TW: alcoholic, manipulative, transphobic
I open the door and walk into the room. You're the only thing in there, however, the only thing I cared to notice. The room could be empty except for you as far as I know. I can't feel anything but rage.
Pure rage. Anger, resentment. Disgust. You're the man I hate most, and I can't quite put my finger on why.
Is it because of your problem with alcohol? Disappointment in you from when you let yourself drink enough that when we came home, you're laying on the floor puking seemingly black-red liquid, and saying not to call the hospital.? Or maybe from how you made my mother hand wash the clothes in the bathtub and made us hang the clothes out on cables and shit to dry, even when the clothes would ice over in the winter because we didn't have a working washer and dryer...but when her mom offered to drive her to the laundromat, you wouldn't give my mother the money for the machines?? Maybe it's how you've been manipulating my mother your whole marriage, ever since you proposed to her?? Claiming that you "thought it would motivate her to find a job."
Y'know, you really are a piece of shit. You had the money for us to wash our clothes like any modern human would. You had the money to buy more than just the same foods and us basically stretching it out for as long as we can. You prolly could have had the money to take us to get new clothes. From anywhere.
Maybe it's better that you hoarded it all though, because it sure gave you quite a cushion for when you got laid off of work and then moved out of state. It's the only way you paid the rent and bills to keep us in that house for that long. The way you had enough money to move states and quickly live in your own home and pay those bills for as long as you did before finally getting a job.
The final point as to why I might resent you so greatly?
"But you'll always be my baby girl."
You bringing in wanting to change your legal name as a teen due to cultural reasons. You saying I'm shitting on your culture by saying it's not the same as your kid wanting to go by a different name because the other name makes them want to rip off their skin. As your kid feeling disgusted in their body and NOT in the average teenager way. It's because they're trans. Changing your name because of culture is not the same as changing your name to fit your gender. If you're gonna invalidate that, you could still be trying to call me your boy.
Y'know how you refused to call me Alex, literally one letter different than my dead name, when I asked you? Before I came out- Yes, and then when I did finally feel like I could come out to you, you INSISTED that you can call me Alex. Saying that it was still a femenine name, even though when you refused to use it before, your excuse was that it was "too masculine" and that it was "a boy's name."
I wanted a smooth transition to start towards me being called the name I want, and you shut it down completely. I never said I wanted to be out to the whole family either.
There was no reason for you to tell me that my "poor Nana's heart couldn't handle it." I'm sorry that your mother is an old, white, Christian woman who lives in Mississippi and is comforted by her own closed mind. I never suggested that I wanted her to know. You're actually a bit of a douche.
I quickly shut the door between the both of us, hiding my gaze from resting upon your ugly mug. I can't stand the thought of you, let alone the sight of you. I'm glad to be walking away from that door, just to get as far away from it as I can before being forced back.
