Noel Rivers-Schutte
Seton Hall Law​

In 1977, the Supreme Court of Washington ruled that in a self-defense case, a woman is entitled to have the jury consider her actions from her perception.
1 in 4 American women will likely experience domestic violence in their lifetime.
Noel Rivers-Schutte
Seton Hall Law
 
Battered woman syndrome. Not included in the DSM, but still a very real pattern of symptoms and behaviours that have been attributed to persistent violence from their male intimate partner(s). In some cases, this can result in a lethal dose of temporary insanity wherein the female victim may retaliate against her abuser. Of course I am paraphrasing my own understanding as it pertains to relevant case exploration. Although I stand by the assertion that there is a clear double standard between the sexes that has been created and fortified by a patriarchal entity, the last quarter of a century has brought some undeniable social progress. Twenty five years ago, society denied that sex workers can be raped altogether – today, women/femmes are still dismissed and derided for the actions of the men in their lives. So, yes, things have improved to a point. Female adults can now own property, and have their own bank accounts and credit cards. However, we’ve also obviously backtracked on reproductive rights and such. This isn’t about women’s rights, though I am certain that the patriarchy has played a role in the skewed perceptions of women who kill their husband(s). Of course not all women who kill their husband(s) are genuine in their claims, as criminals are notoriously dishonest. Betty Lou Beets is just such a controversial case.
Born Betty Lou Dunevant of Roxboro, North Carolina, in 1937. Sources say Betty had a considerably rough childhood, with hearing loss due to the measles at three and allegations of sexual abuse that is alleged to have started when she was the tender age of five years old. There are no medical or police records to support these claims. However, it is documented that her mother was committed to a mental hospital for length(s) of time, leaving her to take on a caregiver role to her younger siblings at the young age of twelve. At the age of fifteen, Betty married her first husband, Robert Franklin Branson.
Now, up to this point in Betty’s life, 1952, I’ve not found any documentation of intellectual capacity or physical abuse resulting in head trauma. However, various documents citing her trial and appeals noted that she had a learning disability and traumatic brain injury(ies). Accounts of their seventeen years long relationship vary ever so slightly, but what is clear that at some point Robert and Betty dissolved their relationship and Betty claimed Robert had abused her. They remained estranged, but they rekindled their relationship after Betty attempted to take her own life. In 1969, this presumably tumultuous relationship, which bore five children, came to an end. By the following year, Betty married her second husband for the first time.
Billy York Lane married Betty in 1970 and, again, in 1972. During her marriage(s) to her second husband, as we see our first documented signs of an escalating cycle of abuse. Their relationship was short-lived, with a perilous end. Charges were against Betty, when she shot Billy in the back. Those charges were subsequently dropped, after Billy confessed to initiating the violence and breaking her nose. Shortly thereafter, in 1973, Betty began dating her third husband, Ronnie Threlkold.
Betty’s relationship with Ronnie lasted a bit longer, but their marriage followed the volatile pattern we see when we look at her previous marriages. I did not uncover any documentation of abuse cited for this relationship, and admittedly, I didn’t dig very deep. However, I feel my experience with abuse/trauma cycles affords me some room to speculate on potential filler for the gaps and inconsistency in evidence of abuse.
Before we get too far, I would like to clarify that I will not be making any claims or allegations of abuse in the case of Betty Lou Beets. I am in no way an expert on Betty, but my combined experience provides some perspective on the subject matter that was Betty Lou Beets. With that, I would like to offer the possibility that Ronnie led a bit of a double life. There is a nuanced understanding of abuse(rs) that exists now that has changed the way we see marital dynamics of the past. When Betty began dating Ronnie in 1973, women could not get a bank account or credit card in their own name. This changed the following year, in 1974, but by then Betty would likely have been invested or even trapped in her commitment to Ronnie.
Abusers don’t enter into a relationship overtly controlling or physically aggressive. This goes without saying I should think. If the disingenuous opinions I’ve observed have taught me anything, it’s that far too many people condemn survivors of abuse:
“Why didn’t you just leave?”
“Maybe you should have picked better”
