The Weight of Never Being Enough

A hundred times. After that, I lost count.

I lost count of how many times you've insulted me.
How many times you've disrespected me.

When I respond with that same intensity, that same energy, you always find a way to make it about yourself.

And if others saw that side of you, what would they think?

I imagine they would feel shame. Disgust.

They would struggle to recognize the person standing before them.

When you are angry, I become your enemy.

When you are sad, I become your comfort.

But when I succeed, when I grow, when the world is proud of me, you are disappointed.

When I am at my lowest, somehow the conversation always finds its way back to you.

I find that fascinating.

It's as though I will never be good enough.
Never worthy enough.
Never able to meet the standards you've created for me.

When you need me, I am there.

When you tell me I need to improve, I become more disciplined.

When you need support, I prioritize you.

When you need understanding, I offer it.

But where is that same grace in return?

When all I want is gratitude, what do I receive?

When all I want is care, what do I receive?

Nothing.

I receive the worst of you.

And somehow, you've found a way to use my deepest wounds to your advantage.

You convinced me that I was the problem.

Maybe I am flawed.

But at least I can recognize the worst parts of myself.

At least I can confront them.

At least I can change.

But is it ever enough?

I've become numb to your hostility.

I've learned to walk on eggshells, carefully choosing my words, hiding my feelings, trying to avoid becoming the target of your anger.

You have mirrored the very behaviors that once hurt me most.

And that is what frightens me.

Not knowing who you are anymore.

Not recognizing what you've become.

This anger consumes you.

It follows you everywhere.

The energy you bring into a room feels dark, heavy, overwhelming.

I do not want to engage.

I do not want to be near it.

I do not want to fear every word I say because it might trigger another escalation.

I do not want to feel as though my thoughts, feelings, and needs are somehow wrong.

I do not want to feel voiceless.

But today, I am scared.

I am scared of what this becomes if nothing changes.

All I have ever wanted is respect.

Not as a man.

Not as a partner.

Not as anything other than a human being.

You don't speak to strangers this way.

You don't speak to acquaintances this way.

You don't speak to those you claim to care about this way.

So why me?

Why am I the exception?

Why am I the one expected to endure it?

Why me?