Monday, September 22, 2008

Dear Sister Paterson

I can't put up with your shit any longer. You are condescending, rude, and you search for ways to belittle me and make me feel like I am less than nothing. You rub it in my face that you are holier than thou and such a good Christian. You may read the Bible and go to church, but sitting in a garage all day doesn't turn you into a car. This is the only time in my life I have needed you since I was child. You take every opportunity to rub that in my face. It's funny to me how you can label me as a "squatter," yet your face lights up with delight when you look at the brand new stove I gave you or while sitting down in front of the 32" flat screen TV that I gifted you for your troubles. You make me sick.

The last time I lived with you, I ended up in a mental hospital. Do you want to know the real reason why the doctors denied your visits? They said you were the major source of all my stress. You were the reason my body broke down. It was you. I resent you for everything you've put me through. I feel rage when thinking of you. I cry tears of hate when I remember how you've treated me.

When I was very overweight you turned your back on me. You looked at me with pure disgust. You made fun of how I walked, the clothing I wore, and even told me that looking at me made you want to faint. You told me I would die. I peeked inside your journal. You actually thanked God that I finally lost some weight. Why couldn't you just love me how I was? Why is it that you only respect me when I weigh 163lbs and wear a size 10? Why do I have to starve myself just to receive your love? If that's how shallow your love is, I don't want it.

Would you like to know why none of my friends ever come by to see you? Do you want to know why none of them ever tell me to tell you hello? They hate you. They hate you because they see how you make me feel. They are the ones comforting me and wiping away my tears. You put on a good front around people, but there's a little invention called the speaker. They've heard first hand how you speak to me. They have seen your disapproving stares. They don't like you.

I may live with you temporarily, but you can't control me. Stop telling me what to sleep in, what clothing I am allowed to wear, what time I have to wake up, what foods I'm not allowed to eat, and how to wear my hair. Contrary to your unpopular beliefs, I don't have to do things your way. You can't dictate what method I should use to put away the dishes, how late I can talk on MY cell phone, what ringtones I use or what rooms in the house I choose not to occupy. I am perfectly within my God given rights as an adult to read in the dark, sleep in my bra, close my door, and hang my clothes up rather than fold them. You are an overbearingly controlling nut job. FUCK OFF.

I find it amusingly frustrating how every time I express my heart, you flip everything and make it seem like you are a victim. Just because you are older than me and can quote Bible verses does not make you right. You are dead wrong. You smile and act like you are taking the high road, but I see past your facade. I'm done allowing you to make me feel like I am the bad person. I'm done feeling like I'm the one that's doing wrong. I refuse to keep believing that I am the reason I feel this way. It is you. It is all you and nobody but you.

It's wrong to hate a person, but I hate your actions. I hate how you've made me feel. I hate that I knew about dieting in elementary school. I hate that you taught me to be uncomfortable about my body then condemned me for not being ashamed in my adulthood. I hate that you can't see me as beautiful just the way I am. I hate that you never listened to me. I hate that you tell me daily how ignorant I am. If I was not a spiritual person, my next sentence would be: I hate you.

I still have a lot to say, but I'm choosing to end this letter now. You'll never actually read it and even if you did you would ignore its message. You are so stuck in your "spiritual realm" that you are out of touch with reality. I know you'll never change so I have completely emotionally disconnected from you. In my heart, you are nothing to me. I'm tired of being hurt, angry & confused. I am tired of knowing you. I wish we had never met.

Your Daughter,

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