“Not all men…”
I will acknowledge that many of those who participate in victim-blaming do so indirectly and without malice. Unfortunately, that does little to counter the ingrained social construction designed by patriarchy to subjugate and oppress anyone who does not align with the views of the ruling class. The intricacies of an abusive dynamic rarely occur to those fortunate enough to never experience abuse. Combined with social and legal biases of the time, the documented allegations of abuse throughout Betty’s life may serve as evidence of a cycle of potentially traumatic events.
Near the end of her marriage to Ronnie, Betty ran over Ronnie with the car and they subsequently divorced in 1979. Betty married her fourth husband, Doyle W. Barker, later that same year.  This is where things start to turn for the worse. Sources cite documented domestic violence throughout Ronnie’s previous marriages, as well they show Betty’s son recall his own account of the abuse his mother withstood at the hands of Ronnie. In April of 1980, Betty miraculously survived severe head trauma and bodily injuries sustained in a near -fatal car accident. Not many details were given about the accident it’s, though her injuries are documented in detail. Barker continued to assault Betty, disregarding her broken body and permanent brain damage. At some point after her injuries should have healed, Doyle went missing. I’m sure those who knew Betty best suspected that his disappearance may have been linked to her bruised and swollen face, their concern was for Betty. Over the next few years, Betty turned to alcohol and amphetamine-effects of diet pills. This combination may have led to her psychotic episodes during this time, and in 1982, she met and married her fifth husband, Jimmy Don Beets.
Betty’s relationship with Jimmy Don was short-lived, and I am as yet unsure if overt abuse was present when he disappeared in August of 1983. Sometime shortly thereafter, Jimmy Don’s boat was found capsized on Lake Athens leading authorities to assume he had been lost in a fishing accident. Between his disappearance in 1983 and when his remains were found in 1985, Betty had shot Jimmy Don in the head with a .38 caliber handgun and, with the help of her (son?), buried him in her backyard alongside her fourth husband, Doyle. At no point did she make any attempt to collect insurance or a life insurance policy, yet she committed murder, allegedly for those payouts.
The question is not so much whether she had killed two of her husbands, rather this is about what motivated her to kill. According the all-male jury “of her peers”, prosecution, and court of public opinion, Betty Lou Beets is a Black Widow who killed her husbands for insurance money and sheer malice. Her defense attorney, coerced Betty into signing all of her literary and media rights to his underage son by promising he would testify to the point that she had never pursued insurance policy payouts. I assert that is was coercion; I find I difficult to believe, even at a stretch, that a defense attorney didn’t know he couldn’t be both defense representation and witness. E. Ray Andrews had written into his contract with Betty Lou Beets that he would testify on her behalf that while she pursued a fire insurance claim, she never pursued life insurance policy payouts for either of her deceased husbands. Which is rich, considering the prosecution’s singular focus was that she murdered them for their life insurance and pension. Instead of finding her adequate counsel and acting as her witness, which may well have swayed the jury, Andrews satisfied his own self -interest and forewent acting as her witness.
After the trial ended, and Betty was sentenced to death, E. Ray Andrews's career skyrocketed. He went on to be elected District Attorney of the same jurisdiction that tried Betty, and, later, plead guilty to accepting a substantial bribe to fix a murder case. He was sentenced by the same judge who presided over Betty’s post-conviction appeal, but as poetically just that may be, it is not the end of political intersections with politics. Although she was sentenced to death row in 1985, Betty wasn’t executed until 2000, fifteen years later—an election year.
Some sources suggest that, in an attempt to appear tough on crime, Republican candidate and Texas governor George W. Bush presided over one hundred and twelve executions; one of which was a woman, Betty Lou Beets. A woman who declined her final meal and made no final statement. A woman whose entire family left her alone in her final moments, including the two that had helped her bury the bodies. Doyle's son was present, though he was there for closure; rightfully so. His perception fueled the media fire that painted an obviously battered woman as a black widow. Now, I’m not in anyway diagnosing Betty Lou Beets with anything, nor am I condoning her actions. However, I also cannot help but empathize with her plighted existence. 

