Another Letter I Wish You'd See

Yes. I am aware this all could have been avoided if I had only bowed my head and apologized.

But, I was told to not apologize unless I mean it. Because what is the use of an empty apology?A band aid for a problem that really needs stitches.

We don't see eye to eye here, I know. But, for once I am upset. I am not going to give in to you. For 17 years I've given in to your silly rules and harsh guidelines. You were cruel to 4 year old me. To 8 year old me. 13 year old me. I can only remember a few times when I stood up for myself and only one time when I truly deserved my punishment. Let us step into the way back machine. Let me bring up some painful memories you have suppressed into oblivion.

This will seem ridiculous to you that I remember. But, I vividly do. I could not have been more then 6. It was early in the morning and Molly and I had been playing dress up. We were in her room. Clothes were all over the floor and I was picking another jewel off of the dress-up trunk. I liked to peel the glue off. I liked to play with the colored plastic gems. I was 6. I do not remember the reason you yelled at me. It wasn't because I hit Molly or broke anything. I want to say it was because I was pulling those jewels off. But, I just can't imagine that sparked the conflict that followed. You were furious with me for the rest of the day. You slapped me. Molly was crying. I remember things in a blur. I remember that after you sent me to my room I took my clothes and put them in my back pack and grabbed my teddy bear and walked out the front door. I walked to the end of my street and realized that I was being stupid. I couldn't go anywhere you would not find me. So, I sat with my bear on the edge of my driveway. It didn't take long for you to come outside. I was expecting you to be crying. On TV they were always sad. But, you yelled at me. Told me to try to find somewhere else to live. See if someone else would give it to me as good as I had it. You finally broke into hysterics and gave in. You let me watch My Little Pony in your bed and everything between us was fine again. I wish I knew what was going through your head when you got mad at us as children.

I still think that the Wednesday of spring break when I was eight was one of the worst days of my life. It makes you so angry that I remember. We were going to go to Toys R Us after we got all of our books sorted ready to give away. Molly and I were sorting them in the loft and you starting yelling at us because we weren't done soon enough. I'm not kidding. You were yelling because we didn't sort it fast enough. I'm sure I said something to was borderline rude or sarcastic or "flip" or something because you just exploded from there. We were each sent to our rooms. I started frantically cleaning because, knowing you, anything would set you off. I know Molly was doing the same. Molly's room comes first in the hallway and so she fell pry to your attack first. I remember her scream. I rushed out of my room and yelled at you to stop. This is the first time I remember standing up to you. You were surprised. You were removing everything from her room. It was her doll that you took from her that made her scream. She was still a child whose life was centered around imaginative games with her dolls. And you were taking that away. You hit me and came into my room next and started taking things out. I was crying. You made a nice pile right in front of the stairs of all of the toys we had. With our rooms barren you took our drawers and dumped all of the clothes on the floor. The fact that our drawers were always messy has always upset you. You went downstairs to probably sit on your ass and watch tv. We cleaned. I remember coming downstairs sometime later to beg for forgiveness. I wanted my toys back. I wanted my room back. I didn't want you to be mad anymore. You asked me if my room was clean. (Oh Princess, did you clean up your room?) You yelled at me for something else. (No? Of course not. Why would Princess have to do any work in this house?) Whatever it was, you threw me to the floor. You started screaming at me like I've never known. You picked me up and dropped me back calling me Princess all the while. I don't remember the rest of that day but that pile of toys you used as a reward system. We could get a toy back whenever we didn't do something wrong. Until you got sick of that and just gave it all back.

The only time I remember you getting mad at me for any sort of real reason was when I was in 7th grade. At that point I was terrified of you knowing about any of my bad grades. I could only get As. So, when I got lost in math and had a D on the progress report you were supposed to sign, not report card- no...just the sort of check up that I hate- I knew I couldn't show it to you. You would have killed me. So, in a nervous fit, I signed Dad's name and turned it in. I really should have known she would catch me. She called while I was starting to eat diner- soup. I watched you and remembered your hysterical voice. The food disappeared. You sent me upstairs. I sat and waited for you. Again, I had frantically cleaned my room. You came up and yelled and demanded. I explained myself the best I could through my tears. You told me you were going to call the cops. You told me to run away. I told you I wanted to. Now, I was at fault here. I think you still reacted badly, but I did do something I wasn't supposed to. I should not have signed his name. And for once, your punishment was effective. I will never forge someones name again.

But, this situation is so different for all of those. This is a situation where I am going to argue if there is even a situation. For once, I am going to stay upset about this until you can talk to me like I'm an adult. I wasn't kidding when I said it was abuse. It was. And those were not the only times- oh no. I've learned your scare tactics and as much as I wish they didn't still work on me -they do. You hold all the power. And you love to take away my little freedoms. You are the bully on the playground that has to be bigger then all the littler kids. You have to assert authority over someone you know you already have control over.
Tonight you declared you want utter control over my life.
You have to know where I am every moment.
I just wish I had done something legitimately wrong.
I just don't think it's fair. Recently at least, I have never, ever done something to make you suspect that I wasn't worthy of your trust. Excuse my conceit, cockiness- whatever, but you are lucky. I have never done anything illegal. I have never gotten drunk or high. All because you are stuck in the back of my head censoring my every movement. You already control my every move. I don't need you officially doing it. This is such a stupid week to be having this stupid fight. I keep thinking, in respect of recent events, about the parents who would give anything to have their children again. That father just kept saying how he wished he could tell his son one more time how proud he was of him. I wonder about you sometimes. I don't need your approval. At this point, I just wish you could let me live for me. Why do we bother fighting?It's so stupid. Such wasted breath that leads to futile regret. Can we please just talk about this?
I want to have the little freedom to be able to make the choice that I can go out to eat lunch with my friends after school and come home at 4:30 without telling you. And you can call me if you are worried. I have been making more important life decisions for myself without telling you long before now. You know nothing about the colleges I want to go to. About the things I do at school And honestly, that's more important then all of this. I think I just want you to see the bigger picture. Stop reasserting your authority. It's not a matter of respect. I respect you. But, I'm done with you not respecting me. You are such a child sometimes. You're only power is your voice.
You said you were going to tighten the leash. You pull the leash and the harder the dog pulls the other direction.
You're going to lose me. You're going to force me away. I want to talk about this. I want to talk about this. I will go crazy if you don't give me some freedom to think and make choices for myself.

I'm sorry none of this makes sense. I'm so sad. And so angry. I can't seem to express the problem or how I feel about it.

I don't know what to do. I need to talk to someone about it. I am at fault. I know. But, I really think this is bigger then that. I want to be treated the way I should be. Every person does.
Someone tell me what I should do. Someone just talk with me about this.

Funny, I ask someone to tell me what I should do when all of this is about thinking for myself.