There are stories you don’t talk about. Ones that you are taught incite pity and thus, should be kept to oneself.
I had a really crappy childhood. There I said it. I broke the unwritten code.
Thing is, I also had a really happy childhood too.
Mostly, because I was completely unaware that it was crappy.
These bits. These bits make up me. They are mine and they are me. I don’t really think anyone goes through life without any scars. I think you just accept that they are there and learn to heal them with your choices.
I choose to forgive.
Now, these stories are just stories. They aren’t painful so much as reminders.
They tell me where I came from.