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To learn more about Betty Lou Beets, check out:
 
Buried Memories
https://a.co/d/0b7A2xh
 
Memories of an Execution
https://scholarship.law.umn.edu/lawineq/vol20/iss1/4/?utm_source=scholarship.law.umn.edu%2Flawineq%2Fvol20%2Fiss1%2F4&utm_medium=PDF&utm_campaign=PDFCoverPages
 
Alcatraz East Crime Library
https://www.alcatrazeast.com/crime-library/famous-murders/betty-lou-beets/

I held your daughter as she wept for you today. Not beside your deathbed or next to your grave, she didn’t cling to your picture but she is in mourning. She mourns the words of wisdom her heart aches to hear but she’s never heard you say, the loss of a blissful ignorance and hope. Her heart breaks every time you show her that you were never made to be the mother she so desperately needs, that you don’t have the grit and resolve to become that mother. I held her as she wept and I affirmed all her wildest dreams, except one; I won’t lie to her and allow her to hope that you will ever be half the woman she is already. A child, barely sixteen, and she is more self-aware and emotionally developed than you; her own mother. I have heard you utter the one word you are not capable of grasping the gravity of, and she believed you. She wants to believe you still; a part of her will always want to believe, that you’ve changed, that you understand, that you love her. With time and resilience, she will accept the truth and she will persevere despite you; or to spite you, either way, she will win. The truth is that without you, she really can’t lose. Sure, you’ve done your best, and it wasn’t easy for either; especially not “raising” such a high-spirited daughter, who just won’t submit. But then, that’s the real issue though, isn’t it?
To be fair, my perspective of your situation is purely vicariously. I’ve not walked in your shoes, I’ve not borne any children. What I have done is hear your daughter tell you exactly the kind of support she needs from you and I watched her crumble in defeat when you weaponized your incompetence; when you asked her to dissect her needs further and come back to you with clear instructions. I have held her, validated her, and I’ve celebrated with her. She’s come to me for guidance, and accepted advice as it fit her needs. I have watched her grow and position herself for success and emotional well-being. And I have watched her do this all best, without you.
You’ve called, of course. You’ve apologized, again; we all know a true apology is more than the mere words you’ve managed to offer. Don’t forget you also blamed her for your lack of emotional regulation and self-control, when you put your hands on her. She ran, of course, to somewhere safe…and then she used their phone to get back to us, where she feels safe. Imagine that, if you can swallow your pride long enough to see the issue. Your daughter feels safer with people who are essentially strangers, who owe her nothing—who aren’t you. You are the last person on this planet, in this universe or any other, that should ever make her feel unsafe. Especially when she is so vulnerable, and especially when she expresses rage and resentment that you have well earned. Instead, you chose to be the first; if she let you, you would continue to tear her down until she bent to your will…or she died fighting to find release from your grip. Nevermind that you are not worthy to carry the title of mother, you can’t even bring yourself to make an honest effort to put the work in and earn her respect and loyalty. No, you’d rather gaslight and invalidate and dismiss—exploit. You’d rather make her feel small so you don’t feel so alone in your misery.
I held your daughter today, like the child that she is, telling her all of the dreams she’s ever had for herself are real…and validating her choice to remove you from the equation. That’s a powerful voice you are now competing against; not because it’s mine, but because it soothes the burning rage and betrayal, and resentment that you have made her feel. Before you defend your struggles and your obstacles, remember that you chose to be a mother. Perhaps before you chose to assume responsibility for nurturing and guiding the safety and well-being of another human being you should have considered identifying and healing your own wounds. Maybe even develop your emotional intelligence beyond that of a wounded teenager. I’m sure you are used to people siding and empathizing with you, and I’m sure the concept of criticism of your position is foreign. Might I suggest introspection, therapy, and healthier associates?
The thing is, your problems are only my problems as much as they pertain to your daughter; and she’s going to be just fine, without you. She is bright, empathetic, self-aware, with a growth mindset and the dream of being a good mom and committed wife to a loving husband—none of which you have ever been an example. At this point, you are probably assuming that I carry some sort of hatred toward you. I will admit that the pain and abandonment you’ve left your daughter to feel, without you…because of you. Sure, she is crying now and she feels lost and confused, but she’s putting that hurt and anger and energy into healing. I don’t expect you to understand, and I don’t expect you to acknowledge that her happiness will never be yours to share, but, at some point, you will have to accept it. 



