I hate you. And I do not say this lightly. I do. I like you, sometimes, but not often. And most of this is through your own agency. You’re a manipulative, vindictive, and petty woman. I do not know how anyone could trust you, much less love you; when we try to do things for you and you throw it back in our faces. We try to give you something, flowers, cake, any gift, and the first thing you do is scowl and say ‘take it back’. The only gifts you accept are from those you call family, but are not. You’re a bitch, to put it simply. Personally, I cannot tell you anything because the first thing you do is call someone up and relay everything I told you. And even then, you twist the words until you’re the hero and I am the villain. I’m sick of it and I’m sick of you. And obviously, you’re sick of yourself.
I’m not your friend, I’m not your servant, I’m not your employee – I’m your daughter. But it seems that all four of these things are synonymous to you. You can criticize others on how they raised their children, but take a look at yourself. I started my period in eighth grade but you didn’t find out until junior year of high school. Why? It’s because I was scared to tell you because you are a psychopathic egomaniac. Not only that, but you blatantly favor the first-born. Why? Because she’s your first born? Is it because her father left you in the dust after he had his fun? Besides, she’s a failure. She’s nearly 40 and can’t hold a job down; she’s a parasite. I’m better than her and everyone knows it. When she visits, you cook everyday for her but not for me and not for Daddy. That’s not how a family fucking works. You either feed all of us or you go to your room and lie there like the pathetic waste of space you are. There’s no in between.
Your unfair treatment of my father is atrocious. You chose to marry him. He had created a new life for himself and yet he brought himself down to your level because he loved you. You tell him nothing yet you expect him to know everything and you hold it against him. You’ve turned everyone under your manipulative little claws against him and against me. Unfortunately, I’ve nowhere to go so I’m forced to bear with you until either you give me the money to move out or you die. And your suspicions of a possible affair are not only unfounded but they won’ yield anything to you. You don’t have a prenuptial agreement because you probably don’t know what that is and secondly, adultery is not a crime. You can’t sue him for that, even if it were true. You wouldn’t even be able to sue him for emotional distress. Which is so low of you, to want to do something like that to someone you claim to love. If anyone could be accused of cheating, it’s you. You leave for long periods at a time and you don’t answer your phone. Not to mention you have loose morals. After all, you were the one to have a child, unwed and in your early twenties with a man with a family of his own. And what’s worse? You were his family’s friend and you lead him astray. You caused him to leave his family. You’re the slut here, not my father. And I’m deeply ashamed to have even been born from you.
Also, you don’t seem to understand quite how the world works. And as you read this, you might say that it is I who am unaware, but I assure you, it’s you. You see, you have kids and you raise them and they have to respectful to you. But it’s a two way street. You have to be respectful too because when the kids grow up and you get old, the kids will take care of you and if they resent you, as I do to you, they will stick you in a cruddy nursing home and forget you. Or worse, completely abandon you in a time of need.
Don’t push me to do that.
And yes, this could turn everyone against me, but do you think I really care? I don’t care much for your family anyway. The first born? Please, I barely consider her my sister. But if you wonder why this letter is so long, it’s because unlike you, I have self-control. Much more than what is healthy. If I tried to sit you down and tell you this, you’d brush me off with some off-hand comment about combing my hair to your specifications because you know that I’d say is going to hurt you. So I wrote this letter, you see, so you can read it and hear me telling you this. To let you know this is how I feel. And you better appreciate because this is just about your only chance to know what I really think of you. And it’s sad, isn’t it? It’s sad that you caused your own daughter to hate you so much.
Hugs to you and I hope this letter is the beginning of your healing and moving forward and possibly even forgiving your mother. As I got older I learned that my mother did the best she could... Let me say it differently. I learned that my mother navigated through life the best way she could with so many filters and without flight control. I think this allowed me to move forward and learned skills that I could pass own to my children like trust and security. Do I make sense?
Not to mention you have loose morals. After all, you were the one to have a child, unwed and in your early twenties with a man with a family of his own. And what’s worse? You were his family’s friend and you lead him astray. You caused him to leave his family. You’re the slut here, not my father. And I’m deeply ashamed to have even been born from you.
So, your father was a married man who had an affair and got a single girl pregnant, but your mother is the slut? You might want to rethink that.
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