For you, dear girl

This is for you.

The tough girl. The girl who holds it together when everyone expects her to fall apart. The one who falls down seven times and stands up eight. You are the girl who is strong for everyone else. Who is the shoulder to cry on, because you know what it's like to not have one. The girl who is hard to love, and hard to understand, because she wasn't always the best at letting people in. The girl with the unbelievable amount of stubbornness, who people fear when she is angry, because they know she means business. You. That girl. The one who fights for everything and everyone she can, because the thought of anyone getting away with inflicting any kind of pain sickens her. 

The girl who finds it hard to feel anything, because the vulnerability of emotion absolutely terrifies her. This is for all the girls who have protective layers plastered around their heart, because people have been cruel and hurtful too many times before. The ones who find it hard to trust, because there isn't a feeling in the world like betrayal. You. That girl. The girl who walks on egg shells around the thought of ever giving herself to anyone else, because the thought of the potential for more pain is enough to crush her.

This is for all the girls who have had to build themselves up, because all other people have done is tear them down. The girls who have had their reputation ruined by the selfishness of other people, all out of sheer jealousy or judgments. The girls who have heard nothing but negativity their entire lives. Who were expected to be someone who they simply weren't. The girls who had to fight to become who they truly are, only to become the victim of more vicious gossip and lies. You. That girl. The one who had to hide out, because she felt it was better than facing what people said about her. The girl who was made to feel ashamed because she wasn't "like the others." Because she was "different."

For the girls who have to constantly put up walls to keep people out, from the fear of being broken again. The girls who have to set boundaries for everything, and even then it doesn't feel like its ever enough. You. The girl who has been hurt by everyone who ever told you they loved you. The one who has watched people walk out of her life and never bat an eye. The girl who learned what strong was because it was the only choice she ever had. You. The girl, who somehow, discovered that light trumps darkness, every single time. And found positivity and motivation to have faith in people, even when she thought there was no longer a hope for it. 

The ones who turn up the music so loud, it drowns out the pain, and the craving to scream until your lungs come out of your chest. The girls with the bandages on their forearms and the anti depressant on their dresser. You. The girl who sits in silence and contemplates what a world without her in it would be like, if anyone would even notice. The one who waves a red flag that no one ever seems to pick up on. A red flag and a cry for help that is so loud, and so distinct, it won't make sense to anyone else but us, when I say it's a tragic kind of invisible. This is for you, beautiful girl. 

For the girl who they call angry, and bitter. When all she really is, is afraid. And excuse you, for not allowing even one more person to toss you around and fuck with you emotions. The girl who stopped caring, and started doing things for herself. Who learned that sometimes, she once did too much for ungrateful, shitty people, and found herself in the process of that discovery. The girl who is made to think she is wrong because she finally gained a backbone and stopped allowing people to take advantage of her kindness, and willingness to go out of her way. You. This is for you, wonderful girl. 

This is for the girls who walked away when enough was enough. Who didn't take another second of the pain, and the ridicule. Who were made to feel crazy and stupid because they were doing what was right for themselves. The girls who put all opinions aside and stood up for what they wanted, and then suddenly became the bitch because they didn't roll over and die. Those girls. The girls who, after so long, became the ones who no longer tolerate the bullshit. Who learned that some people just don't care, and that there's nothing you can do to change them. You. The girl who built a world of strength with the consecutive bricks people threw at you. 

This is for you, wise girl.

The girl who takes the beating over and over again, physically or emotionally. Because she loves someone so much it feels worth the agony. Because she can't find a way out without being the one to severe ties. Because she feels like she would be losing if she packed her bags and left. The girl who is struggling day to day, looking for a way out of a brutal relationship that is slowly killing her soul. Falling to her knees every night wondering how in the world she never knew, years ago, that this was her future. The girl who lays in bed at night, next to a man, in a lifeless marriage, wondering when and where she will catch her break, and whether or not all the effort she has put in was ever worth it. Lying down, night after night, asking herself if she is at fault for all the madness. This is for you, amazing girl. 

