what i didn't say

what i didn't say today

Mom, if there were any justice in the world, it would have been me first. the pain of losing time still aches. i have only ever wanted people to want me, to pay attention to me; i have only ever wanted to be special, and that was taken from me. i had hoped that there would be some healing and closure in being first. it's all tangled up inside my head--memories and agonies and teenage me not wanting to change for anyone. i sit at lunch with our family and i sit and i say nothing. i feel i have nothing to offer. 

Mom, i feel i have nothing to offer because i feel i do not belong in our home. i notice things i've not focused on before. i am 50 pounds heavier than you and my sister--and now my brother's girlfriend--and that bothers me in a way it didn't when i was young. i sit at lunch with our family and i say nothing because everyone else says something and no one offers to meet me where i am. i am afraid that the bond we have is disintegrating because the bond you have with M is stronger. you have something in common that i don't, and may not, for a long time.

Mom, we looked at our finances and we realized i can't stop working. not for a while, at least. it makes me feel inadequate because the rest of you seem so much better off. i feel ashamed of choosing careers where i support and help because they do not pay well. i feel ashamed because my siblings have done better than i. this means we cannot have children until something changes, and i feel ashamed at being controlled by this.

Mom, i know 4 couples who are expecting and numerous couples who have already had a child at my age. i struggle with my lack of desire and nurture. i struggle with comparison. i struggle with wondering if something is wrong with me for not wanting, or not wanting yet, or not being able yet. i struggle with needing to know what they have that i don't. 

Mom, i am mulling over wishes. i feel ugly and odd in our family. i feel ugly and odd and something like a bull in my body, weird and heavy and clumsy. i wish my brother would bring home a girl who he loves for what is on the inside. i wish i would not have to look at my men's shorts and oversized t shirt and compare them to the flat stomach i see under her dress. i wish i did not have to wish i cared. 

Mom, i don't say all this because i wait for an invitation to say it all. some part of me thinks you won't care, you don't care enough to ask. i think you must not know and i wish to hide it all. it's my own and i keep it to myself. what good would it do to let it out?