I Don’t Know Why I Tell My Story

The other day I got into a heated argument with a really close friend. We do this thing where we hit way below the belt and say things to each other we would never say or mean in real life. The only thing about that is, words hurt. Like, big time. We are great friends, and we shouldn’t hurt each other like we do, but we just… we do.

We’re in therapy. Not like with each other or anything, but yeah, we know it’s not healthy.

Their hurtful words to me this time were that I put my life on blast on social media to make a quick buck. The irony in this really is that when I just talk about what’s going on with me and all this craziness right now, you guys care way less than you do when Pop Tarts and Cookie Crunch have a new collab or whatever. And pageviews is how I pay the bills, so for the quick buck, I should really be hitting that slot machine over and over.

So, that begs the question, why am I telling my story? Why am I not just telling you guys all the latest in pop culture and instead have been getting back to my roots and talking about what’s going on.

I think it’s because as someone who has hidden for so long behind their weight, their social media persona, and even their blog– my words are my way of finally coming clean. Not just with you, but with myself. When I started writing on the internet I did it because I liked to write.

Then I had to make money. My kid’s dad left me with no choice, he was gone, and I was going to have to pay the bills. I still have to pay the bills. I still have to make the money, but now I get to do it in a way that helps other people.

Which, is ultimately why I keep talking about abuse, about getting strangled, and about what it feels like to get out from underneath it all.

Because every time I do, another woman messages me. Telling me her story, asking for help about how to get out, or– and this one doesn’t happen enough– that she got out and she’s okay.

That’s the thing. Once this is over. Once you get out and once it’s okay, I understand never ever wanting to talk about this again. I totally get never wanting to remember this. But then you remember the women going through it.

We can’t hide our shame because then they feel like they have to hide theirs.

And that just won’t do.