How to cope with family

Dear Everyone, I am writing to let you know that you succeeded. The war between you and I has finally come to an end. You won. I let you win. Let me tell you how you won... I let you succeed at every opportunity to ruin me, break my soul that was already broken. You made me feel exactly what my 8 year old self dreaded. A disaster. My 8 year old self would be so tormented to know that she would turn out to be what she is today. I let your words haunt me to sleep every night. "you're ugly", "you're too fat", "your eyes are too big", "the gap between your teeth makes you look cheap", "you're dumb", "you're weak" and the worst of it all "you're not pretty enough to exist". As the tears rush down my face I made myself believe in those words. I made myself believe that is who I am...

I just watched an episode of Fresh Off The Boat. The Grandma had challenged the self perception of the oldest son by comparing him to the "soft" rapper out of the mixed tape of rap that he had created to "ease" her into rap music so that she would be able to enjoy it with him. When he denied her comparative analysis vehemently, she reminded him that he "freaks out" when the gas tank is half empty. The episode concluded this story line with the oldest son taking the car out on his permit license without his grandmother while his parents were out of town on vacation. As you may have already surmised, he ran out of gas trying to prove his grandma wrong and had to walk home. Upon his arrival, his grandma was there waiting for him in the driveway. The oldest son confessed what had happened...

I still remember it, I really do. No matter how many times you pull your hair out over my forgetfulness, I remember walking to the supermarket with both your hands in mine. I remember the gentle laughs and encouraging smiles you shared with me as you left me on my first day of school. I don't want to feel like the bad guy. That's why I hold on to the things that matter and never let go, so no one tells me I didn't care enough to even try. But now when I recall those memories it feels like a punch in the stomach. If only you knew that I locked the bathroom door and cried whenever you criticized me. If only you knew that the countless hours I poured into looking for counseling chat hotlines that didn't cost a penny. If only you knew how isolated I feel, knowing that how much I try, it feels...

There’s really no good way to start this. A lot has happened tonight, and the worst part is, while I’m shocked, I can’t say that I’m surprised. Just an hour ago, my then-boyfriend called me in tears. He said that he had another huge argument with you, over me. He said that it culminated in an ultimatum: either we end our three-and-a-half year relationship, or you disown him. I know that we don’t live in a fairy tale or, dare I say it, some romance movie. I know how important family is to both him and I. It would kill him to lose you. I know that the choice was clear for him, no matter how much it hurt. That isn’t to say I’m absolving him of responsibility - no matter how inevitable these kind of decisions are, they are still a two-way street - but I feel the deepest sympathy for...