Does Trying to Be a Hero🦸‍♀️ Make You a Villain 😈 Being Rejected as A Savior. Power in the Deep.

Back when I was staying at Vanessa’s home, she would get drunk and be so damn mean to Mia. I had to get in between them more than once, stopping her from beating on Mia while she spewed the most horrible shit—calling her all kinds of names, telling her she wished she had never been born. She kept her up all night with her bullshit.  

I took Mia away from the house so many times—driving around, just trying to give her a break. But honestly, it broke me inside. Because Mia reminded me so much of myself when I was a teenager. She was having suicidal thoughts, and I remember thinking like that and

And my dad was a huge drug addict, but he was the one that I felt like loved me for who I was.

Mia had this seriously messed-up opinion of Gabriel, though—because of Vanessa. Gabriel was Mia's biological father.  She thought he was just a selfish drug addict, a liar, and a bunch of other stupid shit. She even made a comment once that she thought he was looking at her weird, which I know wasn’t what he was doing. But Vanessa had filled her head up with so much paranoia, making her believe Gabriel was a bad guy. And then she’d turn around and try to make her interact with him.  

When I was a teenager, if I hadn’t had my dad, I probably would’ve killed myself. And I felt like Mia needed Gabriel in her life too. But her perspective was so fucked up.  

So, one day, I had spent the whole day with Mia. I talked to her for like two hours—explaining everything, telling her Gabriel's side of things, all the stuff he had told me. Because when I first started talking to him, we had spent hours just talking. I mean I remember talking for five hours in one day. That’s why we connected so much. And I told Mia his perspective on what happened and how he felt and that he was not some kind of bad guy that he was painted out to be. 

Then, I messaged Gabriel and told him what was going on. Asked him to reach out to her. And he did. They met, and they started hanging out after that. And I know they spent a lot of time together for a while. But I heard things changed.  But I really don't know now, and I don't need to.

I sent Gabriel a message—a simple “thank you.” And he blocked me.  

And part of me understands why. I was obsessed with him. I could not let go. I sent way-too-long messages, way too often. But the way he paints me to people—it fucking hurts.  

And yeah, I wanted to fight him especially after he called me a stupid bitch. I used have fantasies about KICKING HIS FUCKING ASS!!! 🤬 And then fucking him! 😢 Because honestly? I don’t actually want to fight him.  It just hurt. And I still love him

Even though he hates me.  

I wanted to give him something—to help relieve his pain, to offer him back some piece of what had been lost. His reason he used to be addicted to drugs for years was Vanessa running off with his Mia, still in the womb. Two weeks later she was married to another man. She put him in the birth certificate. And she lied to everyone, even though some people knew the truth. I didn't, for a long time. And I wanted to help him have back something from what was stolen. And in return, he shut me out. That contrast—what I extended and how he responded—was sharp, unbalanced, almost absurd. And when held next to the reality that he kept Vanessa close, despite everything she had done, it only deepened the injustice. It made me question whether effort, honesty, or care mattered at all. What was the point of anything? 

And I don’t know why, but lately, I feel like I just have to tell people shit. Something about it.

Have you ever been slapped so hard you fall off the stage into the audience and realize there was an audience you didn’t see before?

The realization—*It’s all just stories.* A moment of stepping back, of seeing the narrative mechanics at play rather than being consumed by them. The pain was a real experience, but what were we all doing this for? Why did I need to feel this?  

Was I just making all this up to feel like some kind of hero?  If I'm out here watching as I make the heroic moves, as I see them, then who am I sitting here looking back at this all unfolding? And can I detach from the marionette strings?

It's not about dismissing my emotions—but being in AWE of them.  I can reclaiming the narrative behind the motions of the puppets. Instead of one where my intentions were rejected, maybe it was one where I had simply offered a gift, freely and without condition. Whether he could receive it or not—whether he was even capable of relief—was his own that didn't make him better or worse than me—it just meant we were seeing from different angles. And I could see him from a different my angle. 

What is there is Power in my Pain? There is power in my pain. Is there? Maybe pain and the impossible come from the same power—but are interpreted differently.  

If stories shape reality, then deep emotion is a force—something raw and unfiltered—that can be harnessed to be written, ridden and directed. One that does not revolve around rejection, but transformation.  

What if, just outside that invisible boundaries, something was happening way over there—something creeping up that would flip the entire script? What if I had something all wrong?  Sometimes… it’s good to be wrong.

By

Sonya Herrera

✨❤️‍🔥🏵️ AWEnomALi 🏵️ ❤️‍🔥✨