Thanks for reading!

Where to Begin
In my line of work, spirituality is a common topic of conversation. When dealing with trauma, it can be difficult to know where to turn or whom to trust and it can become debilitating learning to identify red flags of manipulation and genuine empathy. When you grow up being told that the people who are hurting you love you and want what’s best for you, those red flags become impossible to see. During the healing journey, an individual steps into their light and begins to see the blinders and identify errors in thinking that have perpetuated unhealthy patterns. This new perspective of their life and of their being, while promising and full of limitless potential, is terrifying. A new sense of vulnerability overwhelms the vulnerability they’ve known, and it’s that newness that is so intimidating. There is a strange comfort that exists in even the most toxic of familiar spaces. The demons you know become safer than the angels you cannot be certain exist. Looking into an uncharted and boundless future has a way of emphasizing how small some may feel, after trauma, yes, of course, but also as a symptom of shyness. The world seems so big when you feel so painfully small – and considering the notions of some omnipotent parental being having watched it all happen without interference sows trust issues on a whole new level.
One could argue that there are extreme denominations of any religion that may result in religious trauma, and they would of course be correct. There will forever be outlier extremists that ruin the reputation of congregations and pervert the tenets on which the faith is founded.

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If the Shoe Fits, Wear It
Although it is never my intention to be sacrilegious, I’ve also been told that I can be abrasive and opinionated—were I apt to value the opinions of people that aren’t feeding, fucking, or financing me, I may be offended; humorously, those tone policing and ridiculing my communication skills are infrequently doing any of those things. With that being said, I would like to explore a ‘shower thought’ I had recently regarding the sensitive subject of religion and while I will be candid, please know that this is not meant to provide anything more than thought. But if I do happen to hurt your feelings…look inward. Often times when something offends us it’s because we see an undesirable reflection of ourselves in the statement. As much as we would like to deny it, truly looking at ourselves through an unfiltered lens is much easier said than done. We take things personally and internalize the projections of those who wish only to see us succeed less than them.
To be perfectly honest, I could probably write this entire essay in vague examples delivered in a passive-aggressive (if not elegant) tone without ever once mentioning specific examples. Could; perhaps. However, I see no good reason to pussyfoot around reality. In the Western world, there are simply too few logical conclusions to be made regardless of how vague and passive the delivery is. Also, I loathe social etiquette that requires blurring the lines of personal integrity or walking on eggshells. I much prefer respectfully direct exchanges; they make for more productive interactions and reduce the social exhaustion I experience with prolonged exposure. Unfortunately, mutually respectful, and direct exchanges are far too rare. So, while I could put in the extra effort to navigate the sensitive constitution of every Tom, Dick, and Karen who would rather center themselves and fixate on how my words located a sore spot…I won’t be.


