I’m so tired of pretending to be something that I’m not out of fear. I am not your daughter; nor your sister; nor am I your niece. I am not what you believe I am. I am tired of hiding from myself to make YOU happy, just because you couldn’t love your own children. Your own family. Just because you think you’re the only one who’s right. Just because you think you’re oh-so amazing and you could never do wrong, just because you think your children will follow in your footsteps and become horrible people too. And some of them have, but that doesn’t mean I will. And I’m so sorry you think that way, but if your god is real, was you say he is, you’re probably the one going to hell, not me. You do not make me feel loved. I do not feel safe around you, and I never will. I feel more safe around my friends than my own parent, you. I don’t care if you think I’ll go to hell, I didn’t choose to be like this. I didn’t choose for you to be my parent. If I could, I’d choose anyone other than you. You make me feel terrible, disgusting, and unsafe. You make my blood boil, make my skin crawl. I still love you; I just don’t love the way you treat me, the way you treat others. You’re a disgusting, hateful being. But I still love you. So sure, you can disown me, kick me out, kill me (Although you probably won’t be able to do it before I do to myself) but you will never change anything. Never will change how terrible you are. I’m sorry.