I am worth something

So I've had a little time to cool off. I went for a run because I didn't want to pound the keyboard while I was mad. I still don't know if this is going to be a completely coherent narrative though.

Today I found out that my Dad and Stepmum are coming to Sydney next week and once again, they didn't bother to tell me. In fact, I don't think they will even bother to see me.

Ok.

Five years ago, I would have been devastated. I would have been crushed. I would be questioning my value, my ever depreciating value. Why am I not worth the call? the time? or the effort? What did I do wrong?

My Dad told me what my worth was once. I am worth xxx amount of dollars. Daughter for sale. He was angry and he took it out on my twelve year old self. Never doubt that a parent can hurt a child as much as a child can hurt a parent.

I carried this number around with me for many years, wielding it like a broken arm until one day I saw me. I saw myself reflected in his eyes and I saw that I was infinitely precious, I was a fragile, broken doll but I was something precious, I was something worth holding on to.

Last year, I was wobbly, you know how wobbly I was. Last year, I had to learn to stand on my own two feet for the first time in a long time, and I had to learn to recognise my own value. I had to pull myself together from the inside.

It's taken me most of my life to get to this point. Here goes:

I am worth something. I am worth more than they regard of me.

I am smart.

I am funny.

I am a good friend.

I am a good daughter.

And I deserve to be loved regardless.

And if my Dad and stepmum don't want to be a part of my life, then I am okay to let that go. But I will never let them make me feel like I am nothing again.