Geographic Prominence
In the Western world, Christianity has a checkered reputation no matter, which way you twist it. As I’m sure you’ve inferred by now, it will be one of the primary (and generalized) references made moving forward, and yes, it will be from an outsider’s perspective. However,  that does not mean that there is some underlying malice for the core theological philosophy. On the contrary, I very much value the moral virtues that guide followers in their spiritual relationship with their chosen deity. However, the path I walk runs parallel and, therefore, offers an objective perspective founded on experience and moral inventory.
The agency I work for is affiliated with the Lutheran church, so much so that we have a chapel on campus with service every Sunday and the pastor is available most days. Chapel is optional but encouraged on Sundays, and there are grief and other spiritual groups available as well. We have some kids who ask to go, but we have a fair amount of them who recoil at the mention of it.


No Hate Like Christian Love
As a non-Christian, I have become a bit of a safe space for those questioning their faith or spiritual path, for adults and adolescents alike. I’ve also had the pleasure of befriending one of the truest Christians I’ve ever known, with whom I have some of the most respectful theological conversations. My relationship with them, and others like them, is offered as evidence that what I am about to say is not meant to negate a genuine relationship with their higher power. (Because I’m about to get a little critical.)
The saying there’s no hate like Christian love is well known among non-Christians. For those unaware, the phrase more or less notes the irony and solicitation of the word. What kind of parent punishes their child(ren) to an eternity of damnation for adultery, but stands back and allows genocide? Not a good one. So, why would it be okay for a god?


Moral Compass Calibration
In 1992, Sinead O’Connor ripped up a picture of the pope during her SNL performance, and her career in America was over. Later, her message rang clear and now resonates everywhere. That “stunt” was a demonstration of protest against the Catholic church for protecting pedophile priests, clergy, and congregation members. Sadly, she’s no longer here for anyone to issue a formal apology that she wouldn’t even want because she understood that people were not ready to receive the message she delivered. She and the victims that continue to be dismissed and blamed for the actions of men in authority deserve reparations of some kind, but I digress.
There is an overwhelming amount of Christians who, when asked why do we need (your) god?, will respond with he teaches us right from wrong. Okay, I’ll bite – what exactly does the Christian god teach us? The lessons I learned from him were authoritative, controlling, wrought with double standards, demeaning – I’ve found him to be quite the contrarian. His son teaches us something healthier, at least: be kind, be generous, be modest, be honest. I can get behind these lessons and I think any empathetic person inherently embodies these tenets as a baseline, even if the expression varies. So, do we need Jesus to tell us to not be a dick and his big bad sky daddy to threaten eternal damnation if we break the rules? I’m just gonna say it. If you need the threat of eternal damnation to not rape, murder, steal, or beat your wife and kids (which is still actually condoned in some sects of the religion), are you actually a good person?
Think about it.


Religion is for Those Who Fear Hell
I have said that I am non-Christian, but I haven’t elaborated.  Non-Christian is not anti-Christian; if Christianity guides you and helps you evolve into a healthier and more empathetic person, nothing I have to say should ever shake your faith. I simply feel that gluing oneself to religion is based on so little introspective exploration when things are offensive.
Religion is a philosophy by which humans can relate and build a spiritual connection to their creation and demise. Some build that connection through the word of Jesus Christ, some say Brahma is the creator of the universe some remain loyal to Odin, and still others believe in a spaghetti monster, the list continues. Those are only the more well-known references. There are legitimately thousands of religions many of which are significantly older than Jesus, as described in the King James Version (as that is the more commonly referenced edition, in my experience). Regardless, most, if not all, religions are founded on the same general core values. It isn’t until we look at the commandments/laws or practices within each religion that we begin to see real differences. Truth be told, the Christian church stole many of their practices from Pagans as a means to convert “heathens” and “savages” and control and oppress free-spirited women (but, I again digress).
When the debate is semantics, what are we fighting about? Eve did not consume the fruit of the tree of knowledge for nothing. It is entirely possible to build your connection to creation and destruction as you see fit, and let others do the same without impeding on their peace. 


Thanks for reading!

