I write this letter as I know I would never be able to convey my words to you without sobbing.
When I was a child you taught me to respect and value myself and that I should expect the same from others. You taught me that I was just as able and as valuable as any boy. You taught me to stand up to bullies. You taught me to value and love others. You taught me to respect others without giving consideration to any difference they may have from me.
Today, two days after the election, I feel as if you have betrayed those values that you so deeply instilled in me. Today, I believe I am mourning some of the respect I lost for you on November 8, 2016, more so, I believe, than I am mourning the victory of Trump.
-your all loving daughter
Family
I was your first baby girl. I remember everyone would tell you that I looked just like you, and you would swear onto every God that I didn't. When mum first told me this story, I thought it was because you were ashamed to have a kid like me. I'll admit that I was wrong; you were just trying to protect my femininity, because you didn't feel like I'd want people saying I looked like a man - my father - when I was older. I appreciate that, even though I would never take offence to being called my father's daughter anyways.
Why? Because you're strong, amazingly strong, and you raised kids that weren't even yours out of the goodness of your heart. You and mum are happy, I think, albeit petty arguments here and there. You used to be the sole income of the family. Isn't that just...
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It's been a little over a year since I have been wanting to put all my thoughts into words and never thought I would. I'm not a story writer, a publisher, or anything along those lines but I do believe I can tell the truth and how I feel. After so many thoughts, battles and fights I decided it's time to speak how I feel through an open letter for everyone to read and not just "hear" through others.
My name is Anthony and I am a father of two beautiful babies. Jackson Dugas, born on February 18th, 2013 (3 yrs old) and Meiah Dugas, born on February 13th, 2014 (2 yrs old). In the past three years the Mother and I have bounced up and down so much as parents that it has become too stressful to even bother anymore. I have been bashed online over so many lies and it does nothing but hurt...
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I’ve written so many letters similar to this, but I’ve never posted them. I want at least someone to understand my position.
To my Uncle who my family has disowned:
You have cerebral palsy due to some head trauma you survived during birth. You have an older sister - my mother. She was three when you were born. After that, things changed drastically in your house. My mother was forced to grow up at only 3 years of age. She watched you while your mother was doing housework, and she did housework while your mother - Grammie - watched you.
In school, you were picked on, abused, neglected. My mother cared for you then. She protected you. She actually has PTSD from her experiences at school.
There were things she didn't get to do because of you. You would get upset if she...
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I just thought you should know that I miss you. I won't tell you that directly because we aren't talking. I need you to know that the things you said cut through me like a hot knife through butter. Your words took me back to one of the worst times in my life and it kills me that you unleashed such heart breaking words so effortlessly. I know we've always had our differences, our imperfections, our flaws. That's true of every pair of siblings. I understand that, but those things shouldn't become ammunition in any situation. I wouldn't tell people your business because you're my little sister and my first goal has always been to protect you. I wouldn't drag up your past to make you feel small and I certainly wouldn't do so behind your back. I'd like to think you'd do the same for me. You're...
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I hate the person you've become. I sit and think some days about how I used to look up to you, one day I was sure I'd be just like you. Thankfully I dodged a bullet with that one. Yes, you were always pretty always skinny and all the boys in school wanted to be with you, but look where you are now. Your hatred inside your body has consumed your whole inner being and has honestly come out through your pores. The man that you've got has completely alienated you from your family you have a few friends who are the wives of his friends. (Honestly I feel sorry for you)
You play the victim tell all your lies try to make everyone else hate your family that way it will be easier for you to hate your family, but it's not worked. Yes we may not speak but it was no fault of our own, a person...
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As your son, yes I said son, society believes I should respect you but how may I ask am I supposed to respect a man who blatantly disregards my identity?
How am I supposed to respect a man who believes my sexuality is a phase? A man who's inherent sexism is forever plastered in my brain as his view of feminine people and whose vapid arguments of homophobia fall flat because they are so out dated.
Yet you claim to love us so much. You claim to care and only want the best for us but turn around and deny us.
You always acted like you wanted boys instead, why does it matter that we were assigned female at birth?
It doesn't matter to me how or when you were raised. This is now, this is how the world is and there's nothing you can do to change it. We are who we are and no amount of...
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I was 14 years old when I found out the man who had been raising me since i was 8, wasn't my real father. Before the age of 8 I remember wishing i had a normal family, a Mother who didn't have to work all the time to provide; A father who played games with me and let me be "daddy's little girl." I never understood where my father was, and to finally have one and that be torn away from me just because he wasn't biological was heart wrenching. Not that my dad was a bad dad...he just wasn't mine i felt and as a child you constantly convince yourself that your life is so horrible.
At 18 I started trying to find you. I knew your name, I knew that you lived in Louisiana. I knew you had a daughter named Ashley, and a son named Dennis jr. I longed to find my siblings. I had a sister through...
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I was 14 years old when I found out the man who had been raising me since i was 8, wasn't my real father. Before the age of 8 I remember wishing i had a normal family, a Mother who didn't have to work all the time to provide; A father who played games with me and let me be "daddy's little girl." I never understood where my father was, and to finally have one and that be torn away from me just because he wasn't biological was heart wrenching. Not that my dad was a bad dad...he just wasn't mine i felt and as a child you constantly convince yourself that your life is so horrible.
At 18 I started trying to find you. I knew your name, I knew that you lived in Louisiana. I knew you had a daughter named Ashley, and a son named Dennis jr. I longed to find my siblings. I had a sister through...
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Growing up, we always had our issues. We fist fought constantly when we were younger, and I'll never forget constantly having nail marks indented into my skin. I'll never forget the time that I sprained my wrist from hammer punching you, especially when it's cold out and it aches from being sprained. There was so much sibling rivalry between the two of us that it would be impossible to ever solve in this lifetime. We competed with each other over almost anything. Sports, school, boyfriends, who had more friends, whose hair was longer, who was prettier, you name it, we compared it. In a larger than average family, we were dying for attention and I strongly believe that contributed to a lot of the rivalry.
We didn't always not get along. There were times when we were on the same sports...
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