Something that bothers me so much is realizing that somewhere along the way, my pain became entertainment for people who never actually cared about the person behind it. I started this platform for ME. Not for drama. Not for views. Not to become the person responsible for keeping everyone updated on someone else’s life. For me this is so much bigger than a reality tv show. I started it because I was a little girl who grew up in addiction, chaos, abandonment, and trauma every day of my life.. A little girl who had no voice ever.. Who spent years carrying things she never should’ve had to carry. And nobody ever showed up. And for the first time in my life, I finally had somewhere to put all of it. Finally I had an outlet. An opportunity to find a place in this world where I didn’t feel like a misfit or out of place and alone. I could talk about what happened to me. I could be angry. I could be open and honest. Nobody could silence me. I didn’t have to be scared!! I could be hurt. I could tell my story without feeling like I had to protect everyone else from the truth. And then I got the opportunity to help my mom and grandma get sober. Something I had wanted my ENTIRE life. I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t stop to think about what it would mean for me, my platform, or my own healing. I never do. I never think about me. I just knew I had a chance to help save people I loved, and I wasn’t going to let that opportunity pass me by. But nobody talks about what happens afterward. Nobody seems to care. Nobody talks about what it’s like when the very things you need to talk about to heal are now the things that could hurt someone else’s recovery. So once again, I found myself protecting someone else from the pain I was still carrying. And yes I am in therapy. But this is different. I stopped sharing things. I swallowed feelings. I changed the direction of something I had built for myself because suddenly my outlet wasn’t just mine anymore. I now had to protect… keep silence.. all over again. But I told myself it would be worth it. I wasn’t prepared. Now I have people telling me they only followed me for my mom. Asking for updates. Wanting the drama. Wanting to know what’s happening next. But where is that same concern for ME? Where was that concern for the little girl who lived through all of it? Where is that concern for the grown woman who is STILL trying to figure out how to live with everything that happened? My mom’s addiction might have been a story you watched on your phone, but it was a childhood I actually had to survive. How much does she even remember, that haunts me. Her dabble in sobriety doesn’t magically erase what happened to me. I am so unbelievably proud of my mom. I would make the same decision to help her a thousand times over. Period. But I am allowed to be proud of her recovery and still be struggling with my own. I’m allowed to love her and still have things I need to talk about and my intentions are NEVER to hurt her. But there is a line that needs drawn. It is not always all about her it was never supposed to be!!!! I’m allowed to be grateful that she’s healing and still grieve the fact that I lost the one place where I felt like I could be completely honest about my pain. And, I still don’t get my mom. Still. And I’m tired of feeling like I have to apologize for that. I spent my childhood being overlooked because of someone else’s addiction. I never expected to feel overlooked again because of their recovery. I am not just the daughter of an addict. I’m not just the person who helped get her sober. I’m not a narrator whose only purpose is to give everyone the next chapter of someone else’s story. I’m a person. I’m a mother. I’m a daughter who is still hurting. I’m someone who started sharing her life because she desperately needed to feel heard. I fought so hard for my mom to get her life back. I just wish people understood that I’m still fighting to get mine. 💔 - @child_of_an_addict