As It Comes….I Will Remain … Schanntel

I used to run from anything—and anyone—that didn’t fit the story I told myself. I accepted being the hated one. The one never quite enough in the eyes of others.

The one they disrespect without pause or guilt. I’m that girl—the strong one. The one who always gets through, no matter what. So who cares if she cries? If she breaks? She’ll just get back up, right?

Damn right I do.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Pain still cuts. Jealousy disgusts me. Envy pushes me further away. And conditional love? It kept me down—small, low, and unwanted.

So I stopped carrying the weight that no longer belonged to me. I was killing myself just to understand you, to be close to you. And I did understand you all … too well. It hurt me deeply.

But somehow, you all enjoyed it. You took comfort in my pain. You liked the screams, the yelling, the words I never should’ve had to say. But I don’t take them back. And deep down, they know I meant every one.

I became angry at their words and actions because the family I was raised in didn’t act like this. They loved. They laughed. They cared. So where did they go?

The family that kept memories alive—the kind that was bonded by love, not just blood.

Was I the only one who missed it? The parties? The holidays? The dinners? Grandpa? Grandma? The house filled with kids and joy?

I mean damn… was it just me?

Then it hit me—I was the only one. The only one who cared. The only one trying to hold on to something, to people, who died along with those memories.

Schanntel, it just won’t be the same anymore. And you have to live with that. You have to accept it, understand it, and move on… just like they did.

But maybe that’s my strength—remembering when they chose to forget.

Holding on to love when others let it slip away.

I carry the legacy now. Not in tradition, but in truth.

In my heart, they still live. And even if I stand alone in this, I’ll stand with honor.

Because someone has to remember what family was supposed to be.