Every time someone calls me "entitled," it takes me back to when I was little, to the adoption center. There was this woman there—she wasn’t just cold, she was downright cruel. I was just a kid, confused and scared, and all I needed was someone to make me feel like I wasn’t invisible. But she made sure I felt like I didn’t matter at all.
I can still see her face, that cold, twisted look she’d give me whenever I walked into the room. It wasn’t just that she was indifferent—she was cruel. Every time I needed something, any little bit of attention or help, she’d make sure to make me feel like I was the problem. One day, I asked for something as simple as a little kindness, and she turned on me. Her eyes filled with disgust, and she sneered, “You think you’re entitled to anything? You’re not special. Life doesn’t owe you a damn thing.”
But that wasn’t all. She didn’t just say it; she belittled me, made sure to humiliate me every chance she got. She would mock my every request, laugh at my mistakes, like I wasn’t even worth her time. When I asked for help, she’d act like I was a burden, like I was asking for too much, like I didn’t deserve any care at all. Her words were sharp, meant to cut deep, and she took pleasure in it. She’d look at me like I was trash, like I was beneath her—like I wasn’t even a person.
She didn’t just treat me like I was invisible; she wanted me to feel worthless. She’d make comments about how I should just shut up, stop asking for things, stop trying to be noticed, like I didn’t even have the right to exist or have basic human needs. She’d look at me like I was weak for even reacting, like I was pathetic for wanting to be treated with some shred of dignity.
Her cruelty wasn’t just verbal. It was in her actions, her complete disregard for me as a person. It’s like she took pleasure in breaking me down, in making me feel like nothing. I’ve never been able to shake off the feeling that I’m just a burden to people, that I don’t deserve any kindness. That’s what she made me believe, and it’s stuck with me all these years. Every time I’m told I’m “entitled,” I hear her voice, and I feel that same sting of being told that my very existence is too much.
It’s like I’m still that kid, begging for just a shred of kindness, but always being told it’s too much. It’s demoralizing. It makes me feel like I’m wrong for needing anything, for wanting basic respect. I’ve never expected anything from anyone that they don’t give to everyone else, but somehow I always feel like I’m wrong for wanting to be treated like a human being. It’s like I’m always invisible, always pushing for something I’ll never get. I just want to be seen. I just want to be treated like I matter. But every time I hear those words, I feel like I’m asking for too much all over again.
I can still see her face, that cold, twisted look she’d give me whenever I walked into the room. It wasn’t just that she was indifferent—she was cruel. Every time I needed something, any little bit of attention or help, she’d make sure to make me feel like I was the problem. One day, I asked for something as simple as a little kindness, and she turned on me. Her eyes filled with disgust, and she sneered, “You think you’re entitled to anything? You’re not special. Life doesn’t owe you a damn thing.”
But that wasn’t all. She didn’t just say it; she belittled me, made sure to humiliate me every chance she got. She would mock my every request, laugh at my mistakes, like I wasn’t even worth her time. When I asked for help, she’d act like I was a burden, like I was asking for too much, like I didn’t deserve any care at all. Her words were sharp, meant to cut deep, and she took pleasure in it. She’d look at me like I was trash, like I was beneath her—like I wasn’t even a person.
She didn’t just treat me like I was invisible; she wanted me to feel worthless. She’d make comments about how I should just shut up, stop asking for things, stop trying to be noticed, like I didn’t even have the right to exist or have basic human needs. She’d look at me like I was weak for even reacting, like I was pathetic for wanting to be treated with some shred of dignity.
Her cruelty wasn’t just verbal. It was in her actions, her complete disregard for me as a person. It’s like she took pleasure in breaking me down, in making me feel like nothing. I’ve never been able to shake off the feeling that I’m just a burden to people, that I don’t deserve any kindness. That’s what she made me believe, and it’s stuck with me all these years. Every time I’m told I’m “entitled,” I hear her voice, and I feel that same sting of being told that my very existence is too much.
It’s like I’m still that kid, begging for just a shred of kindness, but always being told it’s too much. It’s demoralizing. It makes me feel like I’m wrong for needing anything, for wanting basic respect. I’ve never expected anything from anyone that they don’t give to everyone else, but somehow I always feel like I’m wrong for wanting to be treated like a human being. It’s like I’m always invisible, always pushing for something I’ll never get. I just want to be seen. I just want to be treated like I matter. But every time I hear those words, I feel like I’m asking for too much all over again.
