The house that built me
I Was Raised. Not loved, Not cherished, Not held..just raised. Like a house built with hollow bricks, standing only because it has to, not because anyone cares if it does. I was raised to be quiet, to be small, to be the background noise in a home that only noticed me when something shattered. Oh, but I was seen. Always seen. Seen when the glass cup slipped from my hands and crashed onto the floor. Seen when my mistakes made a sound loud enough to echo through their anger. Seen when I failed, when I faltered, when I didn't meet their expectations. But never when I wanted to be seen. Never when I needed to be. I was heard too. Heard when I was too loud. When my cries were inconvenient. When I spoke words that were too big for them, when my voice trembled with something they didn’t have the patience to understand. Heard when they needed someone to blame. Always someone to blame. But never when I whispered, “I’m...