Meg Dowell Writes

I’ve started entires every day this week since Monday and have just given up after the first few sentences. This week has been crazy! Crazy in a good way, but still uber hectic. I learned that I’m not a failure at Spanish like I had originally thought, that I am in fact capable of excelling in English, and trigonometry isn’t THAT complicated if you pay attention hard enough.

I was searching through random documents on my computer yesterday when I had no homework. It was pretty amazing. The scary thing was, though, I found things dating all the way back to seventh grade, which scares me a little. But one thing I found really stuck out to me. It was a letter I wrote to vent to the world. I guess I saved it after I bravely posted it on Facebook. Wow…

I love who I am, and anyone who thinks that I’m anything less than I should be has no heart. Think twice before you speak. Give me a second glance before you point. Reach deep inside my heart and soul before you laugh your brains out.

Everyone is beautiful no matter what a first glance reveals. I don’t understand what people gain from making others feel awful about themselves. I see where they’re coming from, for example, when the person they point their insecure fingers at set themselves up for and deserved it. But what about the people who can’t help it, or didn’t even do anything wrong?

Being made fun of HURTS, guys. What is it going to take for people to understand that? I honestly don’t care how much better you feel after you’ve torn down someone else’s self-confidence. It never helps anyone; it only hurts. And it hurts a lot. Do you know how hard it is to pretend like it doesn’t hurt? Because it does. (Laughs) Like I would ever say to your face, “You hurt my feelings.” It would only push you to gossip more.

But just because I don’t say anything after you’ve humiliated me doesn’t mean I’m silent on the inside. In fact, I’m not silent at all. I’m screaming. I hate when you do this, when you make me feel like I’m incapable of doing things for myself. What’s ironic is that I am probably smarter than you are, because I don’t open my mouth and spit poisonous words in the faces of the innocent. The innocent don’t like to be toyed with. One day, we will find you while you are sleeping and show you how it feels to be hurt. Over. And over….and over again.

Do the words “treat others as you wish to be treated” mean nothing to you? They aren’t some old-fashioned cliche; no, they are what you should live by. I’m sorry, I simply cannot fathom what is going through your head. It stings, literally, in here. *points to heart* My heart is breaking because there is no love in yours. You can’t love yourself enough to love others, and that saddens me. But what’s worse is, you take that out on me. Others, and ME.

I have done NOTHING to you! Half the time I don’t even know you. You wouldn’t be saying those things about me or to my face (yes, to my face) if you knew me, because you would know how nice and loving and compassionate I am. No one UNDERSTANDS how it feels to be me, and because you don’t understand you don’t accept. That’s your problem, but don’t drag me into the depressing truth. Life is hard enough without you tapping into my weakest areas and taunting me. I’m not as strong as I may seem to be at times. Don’t you get it? I can’t take any more mean.

For once, think about people other than yourselves. I don’t care if I’m ugly or stupid or quiet or clueless or anything else on the outside. Take a second out of your pathetic lives and please, just look at me! Look at who I am, not what I appear to be. You aren’t being fair, or giving me a chance. You glance, you judge, you point, you laugh, you draw others to the fun, and it starts a chain reaction; all in that order. And for that I bite my lip. I don’t feel sorry for you. You choose to be like this. That’s no one”s fault but your own.

If you could just see! Oh, because believe it or not, no matter how much you tease, I can see so much more crap than you can. BELIEVE. IT. Believe that I’m not afraid to look at you and tell you how much of a jerk you are. I will stand up and tell you how horrible you are for thinking I don’t matter in this world. I matter to God. Do you think I fricking care about what you think? The only thing I care about is silently letting you know that I am a person, not useless, or unimportant, but a person that was brought to this Earth, to this place, for a reason. Get to know me now, or you’ll wish you hadn’t made fun of who I am.

Who I am is love. Who I am is someone. Remember that.

Meg

I’m sorry…did that hurt you? It hurt me, too. Believe me.

This is why I still think that everyone should keep a journal. Even if you don’t like to write, you have to have some way to get out what you’re thinking without 1) hurting other people, and 2) hurting yourself. It doesn’t even have to be good writing. Just a silent expression of whatever you feel like screaming in the face of the person that bugged you.

I feel like writing now. Thanks for the inspiration!