Love indian family indian woman

I Love My Family But They Never Made Me Feel At Home With Them

( words)
*For representational purpose only.

I can call this flat home. This place that I have rented, the one that I share with other people, basically strangers. Is it really home?

Home will always be that place where their parents live, for most people. But for me, that is never my home. Maybe because I never felt at home there, it was more of a jail for me.

The people in that home were not my home. Agreed, they did a lot for me and more, but they forgot that there was so much more than I needed. I needed them. I needed some smiles. I needed support. I needed emotions. I needed friendship. I needed some trust. I needed a home that was more than walls and a roof. They gave me a place to live, food, basic care, walls but those walls were so thick that it choked me and almost killed me. Walls that were so solid that it hurt me all the time.

Walls that were so wide that it took me a lot of time to come out of it and see the World beyond.

They loved me, oh God I know they did, but I wanted them to show it just a little. I wanted them to sit with me once in a while and smile and laugh so that I could have at least some special memories but I have none. Most of my life, I spent waiting for them to see me, even though we lived under the same roof.

I grew up just like that, waiting around to spend precious time with them.

They were so wrapped up in those walls that they couldn’t understand that I am not made for these walls. I have trust issues because I could not bring myself to even trust the ones that are supposed to love me unconditionally. I have issues now because no one ever trusted me blindly.

Now things are calm and stable but I know that it will just take a moment to topple over and crush me, all over again.

As for my brother, he is amazing. I know this, but so am I, why can’t they see it? They can trust him and the whole fucking world but not me. And the moment he says something, it is agreed upon. What about me? Don’t I matter? Doesn’t my opinion matter? But now there is no point even if you realize what you did to me because I am already broken. There are wounds that heal and with the slightest scratch, start bleeding again. There are wounds in my eyes too.

I still try to love you guys, I do love you all but I can't get over the distance that I created over the years to protect myself from getting hurt. And if in that process, I have hurt you guys then please forgive me but I had no one by my side, but myself.

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