(no subject)
From http://therumpus.net/2010/07/dear-sugar-the-rumpus-advice-column-44-how-you-get-unstuck/
[edited for gender referents] female version (below the cut) and male version:
I told her it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell her it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told her it would likely go on and she’d have to survive it. That she’d have to find a way within herself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it, and if she wasn’t able to do that, then her whole life would be shit, forever and ever and ever. I told her that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if she wanted to not make her mother’s life her destiny, she had to be the one to make it happen. She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she’d ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal.
M: I told him it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell him it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told him it would likely go on and he’d have to survive it. That he’d have to find a way within himself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it, and if he wasn’t able to do that, then his whole life would be shit, forever and ever and ever. I told him that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if he wanted to not make his father’s life his destiny, he had to be the one to make it happen. He had to do more than hold on. He had to reach. He had to want it more than he’d ever wanted anything. He had to grab like a drowning boy for every good thing that came his way and he had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. He had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as he could in the direction of his best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by his own desire to heal.
my comments:
I wish I'd had someone to tell me something like that when I needed to hear it. I had to figure it out on my own.
[edited for gender referents] female version (below the cut) and male version:
I told her it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell her it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told her it would likely go on and she’d have to survive it. That she’d have to find a way within herself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it, and if she wasn’t able to do that, then her whole life would be shit, forever and ever and ever. I told her that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if she wanted to not make her mother’s life her destiny, she had to be the one to make it happen. She had to do more than hold on. She had to reach. She had to want it more than she’d ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal.
M: I told him it was not okay, that it was unacceptable, that it was illegal and that I would call and report this latest, horrible thing. But I did not tell him it would stop. I did not promise that anyone would intervene. I told him it would likely go on and he’d have to survive it. That he’d have to find a way within himself to not only escape the shit, but to transcend it, and if he wasn’t able to do that, then his whole life would be shit, forever and ever and ever. I told him that escaping the shit would be hard, but that if he wanted to not make his father’s life his destiny, he had to be the one to make it happen. He had to do more than hold on. He had to reach. He had to want it more than he’d ever wanted anything. He had to grab like a drowning boy for every good thing that came his way and he had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. He had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as he could in the direction of his best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by his own desire to heal.
my comments:
I wish I'd had someone to tell me something like that when I needed to hear it. I had to figure it out on my own.