So I have this little problem. Well it's more like a little BIG problem. I don't know how else to describe it other than having absolutely no idea how to fix it. How can one sibling not get along with the other? That's my dilemma right now. I don't see it. As the mother of both, I just can't see it. Some people struggle with trivial things that make zero sense to me. Your sibling is your family, your blood and nothing else should mean more to you than that. In theory I guess so but in actuality sometimes family means squat. I just can't see it. Can somebody please explain this one to me?
When I was that age, you know that young innocent age, I was a child. Childhood was a good time, for me. it's a fun time. Innocence and the thoughts of everything around me not mattering much. It's the best! I was happy no matter what or where I was. I was happy just to be alive. And when I finally got to a teen, an event finally happened that made me "aware" per se, about a certain part of my life that wasn't so great. I didn't know it then but there was nothing I could do to change it. I simply became aware of it, I didn't think it mattered or at least the person who brought this awareness to me didn't matter much. So I simply learned and I moved on.
"You live here?" A "friend" I brought over to my "house" asked me as she looked around in disgust at the small room I called home.
"Yes." I wasn't sure where that question was coming from but it sure made me wonder. It didn't make me wonder for long. That was my situation and there was nothing I could do to change it, I thought. Why was she making a big deal about it? It was what it was. The end. I guess she was no friend of mine after all.
People will always judge you or criticize you no matter what. I believe people should like you for who you are, not for what you have. That just becomes an extra sometimes if you happen to have both. If you do then you are blessed. One thing is to have and another is to be grateful that you do. It's a long and lonely life when you only like people for what they have and dislike those who have less.
This is a silly thing really because things change. Things always change. The one person you dissed could end up more popular or wealthy or smarter than you. That one person you turn your back on could end up one day giving you the hand you desperately needed to get you out of your hard place. Be careful who you diss today.
Comments, looks and whispers and insults are things that have motivated me along the way of my life. I couldn't possibly have come from lower financial situation. Yes, I grew up poor. My only toys were two doll I ended up losing later in life. I walked to school almost every single day of school and had to learn a second language in a hurry or face being made fun of. I never considered myself pretty or smart or popular. On the contrary. I struggled every step of the way with every thing. Life just had a thing with me and was a bitch making it as hard as possible sometimes. That's fine. Big deal. I learned. I found a way. I changed. I became strong and stronger and eventually I morphed into who I am today. I grew up poor but I was rich as hell… on the inside.
Who I am today is who I was then only well, better. I am proud of who I have become and what I have endured and what I have overcome. Every struggle you face and succeed at becomes a new stepping stone that will lead you to a better greater life. This is what I want my children to learn. But all I have is this story, my story, which I feel means absolutely nothing to them. Nothing.
I could go on and on about what I went through and nothing will register. Or will it? Maybe one day. I just want my story to mean something to them for they are the only reason I endured what I did. I struggled so they wouldn't struggle. One day they might remember and change their ways. I'm still learning. We never stop learning. We should never stop changing for the better that's for sure. For ourselves and for those we love, the best of us is yet to come.
When I was that age, you know that young innocent age, I was a child. Childhood was a good time, for me. it's a fun time. Innocence and the thoughts of everything around me not mattering much. It's the best! I was happy no matter what or where I was. I was happy just to be alive. And when I finally got to a teen, an event finally happened that made me "aware" per se, about a certain part of my life that wasn't so great. I didn't know it then but there was nothing I could do to change it. I simply became aware of it, I didn't think it mattered or at least the person who brought this awareness to me didn't matter much. So I simply learned and I moved on.
"You live here?" A "friend" I brought over to my "house" asked me as she looked around in disgust at the small room I called home.
"Yes." I wasn't sure where that question was coming from but it sure made me wonder. It didn't make me wonder for long. That was my situation and there was nothing I could do to change it, I thought. Why was she making a big deal about it? It was what it was. The end. I guess she was no friend of mine after all.
People will always judge you or criticize you no matter what. I believe people should like you for who you are, not for what you have. That just becomes an extra sometimes if you happen to have both. If you do then you are blessed. One thing is to have and another is to be grateful that you do. It's a long and lonely life when you only like people for what they have and dislike those who have less.
This is a silly thing really because things change. Things always change. The one person you dissed could end up more popular or wealthy or smarter than you. That one person you turn your back on could end up one day giving you the hand you desperately needed to get you out of your hard place. Be careful who you diss today.
Comments, looks and whispers and insults are things that have motivated me along the way of my life. I couldn't possibly have come from lower financial situation. Yes, I grew up poor. My only toys were two doll I ended up losing later in life. I walked to school almost every single day of school and had to learn a second language in a hurry or face being made fun of. I never considered myself pretty or smart or popular. On the contrary. I struggled every step of the way with every thing. Life just had a thing with me and was a bitch making it as hard as possible sometimes. That's fine. Big deal. I learned. I found a way. I changed. I became strong and stronger and eventually I morphed into who I am today. I grew up poor but I was rich as hell… on the inside.
Who I am today is who I was then only well, better. I am proud of who I have become and what I have endured and what I have overcome. Every struggle you face and succeed at becomes a new stepping stone that will lead you to a better greater life. This is what I want my children to learn. But all I have is this story, my story, which I feel means absolutely nothing to them. Nothing.
I could go on and on about what I went through and nothing will register. Or will it? Maybe one day. I just want my story to mean something to them for they are the only reason I endured what I did. I struggled so they wouldn't struggle. One day they might remember and change their ways. I'm still learning. We never stop learning. We should never stop changing for the better that's for sure. For ourselves and for those we love, the best of us is yet to come.