i know what happened to me

There's something I've been realizing later: maybe I stop feeling the need to explain yourself when I finally accepted my own version of the story.

For so long, I was always explaining myself.

Every reaction had a reason. Every feeling had a story behind it. Every choice had a reasoning.

And a part of me always believed that if I could just explain it well enough, people would finally understand me. That if I could just find the perfect words for how I felt people would magically see my actions as understandable.

Not necessarily agree with me, not even tell me I was right. Just understand the why.

I wanted people to know what was happening inside my head when they only saw what was happening on the outside. I wanted people to know there was more than what they were seeing. I wanted people to understand that I wasn't a bad person because of what they were seeing.

So I'd talk.

I'd explain the context. I'd explain what happened before. I'd explain what I meant, what I didn't mean, why I did it.

And when they didn't understand, I'd try to find another way to explain it.

Looking back, I think I was searching for something much simpler than being right.

I wanted to feel seen.

But I've started to realize that explaining yourself doesn't guarantee understanding. I could explain what happened a thousand times over but if the person didn't want to understand, they wouldn't.

I've come to accept the idea that two stories can exist.

Someone else is allowed to have their version of the story.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to make people see things from my side if they don't want to. And if the people around them chose to believe their version without ever hearing mine, that's their choice too.

There's always two sides to every story. Remember that.

I've learned that I don't need to tell mine. At least, not in detail. I'll tell my story this way, but explaining my thoughts but not ever needing any of you to accept it.

So right now, if you're reading this and choosing to believe the other story you've heard about me. Go ahead. I don't need to defend myself against someone's version of me.

I know what I did. I also know what they did to me. And just because no one ever will know doesn't mean it didn't happen.