"I know you stole this"

When I was 9, I would hang out with this girl all the time. We were the same age and our moms were the same age, so we would all hang out and go to barbecues and stuff. 

I remember one day going over to their house and overhearing my friend's mother talking about a really important necklace of hers that had gone missing. She described it in detail.

When I went to use the bathroom, I remember picking up some stuffed animal, and I saw that her necklace was right under it! I was so proud to have found it, and I knew she was going to be so happy that I found it for her. 

When I excitedly told her that I found it in the bathroom, she looked at me and said, "I know you stole this." 

I remember trying to say,  "No I actually found it... " and she just interrupted and said, "No you definitely stole this. You look like the type to steal."

I was just so upset. I thought she was going to be happy with me. 

And for some reason, 14 years later I still think about that day.

"It's the end."

My mother was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer on Father's Day 2014.

Before and still shortly after her diagnosis, I didn't know how cancer worked. I wasn't sure what the stages mean't, I only knew that stage 4 mean't the cancer was really bad.

The months after her diagnosis my family heard, "I'm sorry" and "I've been praying for you" and the like.

My mom was only given 6-9 months to live, but my mom and the rest of my family had faith that she wouldn't "give up that easy." We were very positive after getting the diagnosis and everyone knew that.

But one day, out of the blue, about three months after the diagnosis, I was at work and a woman that I was actually pretty close to outside of work said, "You understand stage 4 means your mom's dead, like it's the end."

I remember those words so vividly. Even a year and a half later, they still bring tears to my eyes.

However, my mother is still fighting her fight and has been surprising her doctors on a regular basis. So no, her diagnosis wasn't the end.

"Learn how to deal with this"

I sent my husband an article about the eating disorder I currently struggle with, thinking he might find it insightful.

We were supposed to go to take my son to see a movie that day and I asked my husband if he was almost ready to go. 

He said he couldn't go anymore because he now had to read the article I sent him so he can "learn how to deal with this," while making a hand motion towards me.

"You smell musty"

My mom got heavily involved in drugs when I was growing up, and I often had to fend for myself.

When I was in 9th grade, she took off and left for 3 weeks while I was at school one day. I was home alone for that time. The power and my cell phone got shut off during that time. I didn't tell anyone, I just kept going to school. I thought I was doing okay on my own until one of my friends told me I smelled musty. I wore wet clothes to school because I couldn't dry them.

It was the first time that I realized that it was obvious I wasn't put together. The guidance counselor pulled me into the office and asked me where my parents were and why I was losing weight. I couldn't tell anyone that I ran out of food and my mom left me no money.

I am grown now with a family of my own, but I still think back to that day. I know my son will never have to endure those feelings, but I can't help but feel terrified that there's a chance.

Lesson learned.

I was raped and forced to tell my mom.

Her response:

"Well I hope you learned your lesson."

That response screwed me up almost as bad as the rape itself.

"Not the singer of the family"

My dad once bitterly told me that I'm "Not the singer of the family," right after I sang in a talent show.

It's horrifying that my own father believes that my elder sister is the only one who is allowed to follow her dreams.

Laying on your back

When I was 13, I moved in with my dad and stepmom.

My stepmom hated me with a passion, and I can remember her looking at me one day and saying, "The only thing you will ever be good for is laying on your back."

To this day I still have a problem being intimate with someone.

"The family whore"

About a month ago I went out to dinner with my mom, brother, grandparents and my grandma's best friend and her husband. I was feeling pretty confident, so I wore a crop top that I thought was cute. When I came out in it, my mom didn't say a thing.

We got to the restaurant and as soon as we sat down my grandpa looked at my mom and said, "That's a little bit inappropriate for your daughter to be wearing, don't you think? I mean we wouldn't want anyone to classify her as the family whore, now would we?"

Instead of defending me, my grandma looked over and said, "A girl her size shouldn't wear such revealing clothes anyway."

I'm 5'6 and 130lbs, but my grandma was never over 100lbs until she was in her 50s, so I'm not up to what she sees as thin.

They didn't mean to hurt me, but I haven't forgotten it.

Every time I pick out something to wear, I think about what they said.

"YOU killed my grandson."

The first of many choice things your grandmother had to say to me after finding your note and your body.

We were together for three years and I loved you as much as my body and soul could. I poured every bit of who I am into out relationship because it was the best damn thing that I had. I had plans to spend my life with you.

You left me a note specifically for me and me alone. So you can only imagine what kind of things your family had to say about me.

We just recently moved past this, but I don't think your grandmother will ever understand how much that affected me.

Because for the longest time, I truly believed that it was my fault.

Eyebrows.

When I was 13, my mom took me to the department store to buy makeup for the very first time. I was excited and nervous. 

The lady at the counter offered to test some out on me before we purchased anything. She did a whole makeover and I felt good!

But right as she was wrapping up, she turned to my mom and told her that she might want to start tweezing or waxing my eyebrows and the hair between them.

That's what that stuck with me.

15 years later, I'm still insecure about my eyebrows and the small amount of blonde hair that sometimes grows between them.