as you cry at night.
Because you saved me.
And I will always love you for that.