Okay, maybe not all, but an overwhelming number of them would undoubtedly benefit from a Hostel type dark-web service. Think about it. How many people go missing, and how many murder cases run cold? Sure, murder is rare from a grand scheme perspective. By the same logic, so are sexual assault and child abuse. That doesn’t negate the impact of such crimes, especially when you add them all together. Sometimes, they run together into society and get swept under the rug as exaggerations or anecdotal evidence because general awareness is below par. If my criminal justice and psychology classes have taught me anything, the most unexpected people are likely to be questionable. Red flag behaviour is deeply ingrained into our society. So much so that even the most innocuous comments can carry legitimately lethal consequences.
That’s not to say most people are criminals or psychopaths.Still, many more align with the spectrum than most people think. And those same people always like to argue, negating the experience or research being presented to them. Most parents are terrified of losing their children to a stranger in public and don’t think twice about leaving them with a relative of questionable moral direction. Truth be told, most abductions, rapes, and murders are committed by someone we know. Someone we think we know…
Right about now, someone reading this is wondering if I plan to cite my sources. I do not. You have access to the same internet as I do — same search engines, same questions I started with. So, I’m gonna tell you what my family told me when I was growing up a curious little cat: go look it up. I am not here to teach you how to learn things. If you question what I have to say here, dig for yourself — feel free to come back and share what you find; we can speculate together. Because honestly, at the end of the day, no one had a correct answer. We only have the information available to us — what I wouldn’t give for the FBI to provide me with uninhibited access to their vault! — which is gatekept like anything else.
Back to the original point. Why do we not talk about this possibility more often? Social media these days is riddled with people posting predatory garbage and viewers turning them into the authorities. Every time I scroll through TikTok in particular, there is another example from a local newspaper site crime bulletin tied to another user account. I’m not mad about it. Please do your part and help get these people off the internet — that only leaves the smart ones.
People seem to think all criminals are dumb, and the truth is that we can only say that about the criminals that get caught.What of the ones we don’t identify? What of the ones that placate their inner demons with surface manipulations and narcissistic abuse tactics, or the ones that hide in plain sight behind their spouse and community status? Why are we not vetting our board members with the inclusion of extensive psychological evaluations in tandem with their background checks? Are we that trusting, or do we not understand the potential for a manipulative person to fool everyone around them?
Predators rely on their ability to blend in with their chosen community almost as much as their manipulation tactics.These people weave in enough truth to maintain believability, making it all too easy for those around them to brush off socially questionable behaviour as quirks or cultural differences. It’s easy to look for the good in people, it’s not bad, but it is dangerous. Of course, most of you won’t take me seriously. My words will be brushed off as alarmist or conspiracy, which is fine. I suppose if you want to overlook grooming behaviours in your too-friendly uncle or the gaslighting of the strange man on social media, that’s your business.
However, I should recommend exploring the possibility that I’m not off my rocker…
The reality may surprise you.

Thanks for reading!

I am tired of being assumed irresponsible because I am unstable or vice versa. I cannot even say I know what genuine stability looks like. I did not come from money; I didn’t even come from a place of emotional and mental security. I was born different, told to “act normal” without understanding the meaning of the term, and bullied into a chaotic version of conformity that I am still breaking free of. And I know it’s not only me.
Some of you walk through life and legitimately have no idea what it is like to be born left behind. Not in skill or ambition, not in intellectual capacity, but genuinely left behind because you look like you’re doing just fine. But let me explain something for the neurotypicals born into loving, healthy homes: you do not understand life outside of your bubble, and it shows.You do not know what it is to wake up exhausted by the sheer realization that you opened your eyes still in a body that hates you, a mind that tries to kill you, and a society that tells you to be grateful you don’t have it worse.
You do not understand the physical drain of breathing or the cognitive fog that no amount of therapy or drug intervention can touch — many of which worsen it.
You are not built to sustain constant instability or emotional flux; constructed not for the anguish that is existence nor to weather the maelstrom mind that tries to swallow you whole.

