Dear Dad,
I should have opened my letter by dear and state your name, or perhaps Dear Man. For Dad is a title earned not just given.
Anyway, dear dad, I know you think that I am some let down mistake that held you back from your life. You never had to tell me, your hands showed me. You drained the yellow from the sun and the green from the grass. You stole the color from my skin and left a porcelain shell of a child, you took black and white and only made grey. You took my smile and threw it away.
I know that you look at me like I was an inconvenience to your life and that you would have been happier not having me around. I know that you will never be proud or content with my existence, and I'm slowly learning to be okay with that.
For you see, those bruises you left behind left more than a physical appearance, they left emotional wounds that healed into strength. I will never know exactly why you kept me around when you knew I would have been better off living with my grandmother, but then again maybe I do know. Maybe it was because you needed a punching bag. You needed someone to beat so that you could feel better about how empty you are. I watched you ruin lives of women as you ruined your marriages, and I took your harsh words and harsher hands.
They say a child will learn behaviors of their parent and that will effect their self esteem and mental behaviors when they grow into adults. Perhaps that is why for so long I craved empty love and abusive touch. That was acceptable, because you taught me that was all I was worth. Destructive actions lead to a distorted self imagine. Your words were never too kind and your hands never gentle. You missed my accomplishments but never my mistakes, your judgment always brutal.
I remember the way my back felt when you threw my body into that door, the way your fishy clenched my shirt. I can still feel the ground under my body as it caught me when your hand put me there. I can still feel the pulsing in my head as it knocked into the dirt. I still hear all those degrading words you put into my head and I still feel the bitterness of your heart.
I would like you to know that I am day by day loving myself more and more. I am healing broken thoughts. The PTSD is becoming more and more bailable, the empty feeling is slowly gaining warmth, the self inflicted scars are healing, the emotional abuse starting to be less mentally paralyzingly, and I am doing well. While you tore apart a little girl you shaped a strong woman. I'm happy to inform you that I have unsuccessfully attempted suicide 4 times in my life and I don't care if you find it a shame. I want you to know that I'm doing so well in life because I know you only wanted to see me struggle the way you did. I want you to know that while I still have my bad spells and my second thoughts, you don't cross my mind as much and I see yellow in the sun, the grass is green again, my skin is glowing, I can sometimes see the black and white, and I'm smiling again.
Sincerely, A stronger woman
