
Iβve been angry. Very, very angry. Super angry. For the past week, Iβve been carrying this heavy ball of emotion in my chest, and itβs not hatredβitβs just anger. Deep, burning anger. And a little bit of resentment too.
I wanted to talk about it because we donβt often talk about the unpleasant emotions we feel. We like to act like weβre always fine, always βaboveβ certain feelings, always composed. A lot of people pretend they donβt feel jealousy, or anger, or resentment, or disappointment. And because nobody talks about these things honestly, many people never learn how to deal with them.
Somehow society has made it seem like if you feel jealous, youβre a terrible person. If you feel anger, then youβre unkind. If you feel hate, then you lack character. But I disagree. Nobody is above human emotions. Every single person on this planet feels these things. The difference is in how we choose to manage them.
I know I come here all the time to share reflections, growth, healing, positive things Iβve learned. But today, I want to be real. I want to talk about the anger, the resentment, even the hate sitting somewhere in my heart. Because these emotions are real, and they are human, and this week they have been heavy on me.

I became a single parent this year. For the past seven, eight months, Iβve been raising my daughter completely alone. It has been difficult in a way I cannot fully explain. Not just the basic parenting….feeding, clothing, changing diapers etc but parenting in the sense of trying to help a child who cannot speak or express herself heal from something painful that she experienced. Parenting is already hard…..but parenting a child who is trying to recover from trauma is another level entirely.
Regardless of the difficulty, I have been doing it. Somehow. I honestly donβt know how Iβve managed, but Iβm grateful to God for the strength, and grateful for the small pockets of support Iβve had around me.
Last week though, my baby fell sick. Since I had her, she has never really been sick….not a cold, nothing. And then she suddenly had a cold and became so uncomfortable and cranky. In taking care of her, I caught the cold too. So now it was a sick baby and a sick mother, and itβs just the two of us. It made the week so much harder because I wasnβt okay myself, but I couldnβt rest. I couldnβt pause. I couldnβt choose myself. I still had to be responsible, present, and most importantly….patient for her.
I was managing everything until one morning this week. I had just woken up, and my baby was cranky and running a temperature. I was trying to sort everything out when I got a call from my mom. She told me things that someone had said about me….things that were clearly meant to damage me. And in that moment, the anger rushed through me so fast, I could feel it in my bones. Because here I am, trying to take care of a sick child, while sick myself, overwhelmed, exhausted, with no break at all…..and someone else is waking up in the morning thinking of how to make my life harder. It made me furious. It made me feel hate. It made me feel rage. And Iβm being honest about it, because pretending wonβt make it go away.

The truth is, I am angry. With how much Iβve gone through this year. With how much Iβve sacrificed. With how much pain Iβve had to push through. And Instead of appreciation, recognition, or even apology, I am being attacked, shamed, and dragged. It feels like Iβm being punished for surviving.
I didnβt choose this life. I didnβt wake up one day and say, βLet me be a solo parent.β Everything that happened to me this year was not because of my actions. None of it. But Iβve carried every consequence because I had to. Because I didnβt have a choice. And the weight of it all is enough to make anyone lose their mind.
Iβve lived in a shelter. I’ve lost my immigration status. I’ve lost my job. I’ve lost stability. I’ve lost myself in moments. And all of this happened because I put my child first. And somehow, someone still has the audacity to wake up and think of ways to make my life worse.
Thatβs where the resentment sits.
Another layer of my anger is motherhood itself. Motherhood has demanded everything from me. My entire life has been on pause. From being sick for months during pregnancy, to maternity leave, to doing the newborn phase alone, to dealing with postpartum while trying to find myself again…..only to stop all of that and focus solely on my child because of what she went through. For almost two years, my life has been on hold. And for someone like me, who is naturally active and hates being idle, it feels like prison sometimes.
I love my daughter deeply. Being her mom is the greatest joy of my life. But the truth is, Iβm tired. Not of her….never of her…but of everything Iβve had to endure.
So yeah, I’m angry. At everything, at everyone, at life, at how unfair things have been. I’m angry at how much Iβve had to sacrifice just to keep moving forward, and at how people still judge me for the choices Iβve had to make. I’m angry at how people question the way I choose to deal with my pain. If I talk about it, it becomes, βWhy are you putting yourself out there?β If I stay quiet and do what I need to do to protect my peace, it becomes, βYou shouldn’t have done thisβ…..Itβs honestly exhausting.
People keep telling me Iβm strong, but sometimes it honestly annoys me, because I donβt feel strong. I donβt think Iβm strong. I just didnβt have any other option. I survived because I had no choice, and along the way, I became very good at hiding pain. Thatβs the truth.
So again, Iβm angry. Iβm sad. Iβm filled with resentment. And Iβm writing this because itβs my reality today. Itβs who I am right now. Itβs what is sitting in my chest and what is loud in my head.
If youβve read this far, thank you for reading.
I hope Iβm able to find peace again.
I hope the anger leaves my body.
I hope the hurt stops taking up so much space.
I hope I rebuild myself to the point where every day doesnβt feel like Iβm paying for someone elseβs actions.
I hope stability finds me again…….and when the goodness comes, when the light returns, I hope I get to share that with you too.

With anger,
Beks π
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