This letter is long in coming. In fact it kept me from blogging the last couple of days because I knew the next time I sat in front of this laptop it would be to hash out this letter and I have been a little apprehensive about writing something I had no idea how to start.

You’re probably wondering why I even wanted to write this letter. Maybe you’re wondering who in the hell gave me the idea to sit down and hash this out with you. Maybe you’re just looking at this and laughing your ass off because deep down inside you don’t believe that what I write here is even going to make a difference.

Maybe it will.

Maybe it won’t.

A while ago I read this post (http://nurtureprinciples.com/2010/11/15/the-inner-critic/) and you have been on my mind ever since. Even more so with the impeding “breaking of my half mary virginity” this coming Sunday. You have been sitting on my shoulder ever since I made goal weight and you have been poking me on the side of the head like an annoying 6th grade bully trying to steal the lunch money of a 1st grader.

Enough is enough.

It is time for you to leave.

The first thing I need to do is give you an identity so that I can understand that you are NOT me and I am NOT you. Yes the negative thoughts I have at this point are my own but it wasn’t always that way. Since I was young enough to internalize the world around me, we’ve both known who that voice belongs too. The voice that tells me the loss of 100 pounds isn’t enough. The voice that tells me running a 10 minute mile is not fast enough. The voice that tells me having goals and ideas that would perpetuate a life of happiness will never come to fruition. The voice that tells no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try and no matter how much I want to think otherwise: I WILL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH.

My mother.

You probably don’t even remember telling me to never be like my brothers. If you knew the consequences of that life changing statement, I’m pretty sure you never would have utter those words. You had no idea it would set off a path of self destruction the way that it has. Every time I get close to feeling good about what I’m doing (relationships, career, weight loss, ) I crash emotionally and begin another round of self sabotage because in the end I can’t fathom the idea of being anything but like my brothers. As a young girl watching you and them live violently under the same roof solidified the idea that I am just like them…

I am just like you.

Watching them leave one by one to go and try to do something with their lives only to have them a) return to where they were destroyed or b) go far beyond my reach so that I couldn’t tell them that I needed big brothers to protect me or c) have them go on and perpetuate the sadness / addiction / and just plain old f*cked up life that you helped firmly plant and then systematically killed emotionally left a hatred for the girl facing me in the mirror.

I’m here to tell you it’s time to leave.

You don’t have a place in my life anymore.

You can tell me how I’m never going to be good enough.

It doesn’t mean I have to listen.

Look, let’s get honest. I lost 100 pounds and that’s f*cking awesome. You can tell me all you want how it’s not enough. You can whisper in my ears “So and so lost 150 pounds, that makes them better” but I don’t have listen. I can run a f*cking 10 minute mile and in a few days I’ll be earning my very first 1/2 marathon medal. You can whisper in my ear “So and so did a marathon already and runs faster” but I don’t have to listen. I am a good person. I’ve worked hard to get where I am and to heal the emotional scars that were first laid down by you. You can whisper “So and So makes more money” “So and so has a nicer car” “So and so prettier, happier, smarter and will always be better than you” but I don’t have to listen.

You can whisper “You’re just like your brothers”…

But we both know that’s not true.

I am not dead. I am no longer an addict. I am not running from a childhood that was plagued from the beginning. I am here. I am in the moment. I am standing stronger today than I ever have in my entire life. I am kicking and screaming to get back to what I know deep down inside to be true: I deserve this.

You are dead.

Your voice whispers from a grave that is so far removed from my life, I don’t understand why you still have that power over me. You will never come back and tell me that I’m finally good enough for you. You will never look me in the eyes and apologize for sending me down that path that would ultimately lead me to this letter. You will never hug me and say “Tara, stop being like your brothers”.

You can not heal me.

Only I can.

It may take a while for you to vacate the premises all together. Some days you’ll whisper in my ear and I’ll believe every word you’re saying. But hear me loud and clear: YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE! Pack your bags and get the hell out. Me and that girl in the mirror, we’re working hard to build a better relationship…

and there’s only room for one of you.