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catlady93

Fort Worth, United States

I'm just your average introvert a little obsessed with Johnny Depp and film. I love pets, hate the outdoors, and pre-record TV shows which I later binge-watch. I travel sometimes cross country and occasionally write.

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Fighter

Dec 12, 2017 6 years ago

It's not written on her 45-year-old face. It's not seen when she takes her long strides in heels downtown. It's not in the way she cherishes every bite of fruit. It's not even in her kind voice. The pain of her past rests in her eyes – no matter how big she smiles. She was eighteen and set to go to college. She could not wait to get away from the verbal abuse. But she met the wrong person. She was nineteen and on her way to being alone. At least for nine months. When the day finally came, she was tired but hopeful. It wasn't until three years later did the signs of a longer road ahead start to show. For fourteen years she was tormented by her own creation. She was screamed at, cursed at, hit, publically humiliated, and her credit destroyed. It didn't matter how many times they moved. The destruction always followed. Her tears could have filled a football-sized pool. For a while, nobody believed her or the severity of her oppositional child. The nervous breakdowns piled up throughout. She tried literally everything, but the pain did not stop until the suicide of the partner that abandoned her eleven years prior. She is here today because she never stopped dreaming, never stopped caring, but most of all, she has never stopped trying. Today she checks her phone for the umpteenth time. No, no email yet. She is waiting on the magical email that will have made up for all her suffering. The email that will end the current struggle. The email that will prove that there are such things as second and third chances in life. She waits for the email from the job saying that she's hired for her dream career. What makes a fighter? Is it the struggle of single parenting? The rough childhood? Is it life itself? Or all of these things? The answer is the latter. My mother was should have been hardened by life, but instead, she emerged with a fighting spirit.

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