Loneliness

This is for the wounds I carry in my heart.

The scars that haven’t healed, the ones that still try to pull me back into the version of myself I no longer want to be —

the version I no longer am.

A victim.

To my schoolmates

You made me feel like an outsider.

You mocked me, dimmed my spark before I even knew how brightly it could burn.

To the boy I had a crush on, who used my feelings against me and turned me into a joke —

you taught me to believe I should stay invisible, that people like me would never belong in a world of wealth, ease, and confidence.

You made me question every kind gesture, built in me a belief that I wasn’t worthy of good things, of success, of belonging.

But I forgive you.

Because in my loneliness, I found my imagination.

I retreated inward and discovered who I truly am.

I dreamed of a world where I could be accepted, where I could thrive — and I made it real.

So thank you.

To the man who broke my heart three days before my birthday

You were the first one I truly opened up to.

I dropped my walls, ignored my instincts, trusted you completely.

You lit a fire in me — I rediscovered my femininity, the joy of touch, of intimacy, of being seen.

You made me feel magical… until you shattered me.

You blindsided me.

You taught me that being “too nice” meant being unlovable, that giving too much meant losing everything.

Since you, I’ve struggled to trust, to believe I’m enough.

I've tried to control everything — every move, every word — just so I’m never hurt like that again.

I’m still healing. I still don’t have all the answers.

Do I need to love myself more? Accept love as I am? Trust that I am already enough?

Maybe.

But through you, I found clarity about who I want to be, what I deserve, and the kind of love I will never settle for again.

So thank you.

To the man who promised me a new life

You asked me to marry you.

I believed in you. I stood by you for three long years, helping you rebuild your life.

But when things got good for you, I was no longer part of your plan.

You kept me waiting, hopeful for a dream that wasn’t yours to give.

But I left.

And for that, I thank you.

You taught me that I can’t rely on anyone else to save me — I must be my own savior.

And I was.

I got out. I built the life I wanted with my own two hands.

I did it.

Thank you for showing me I could.

To my family

On the outside, we looked like a well-put-together family.

But inside, it was different.

I was singled out for being darker-skinned. I was mocked — “jokingly,” they said.

My body was criticized, my voice silenced, my rebellion punished.

I grew up in a world where women were controlled, where money meant power, and appearances were everything.

But you couldn’t control me.

You gave me the fire to break free, to reject the silence, to walk away from generational trauma.

And for that, thank you.

To the man who raped me

You pretended to be a friend.

You knew I was vulnerable, broken.

And still — you violated me.

You stole something sacred from me.

You plunged me into the darkest place I’ve ever known, a place I never wish on anyone.

It took years to crawl out, to trust again, to believe in light after that kind of darkness.

So to you, I say: go to hell.

I hope one day, you face the consequences you deserve.

To my childhood friend

We grew up together.

We shared sleepovers, meals, secrets.

When I called you after that horrific night, sobbing, trembling, still trying to make sense of what had just happened to me —

you said, “Well, you went with him. What did you expect?”

Your words cut deeper than the wound itself.

I internalized the blame. I questioned my own reality.

But I forgive you.

I forgive the culture that shaped you.

You didn’t know better.

I hope life has been kind to you.

We were once friends, after all.

To my current partner

You’ve hurt me, too — but in different ways.

You reflected back the pain I was already carrying.

You triggered my wounds, but you also stayed to help me heal.

You tried. Again and again.

Our love hasn’t been perfect, but you’ve made me look in the mirror.

You’ve shown me how much healing I still need to do — and that I can do it.

Not for you.

For me.

Thank you. I love you, no matter where this journey leads us.

To my mother

I’m sorry.

I blamed you for not being the mother I saw others have.

But now I see — you did the best you could.

You were never taught how to give or receive love the way you deserved.

You grew up under pain and control, and still… you gave me all you could.

You are the kindest, most loving person I know.

I love you.

I forgive you.

Thank you for doing your best.

And lastly, to you, To you me

This one is for you.

You carried so much pain and still, you remained kind.

You didn’t become bitter. You didn’t become the villain.

You kept fighting.

You kept building.

You are still creating the life you know in your soul you deserve.

So I forgive you.

I love you.

Rise and shine, girl. You were made for it, and remember you are not a “VICTIM”

#imnotavictim #MentalHealth #Trauma #Depression

Hello, I am a lonely person who talks to myself all the time. I don’t leave the house, I remember painful and disturbing memories, and my mind imagines dark scenarios. Sometimes I do irrational things for no reason, sometimes I harm myself, and sometimes I think about suicide. I believe everything I’m going through now is because of childhood traumas. I was subjected to exploitation, harassment, rape, bullying, rejection, and racism. All these things happened to me because I was timid, kind, and innocent. I need to forget all of this, feel peace, and live my life normally. #PTSD

Hi, my name is softlibra31. I'm looking for people to connect with. Chronic illness is a lonely and isolating experience and I would love to find someone who is empathetic, kind, and willing to share their health experiences in a non judge mental space.
I’m working on healing physically and emotionally so I would like to find someone either platonic or not, to share my struggles with.
#MightyTogether #Anxiety #ChronicIllness #longcovid

Hi, my name is Myhereandnow. I'm here because for the past several months I have been remembering repressed trauma. I now remember being brutally sexually assaulted and raped several times as a 4 and 7 year old. These memories have thrown my reality for a loop. I feel like my feet have been kicked out from under me and I have struggled to cope and do daily responsibilities. I have very little capacity for my kids. I have constant panic attacks and horifying nightmares. The memories feel fragmented and foggy. I am having a hard time trusting they are real since it’s so far the childhood I thought I had. But the reaction my body is having to remembering them is so strong that it’s hard not to believe they are real. So many other fears and aversions and relationships throughout life make sense now. I have a really good therapist that I have been seeing and doing A.R.T. and EMDR therapy with. That is helping. I mostly want to talk to others that have gone through this. Was it this disorienting for you too? Do you have a hard time believing it is true? I feel crazy and dramatic and scared to tell my parents and sister about this. I remember protecting my little sister from this perpetrator, but knowing her and my parents, I think they will dismiss all of it and call me crazy. My husband is very supportive and I have told a few friends, but all of them say things like, “how sad,” “how horrible,”. Then the conversation moves on. Know one knows just how horrible it really is. It feels so lonely to hold something so heavy by myself. Does anyone have recommendations for good books or resources to learn more about what I am dealing with? I am reading “the body keeps the score” it is triggering but helpful. I would love to learn more.

#MightyTogether #PTSD #Repressed memories#Anxiety

Hi guys!
It's been quite a while being part of mighty and have learned quite a bit on how to accept my condition and managing my emotions during flare ups. I just want to know how can we be of help to each other more as a community?
Coz at times it becomes very lonely and burdensome dealing with my condition.
#lost #Fibromyalgia #lumbarlordosis #Arthritis #MultipleAutoimmuneSyndrome #Support