In therapy, as part of the process of forgiveness, my therapist suggested that I write letters to my parents. Pretty much to get it all out on the table, or atleast out of my head because I am not mailing these letters.

I've been putting it off for a few weeks now, apparently, as well, as writing in my journal because I am afriad of the feelings it will bring up. Not just the emotional pain, but severe turmoil/guilt about feeling that i am being disloyal for not just going along with their shit. I need to do this because they are not now nor were they always right when I was growing up.

Dear Mom,

I am hurting when you choose religion over family. I need to feel you accept me even if I don't follow your choice of religious beliefs. I feel hurt because the church made it okay for you to favor they boys over Catie and myself. I was treated different becasue I was supposed to be a lady/mom/housewife when I grew up. I hate you for manipulating all of us with your emotional outbursts and insecurities like grandpa did to his family. I'm not okay with sitting idly by while we walk on eggshells not to hurt you and have problems or situations in my life and not get support/strength from you because you act so weak and broken. I don't want to be like you. I want to be able to handle life like an adult without throwing fits or turning other people's hardtimes around and making it about you and your insecurities, short-comings, and inabilities. I'm tired of having to ppick my sister back up because after talking with you she's broken down and depressed because she can't have a good, healthy, and adult relationship with her mother, either. I am anngry that you make Shawn feel unwelcome in our family because he and I have chosen not to get married yet. We have our own reasons. I understand your concerns, but this is my chioce and my life. It hurts me deeply to not be accepted for who I am as a good person because you are too caught up in your own shit and religious beliefs to see me as an adult making my own decisions. I am upset that the man I love is not comfortable around my family because he is overly concerned about offending all of your over-sensitive/delicate sensibilities.

There are so many little things I refain from doing or talking about because I want to respect you, but it hurts that you don't respect me enough to have any censors on your behaviors or words. I am done with your emotional manipulation/terrorism. I'm tired of not calling your shit like it is because no one wants to deal with your emotional outbursts. It hurts that you would rather protest me and the man I love sleeping in the same bed than have everyone enjoy spending time together as a family. I'm not saying you shouldn't care, but I am saying that you don't respect my decision and you care more about your religious beliefs than you do about our family being together here in this life. You are so concerned about our family's afterlife together that we can't enjoy the time we have together now. I'm tired of compromising for you and not getting it in return. I want to be with my family without stipulations. We aren't rubbing it in your face. We just want to be together with our family without being told/implied our replationship isn't good enough/valid enough for you to be comfortable. When do I get to be comfortable? When do I get to be selfish? Why is it wrong for me to fight for my beliefs? Why is my relationship with married or not any of your business? When do I get to live my life without fear of how it will affect you when it should have no bearing on your life? Why does it always have to be about you? Why the fuck are you SO damn insecure? How can you not see what you are doing is wrong? If you do see it, then what the fuck is wrong with you?

Maybe you should feel bad and then get over not being the perfect mother. Feel bad for forgetting me and being too busy to come to my events, but not too busy to go to my brothers' events. I never felt like I was good enough. So, I stopped trying to damn hard because what's the fucking point if you don't care or if I'm not good enough. Why did the boys get away with shit just because they were boys. they are momma's boys. Sometimes I think you resented me for being daddy's little girl. I resented you for not believing in me in things I wanted and dreamed. I hurt because you did things with Catie and left me out. I'm tired of hurting and not feeling good enough. I'm mad that my independence was confusing to you, and my questions were seen as defiance to your authority. I'm mad that you didn't encourage me the way I needed and I had no words to tell you. I'm mad that you didn't encourage me the way I needed and I had no words to tell you. I'm mad that when I had the words to tell you I was too worried about your reaction and getting in trouble. I'm mad that I had/have to grow up on my own because you are incapable of being an open mother who is strong enough to leave your shit at the door for me to feel okay about talking to you about hard topics. I feel like you've put this wall between us that I would end up hurting you more trying to break down, so I could have a real relationship with you. I want to be able to talk to you about my relationship, but because you can't get over that we're not married that I feel I can't talk to you because bringing it up would remind you that we're not married and you would make it all about you again. I'm mad that I can't trust you to handle these situations like an adult instead of a child who would throw a fit when shit doesn't go your way.

Also, I'm mad at your hypocrisy. You drink caffiene but have a fit if someone else consumes caffiene in a beverage that you object to. I'm mad that you can't understand or refuse to give me the space that I need to make decisions and learn for myself. I'm mad that you can't give me advice and accept my decision even if it isn't what you want for me. I'm mad that you are too emotionally stunted that dad is the only reasonable parent that I have until he's spoken to you and calmed you down. I'm mad that you can not take proper care of yourself and still critisize my decisions. I'm mad that you blow things out of proportion. I'm mad that I can't trust you to be mature and strong enough to help me if I needed it. I'm mad that you haven't been there for me; sometimes because I can't speak openly with you. I just want you to love me and be proud that you raised a wonderful daughter. I deserve better. I've worked too hard for this shit to hold me back.



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