My head gets so wrapped up in who it thinks I need to be.
In these emotions. Anger, frustration, angst. Hatred.
My body can so easily carry these emotions. I feel them all over my entire body.
No wonder doctors always ask me why I am so tense.
No one ever taught me that I didn’t have to carry what isn’t mine.
Instead, it was piled on. Layer, after layer, after critique, after critique.
I learned that maybe if I took on the pain for them, they would see me. Or value me.
But that wasn’t true.
Sometimes, I feel that I am the only target of my own hatred, and I weep.