Open Letter, Wounds

August 20, 2009 § 1 Comment

Oh, really, mother? Are you trying to teach me a lesson by withholding the car from me? Are you actually trying to discipline me with your “I don’t trust you anymore”? When was the last time I trusted you enough to tell you anything about myself?

Why don’t you look instead at your son who disrespects you everyday to your face, who doesn’t bother to tell you when he’s not coming home for dinner because he’s too busy with his friends at the skate park, to which you eagerly offer to drive him because he’s clearly the more precious one in your eyes?

I am twenty years old and you still get so frantic when I miss your calls at night that you call my friends to ask where I am?! When are you going to allow me to make my own decisions? How much power do you really have to stop me from doing “bad things”? If I wanted to do them, I could have started a long time ago.

Do you ever get tired of giving me the same lecture on how lazy I am? Know this: the reason I never do anything around the house is because it’s never good enough for you. What’s the point of doing a service if you’re only going to criticize me later? Honestly, how unbelievably picky do you have to be to find fault with the way I vacuum? Are you kidding me?

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