Not everyone wakes up and is grateful for the air in their lungs. You say it’s selfish, dramatic, ridiculous…pick your baseless assumption. Some of us wake up curious why we feel like we haven’t slept in days after having slept for ten hours. People who are not relieved to have opened their eyes to a dice roll of emotional turmoil that they would rather forget, night terrors they cannot remember weighing heavy in the fog of residual restlessness — flashbacks of memories that feel so far away but somehow overwhelmingly fresh.

It baffles me — disturbs me, to my very core, to know that many of you look down at us from your high horses thinking you know better.
You offer us pity masquerading as compassion. Dangle your keys to happiness and stability in front of our faces, never seeing that you built the gate. You allow yourself to believe that you’re only trying to help and know better than us what we need. Create an environment where your experience supersedes our own because you see the stigmas you have created in us — because our symptoms only matter when they bother you; we can go fuck ourselves.
The truth is that we did not ask for this struggle any more than we asked for your opinion of our reality. We do not need your lack-of-perspective-fueled superiority complex driving us into the closet, gluing masks to our faces, so no one notices our pain. We are tired of hearing your unsolicited advice on altering ourselves to fit a mould that wasn’t built for us. All because it makes you uncomfortable.

We speak of our divergencies and are told how to “cure” them. We talk of our trauma, and we are shamed, pitied…turned into dishonest villains, and demonized for choosing ourselves over an abuser’s reputation.

We express an emotion, and you think it can be changed. You convince yourself that if we “just” concede to your guidance, everything will change for us. It does not work that way; most of us have tried. Not understanding that your perspective clouds your judgement juxtaposed to our own. You fail to grasp that our walls exist for reasons you may never have had to consider; some of us have lived in survival mode for so long that we couldn’t begin to explain why solitude hurts less than any attempt at masking in your presence. We see the effect it has on you, see you shift under the weight of our baggage or waiver at the first sign of a storm. Even if you don’t mind, it’s more than we can bear most of the time.
You tell us we matter and have such a big heart, that it’s a good thing and that there should be more of us. And we appreciate you. We do; we hear the love you are screaming from the mountain, but we are in the valley below, and you are nearing the peak. You’ve been fortunate enough to acquire seemingly well-constructed safety nets that have prevented you from ever having to survive the wilderness below. We choose solitude because predators on the prowl want to make prey of us. After all, you probably wouldn’t believe us anyway. No one wants to acknowledge that they know someone capable of unspeakable atrocities — sadly, it’s always someone we know. Someone you know.
Many people who have tried to mould us through their guidance have never experienced what we have, yet they possess the audacity to claim comprehension.

[That’s your ego.]
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However, something is to be said for a life forged in hellfire and solitude. Born into a darkness, you cannot conceive. If anything, we envy you that. We were created to withstand the unfathomable, though we do not know why we were ‘chosen’. What did we do to deserve being born into a world that pretends to care and understand, all while serving underhanded support and flattery on a painted tin platter and calling it gold?
And when we decide that we are done and make unthinkable choices, your end of the cycle repeats. Except for this time, you pity yourself; ask how you didn’t see it and wonder what could ever have been so bad. But you don’t listen when we speak, and you don’t dig into the meaning of the words; you don’t bother to understand the behaviours. As teens, we’re brushed off as attention seeking; as adults, we’re viewed as entitled hypochondriacs. Either way, we’re pitied but not helped — rarely understood, rarer still, accepted.
By the time we are comfortable enough to talk about living in the grey, you think we are new to it all; we aren’t. We’ve learned reality the hard way, hit rock bottom, and discovered it has a basement.So, yes, we hear you, and believe it or not, we appreciate you.
Can you hear us, though? Are the words I’ve written here cutting through your veil? Can you see how your perspective was not earned like ours? We are not cut from the same cloth or even the same design.

I understand it, though; indeed, I do — most everything I have said here today, you can, too. It’s hard to hear, but don’t miss the point because your pride can’t take a hit — accept your advice, and let yourself open up a bit.

You’ll be fine, it only hurts for a minute; it could be so much worse…


Thanks for reading!