My Childhood Relationship

Simply put, it was tragic.

Neglect. Ignorance. Bullying. Violence. Harassment. Abuse. Abandonment. Poverty. Inferiority. Separation. Scars. Depression. Devalued. Unloved.

Writing this down, I felt a wave of realization wash over me. It took me decades to grasp how horrifying my childhood truly was.

Lord, it was too much, wasn’t it? It is too much. The saddest part? I never fully acknowledged it until now—until I put it into words.

No wonder I am so broken yet fight so hard to be strong.

No wonder I am extremely sensitive to rejection.

No wonder I’ve been in repeated toxic relationships, holding on too long, craving love so deeply that I overlook the pain—until it happens again.

No wonder I am crying as I write this.

No wonder I feel so much sorrow for myself—yet, for the first time, I also feel love for myself.

This is another moment of self-reflection in the midst of my struggle, a moment of awakening. I am trying to step out of a space that I once called a comfort zone, though in reality, it has been nothing but an emotionally torturous zone. I am seeking freedom, the life I deserve. Yet, I am terrified of failing.

My left foot moves forward, but my right foot freezes. What if this is the wrong step?

But deep down, I know—I have known for so long. I have been stuck. My fear held me captive. Because I grew up poor, and financial security became my chain. Every time I’ve had the urge to resist, a small act of kindness, a fleeting gift, a moment of warmth has pulled me back in, making me forget my plans, ignore the red flags, and convince myself that if I change just a little more, maybe things will be okay.

If only I speak a little less.

If only I try a little harder.

If only I am a bit more compliant.

If only I am less opinionated.

If only I try to be a better friend and partner.

If only I am less demanding.

If only, if only, if only...

Each “if only” stacked on top of the other until they formed a version of me that barely looked like myself—quieter, softer, smaller. I thought maybe, just maybe, shrinking would make me easier to love.

But what about me?

For so long, I’ve been trapped. What if I leave and struggle again? What if I can’t afford a good place? What if, what if, what if...

Until I realized, in doing so, I have silenced my own needs. I have ignored my dignity, my emotional well-being, and my life.

A Conversation to Myself

But my inner voice refuses to be quiet.

I know I can do more. I know I have more to offer—to myself, to this world. I have not yet lived up to my potential. I have settled for survival, but I want to thrive.

Lyda, trust us.

This is not the life you were meant to live. This is not the life that will fulfill you.

Look at our mother. Look at how she left, the same way you are planning to—out of fear. And while it is hard to forgive, it is also hard to blame.

But you? You are capable of more.

You will find that six-figure job.

You will be the sister who takes her family on trips to places.

You will be the aunt that your nephew loves and respects, who comes to you for wisdom.

You will be the woman who stands tall, strong, and capable—who lifts others up.

You will be the woman with the financial freedom to move, to travel, to buy without fear.

You will be the woman who walks away from toxic relationships—because she knows her worth.

You will meet someone who loves, respects, and cherishes you in a way you never have to question.

You are the professional who walks into any room with confidence and keeps growing.

You are the woman who never forgets where she came from—who gives back, not out of obligation, but out of understanding.

Lyda, you can do this.

And we will do it together.

I love you.

I will never stop loving you.