They hurt you.
Badly.
And they never apologized.
But because you’re soft-hearted, understanding, sweet (on a good day), and were taught by Sister Mary Margaret and Father Monahan that “... they know not what they do,” you forgave them.
Dear Toxic Shame:
I'm sorry, but we're through. It's not you; it's me.
Sincerely,
An Old Friend
A year ago, I wrote a post about the shame I felt over my cat scratching furniture that didn't belong to me. I was unaware of the significant damage until someone brought it to my attention.
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I’m not tweeting right now.
No wonder I fell in love with him.
I say this to myself a lot, often followed by a long, drawn-out “duhhhhhh.”
And why?
Because whenever I’m tuned out, dismissed, or disrespected by someone, I immediately recall how amazing it felt to be, well... NOT tuned out, dismissed, or disrespected. I go back in time, to those past moments when someone made me feel,,,