I’m writing this thinking about the anxiety I feel from neurotic guilt when I decide to say no to something I do not want to do.

I’m writing this thinking about ex-lovers who find a way to contact me when they have had too many drinks (even though they are blocked on social media and my phone).

I’m writing this thinking about my mother who called me last week, after a year of no contact.

I’m writing this thinking about the pressure I feel to please others, and the stress I feel when I think someone is upset with me.

I’m writing this thinking about when others show a lack of respect for my time or emotional energy.

I’m writing this thinking about experiencing toxic, controlling behavior in the past.

I’m writing this thinking about the abuse I witnessed as a teenager.

I’m writing this thinking about the lies and manipulation in my past relationships.

I’m writing this thinking about rape culture, beauty myths and eating disorders embedded in the society I live in.

I’m writing this thinking about the minimization of my traumatic experiences.

I’m writing this thinking about the isolation I have put myself through to avoid getting hurt.

I’m writing this thinking about the times I have had sex to fill a void.

I’m writing this for the times when I was a doormat for people who said or did sh*tty things to me.

I’m writing this thinking about the people I did not want to have sex with, but did because I didn’t want to say no.

I’m writing this thinking about purposefully dating unavailable people, due to my fear of control and commitment in the past.

I’m writing this thinking about the stigma I have felt for having a mental health disorder.

I’m writing this thinking about the names I was called by my mother because I did not look the way she wanted me to.

I’m writing this thinking about when a former lover used to tell me she hated it when I wore make up.

I’m writing this for the bigoted things people say around me, because they assume I will not find it offensive.

I’m writing this for the teenager inside of me who swore that I would never give anyone the control in a relationship.

I’m writing this thinking about when my father exposed me to partying, sex and drugs at the age of six. He always told me he loved me though.

I’m writing this for the little girl inside of me who always knew too much for someone her age.

I’m writing this thinking about the ex-lover who harassed me for a year, and still tries to contact me every once in a while.

I’m writing this thinking about each moment that my chest tightens with anxiety—indicating that something is off or someone is crossing over into uninvited space.

I open my mouth andI simply say,

“No.”

.

Relephant Read:

She Let Go.

Author: Jennifer Money

Apprentice Editor: Carlene Kurdziel/Editor: Yoli Ramazzina

Photo: Authors Own