You probably think that how you treated me was okay, that raising a child in a suffoacting house devoid of real affection was normal. That hiding me when the missionaries came to our house and treating me like a dog around our family was funny. I'm here to tell you it's not, I remember you locking me outside for contradicting your lies, I remember puking up my food for years because I was never "pretty". You were ashamed of me and slowly, I was too. I don't know why you are the way you are but you have left your mark on me, I'm depressed and anxious. I can't eat a full meal without wanting to send it down the pipes. But you know what I'm not? A victim. I'm an Honors student and a varsity track sprinter. I have people that love me, can you say the same?
All my unrequited love,
Your Daughter
