Treasure [h.s]

| 11 - Common Denominator |

I've always been a people pleaser.

Even as a young child, I made it my mission to ensure everyone else's happiness before my own. I always let my playmate pick a toy first, and take mine when they wanted it. I was never a line leader, because to be a leader means to be in control.

I never wanted to be in control of anyone, I was fine being an extra in everyone else's story. My block towers got knocked down and I thanked them because maybe I wanted to make a new one, anyway.

I wasn't taught to be like that, it's just in my nature. Adults look at children with those traits and praise the parents for having an empathetic, nurturing child. But as those kids grow up, they soak in the compliments and praise for being so kind, until they're dripping with the weight of letting others' emotions take first place to their own.

I was always picked first when other kids made groups for projects and the praise felt so good that I didn't mind doing all of the work so they didn't have to stress over it. I couldn't say no to lessening their burden, even if it made mine grow. They weren't interested in me, they just used me for my skill and even though I knew that, I let them.

Childhood people pleaser turned teenage pushover and I took care of my parents like they were my burden. I couldn't let them suffer without blaming myself for every single thing they were going through.

I spent many nights praying that God would take me and give them Dallie so their own pain could stop. I worked so hard just for them to take my earnings for drug money. And I just let them, because I couldn't handle the fighting.

I gave up my childhood for them because they were happier getting high than they were being with me. I forgave them a long time ago because even though they won't ever know it, I felt guilty that they might have felt bad for putting me through that. Something awful happened to them and I was just a reminder of it.

I found myself being thankful that they had each other, even if I was alone and scared because that meant they wouldn't have to suffer in silence like I was. I never tried to stop the beatings, he just needed an outlet and I was happy it was me instead of mom again. At least I could be of some help.

Even into my adulthood, I let people order me around and I happily take it with a smile on my face. I'm a pawn, a mere toy dangling in front of power-hungry people who know an easy target when they see one. I let it show in my work when I celebrate completing a meaningless task, happy that I could be of assistance to anyone but myself.

My needs have been on the back burner for a long time. They simmer and bubble until I can physically feel them trying to boil over until I force myself to shove them all down, not for myself, but for the sake of society. They would be so disappointed to know the daughter of two drug addicts turned out the same way.

I've got a lot of people to impress, so once again, they come first. My feelings and breakdowns get hidden away so I don't make others uncomfortable.

It's not that I necessarily like to be walked all over, but it's easier to nod in conversations and give a pretty smile rather than having to argue with someone who isn't going to listen anyway.