This is for the girl who can't seem to conquer the battle. The battle of the morning mirror, where she cringes at the unknown-of beauty in her face and body. The battle of whether or not she ate too much, or met her goal weight. This is for that girl. The girl who can't stand the utter sound of the word perfect. Who hangs her head over the toilet after every meal because the feeling of any fullness is a demon she can't vanquish. You. That girl. The girl who skips meals, covers up with baggy sweatshirts and pops diet pills because you feel your body is rebelling against you. The one who looks at photos on the Internet of girls who you wish you could be. The evilness of envy that takes over your soul, when you're so hungry and so tired that you can no longer read the words on the screen. This one is for you, brave girl. 

This is for the girl who was helpless. The girl who said no. The girl who may or may not have had too many drinks. The girl who still blames herself for what a sick, twisted and heartless man did to her. The girl who buries her head in the sand because it feels better than having to actually face the real, raw anxiety of what happened. You. That girl. The one who lye awake in a dark room, with mascara tears running down your cheeks, trying to convince yourself out of what you knew had happened. The girl who tip toed around a new relationship because the history and heartache there wasn't so good. The girl who jolts out of her sleep in the middle of the night at the sheer feeling of anything out of the ordinary touching. You. That girl. The girl who sees it in her head the moment she closes her eyes. The one who wishes so badly that her past didn't define her, but somehow, some way, it always does. You.

This is for you, incredible girl. 

This is for the girl who was told and persuaded. Who was vividly groomed into believing. Who was forced into a life they didn't necessarily agree with, at a naive age when curiosity killed the cat. The girl who was forced into behaving in a way that was selfish and judgmental. That girl. The girl who spent her entire life bowing down and caving in to a lifestyle she never quite fit into. You. That girl. The girl with the open mind, who questioned everything and believed nothing without proof. Who is made to feel like less of a person because she didn't conform when she finally got away. That girl. The girl who grew and changed, and with great maturity, learned that sometimes the biggest wolf in sheeps clothing can be the individual you once idolized most. You, smart girl.

This is for the girl who wasn't high up on the radar. The girl who walked the halls of high school with her head down because she didn't have a place in any part of the puzzle. You. That girl. The one who didn't always have name brand shoes and fresh highlights in her hair. The one who was never really sure if she was being fooled, or just used. The one who had the one true friend, not the group of phonies. You, that girl. The one who always took the insults, for no reason. The lies and rumors people would start about you. You counted down the minutes until you could go home, lay your head down, and cry yourself to sleep. This. This is for you, dear girl.  

This is for you. The girl who made mistakes, and could never live them down. The girl who watched lines turn pink and her belly start to grow, as she picked up her backpack and left for school. The girl who was strong on the outside, but oh so weak on the inside. Who sat in the church pew on Sunday, and the classroom on Monday, while people wondered and simply walked away. No one asked you questions, they just assumed. The girl who ran out nauseated as people made their own judgments. The one who never knew that it was possible to love someone she hadn't met yet. The one who was forced into adulthood a bit earlier than she prepared for. You, girl. The girl who cluelessly held her own baby in her arms at 16, only to watch his father slowly disappear. The girl who had to be strong for herself, and her little boy. Who had to spin every plate she could to survive. You, incredible girl. 

This is for the girl who lost everything. Who was forced to put the one she loved, somewhere so dark, and so lonely, it almost didn't seem like it could ever be real. You. The girl who fell in love with a boy who was destined to leave her, and not in the way she could've ever imagine. That girl. The girl who at too young of an age, felt what it was like to have her heart savagely ripped out of her chest and buried under a hefty pile of cold, wet dirt. You are the girl who never deserved it, but was forced to feel what it was like for a heart to truly, medically break. This is for you, pretty girl. 

This. This is all for the girls. This is for the struggles and the heartbreaks. This is for the fear and the overcoming of it. This is for the pain and the sadness and the complications. This is for the girls who became who they are because they struggled. The girls who cried and waited and hoped for something better. The girls who became the women I'm writing to today. The girls, I am so proud to say, are my peers. Some of the most amazing women you will ever meet have fought a battle you know nothing about. And these, these are their stories.