Fuck Guilt

I wish somebody had told me when I was little “People are going to disappoint you. They will shit on you given the chance. Even your family. You’ve got to always have your own back. Stick with the ones who stink the least.”

I was always so naive. So virginal. Always looking for the best in people. Always sympathizing with assholes who were using me as a toilet. I mean, there has to be a reason WHY they’re such a shitty person, right? Of course I have known some genuinely nice people in this world, but once I was let loose at 18, whoa! My head was way underwater. I would never raise a child in the church. Being raised a Presbyterian did not prepare me for the real world. It taught me to turn the other cheek in order to let some asshole slap the other side.

Now I DO get the concept of turning the other cheek in terms of picking your battles and walking away for one’s own good rather than getting into a fight. I get that.

I am usually kind to others, and I still don’t speak up enough when I’m being bothered by someone. I guess it’s a choice of whether I really need some asshole to like me or not. I am generally non-confrontational. You have to really piss me off to get me to fight with you.

My nephew, all he wanted to do was fight with me. I will never allow him to live with me again. He stole from me, lied to me, stood over me screaming in a threatening manner, called me all sorts of names. Sorry, but I’ve already made good with my mother for my behavior towards her in the past. We get along like peaches n’ cream now. I don’t feel guilty anymore. I was wrong and she was wrong and we abused each other equally. I don’t need the universe sending Mr. Asshole Singh to give me a karmic lesson. If I don’t see him for another ten years it will be ten years too soon.

Three things about me:
1. You don’t hurt my mother.
2. You don’t hurt my pets.
3. You don’t hurt me.

I threw two people’s things out. As a consequence, I threw my own stuff out on multiple occasions. I even burned my Baby Book. There are barely any pictures of me left. I will never feel guilty about what I had to do ever again, and if anybody tries to make me, I will let them simmer in the stench of their own farts.

I sacrificed my perfume collection. I sacrificed my giant cluster of quartz crystal. My jewelry, my shoes, my books, my clothes, my keepsakes, the last things that my father ever gave to me, Everything. For a couple of people who aren’t even worth the soot beneath my feet. Guilt? Fuck it. Been there, done that. Next!

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