I met my new neighbor today. A girl I graduated with. She has two young daughters and she mentioned how crappy of a boyfriend she has currently and how crappy her kid's father is. But she's sweet. Very sweet. It makes me question how I, someone who has been tortured for most of their childhood by men, didn't turn out like her. Messing with men who are just like that. I have always questioned that. Why didn't I turn out on drugs, a prostitute? How I didn't end up 15 and pregnant, a runaway. I mean those problems can certainly cause outcomes like this.

And then I realized the one difference. I have parts. My mind was creative and intelligent enough. My age was correct enough. To make parts that protect me from the ugly things I've seen in my lifetime. I have protectors. Who parent me when I had no parents. I had protectors who told me when men were trouble. I've had protectors pick and choose friends, and even when I can't speak up for myself, they speak up for me. If I didn't have protectors I would highly doubt I would be where I am. I could be a prostitute. In the hands of an abusive man. I could be on drugs, an alcoholic. I don't hate my system. How could I possibly hate them? They've kept me alive and stable. I hate what happened to me. But I don't hate them. They have spent most of life protecting me. Keeping me out of harms way. Even if sometimes they do weird stuff or cause me to feel a little and and and all of these also...