I am 25 and I know what's right for me. I do not belong to that group of youth who spend their money over party and make-up. I know how tough it is to earn and throughout the years I have made myself strong enough to take in the hard reality. Can you remember the time when you were my age? I know the stories about the mistakes you made at that age and don't wish to repeat that in my life. Mom, I know you got married at early 20's but I don't want to. I am seeing how you are wasting your brains in that kitchen every day. I don't want it. I wish to have a name that will be my identity. I don't wish to borrow a surname just because I am married. I don't wished to be judged by my husband's status or financial strength. I know you believe marrying me to a rich person or family will make me...
Family
God made me beautiful. My face, exactly how he wanted it to be, is perfect. Yes, there are pimples and blotchy spots sometimes, but that's normal. I am a teenager. And as a teenager, insecurity comes in floods. If my eyebrows aren't just right, or my pimples won't go away, or my hair gets frizzy, it makes me insecure.
Teens from every place and every generation know the feeling. And the fact that I still feel beautiful and I am confident with how I look is something to be proud about. You should not make me feel like I'm not pretty enough to be seen with you or even be in your presence. You should not cover my face with make up when we take family pictures. You shouldn't not make me feel like makeup is the only way I can look beautiful. You should not tell me that everyone looks better...
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A open letter to my dads new girlfriend...
i dont hate you, but i do. I hate the fact that your his world. I hate that he spends more time with you than his family. I miss being his little girl. I miss when me, my mom, little brother, and him would go on trips and take family pictures. The past is the past. I remeber wishing for years on my birthday while blowing my candles out that my parents would be together again. i soon realized that it would not happen. I dont hate you, i hate the fact that your his world now. I hate the fact that when i spend time with him your there. I miss my dad. I wish how things use to be. You are his prized possetion. I remember when he would always make facebook posts about me saying how proud he is of me, now all i see is just you. You have a great...
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You recently moved out of our family home. I miss you but I am so proud of the woman you are becoming. I am proud of your artistic ability and your independent nature. I am proud that you are respectful to people who have earned your respect.
I hope you laugh every day.
You will always be my firstborn, my first experience as a mother. In many ways, that makes you so special. I remember the fear as I held you as a newborn. The immense responsibility of caring for another human being wasn't real to me until I held you in my arms. In that second, I was filled with doubt and fear. I wanted you, more than anything. But, I was afraid I would really screw it up.
But I didn't. You are a wonderful human being. You make people laugh and you care about people. You are not vicious or...
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Dear annihilator of my family,
Does this ring a bell: “You witch! Where did you hide those bottles? Tell me now!”
You might have forgotten these words, ‘father’, but they have not escaped my memory. This happened that fateful night when you walked out the door, and never returned.
Was it fateful? No. Was it good? I cannot decide.
One night, 20 years ago, when I was 7, you came storming into the house with an empty bottle in your hand, shouting and hurling curses, I could see you rummaging through the cupboard, desperately looking for some more bottles to empty. When you could not find them, you screamed at my mother and thrashed her for hiding alcohol, abusing her and hitting her with anything that you could find. Finally, you left and we never heard from you.
I was very...
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Dear Mom,
I don’t say this nearly enough: Thank you.
Thank you for all of the important lessons you taught me. Thank you for always loving me, even when I felt like I didn’t deserve it. Most of all, thank you for being the female mentor I never realized I needed.
You taught me how to be confident.
As I sat on your bed as a five-year-old girl and watched you get ready, I noticed every little thing you did. I watched you smile at yourself in the mirror. I watched you take a second to appreciate all of your features. I watched you, and I learned from you.
You always know what to say.
From helping me get over the mean girls in gym class to calling me everyday in college, you are always here for me. I can talk to you about anything and everything, and you’ll be here...
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Dear Mom,
It has been way too long since I have taken time to sit down to write you a letter. I'm actually not sure I have ever written you a letter. And I am one hundred percent sure you have never been the subject of my blog. Sure, we chat when we are together and we have pleasant phone calls discussing this and that, but often that is surface stuff. Nothing wrong with surface stuff, I'm engaged, you're engaged, we laugh, I cry (I am working on toughening up a bit), it's all good. We are great at surface stuff like what's going on with the kids, what trips we have planned and what crazy stuff is happening in the world (You might recall, you have to remind me what's going on in the world since I closed my life to newspapers, radio and television years ago. Thank you for the updates)....
2,546
Growing up, acceptance was a big thing in our family. Not the acceptance of others, but whether you accepted the things your daughters did or said. The first thing I remember learning when I was growing up was that Mom and Dad had to be proud of me, that I couldn’t screw up anything because they wouldn’t accept it. I mean if I didn’t have all A’s, I would have to fear Mom’s wrath. I remember being terrified of her. However, I don’t remember hearing anything about race, religion, or sexuality. These topics weren’t things that my family openly discussed, and I had no idea that people of different skin tones were different in any way. I had no idea that there was any other religion other than Christianity, and I had never heard the word “gay” until my 6th grade year. Maybe it’s because they...
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First, I’d like you to be aware that I do not hate you. There are times that I want to.
But who my father is has nothing to do with who you are. And I barely know you, and I cannot hate a person I barely know.
However, there are a few things I want you to know.
He treats you better than he ever treated my mother. That is not your fault. Still, when I saw that he’d bought you flowers, I tried to remember a time when he’d bought flowers for my mother. I couldn’t.
He listens to you more than he listens to his daughters. He interrupted my sisters and me during Thanksgiving dinner to continue talking to you. I don’t think he noticed. He just cares more about what you have to say.
He happily spends money on you, but complains about paying child support. My dad’s salary is...
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Today I received a text message from my step-children’s mom. I expect a phone call tonight.
I expect. That phrase alone makes me blood boil. You expect a phone call. From your kids. Who were abused. Who are now going back to you because of a judge’s unethical decision.
I have lived and breathed custody cases for the last 6 years. A decision was made yesterday that destroyed my entire belief system. My wonderful, beautiful, smart, and sensitive, physically and sexually abused in your care, step children whom I have cared for with open heart while caring for my own, are being sent back to you. You who denied the abuse for three years. You who fought us every step of the way when we asked for them to remain in a safe environment. I responded by asking for an apology. The texts I...
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