Mom, This Is How You Make Me Feel.
You know the great things you've taught me, Mom?
You've taught me not to try
because you will always fail,
no matter what.
And don't argue for what you really, really want because that's stupid.
It's a dictatorship.
Don't fight for your right.
Don't fight for love.
It's not worth it.
The great things you've taught me, Mom.
You know what you haven't taught me?
You haven't taught me how to love –
I learned that on my own.
The things you've taught me really just taught me how to lose my friends,
not keep them.
You didn't teach me to sacrifice –
you taught me to take everything,
don't think twice about everyone else.
Your screwed up, Machiavellian ways are
probably the reason I've lost some people lately.
Your sick jokes.
You don't understand what hurts
until you feel the pain yourself.
Yet when you get angry, it's okay –
you're you.
I'm just that little ant you step on.
It seems like I'm overreacting,
but it's not just today - oh, no.
Let me ask you one thing –
how many times have you said
"I love you" to me in your life?
When I was the perfect little girl, sure,
hundreds of times. Now?
Now that I'm not everything you expected?
Maybe once a month if I'm lucky.
I'm probably the hardest working daughter you could have ever gotten, but you don't appreciate that.
What's the point of me if I don't bring in results,
right?
Your goal is to get me to fear you.
Read a parenting book, or three.
If you want to lose the little love I have left for you, go ahead –
scare the living daylights out of me.
You don't understand that there's a limit.
I can't be perfect.
I either go insane
or I stay the way I am.
If you were a true mother,
maybe you could accept me the way I am
instead of criticizing me.
A mother is supposed to make her child feel beautiful, not ugly. But everyday in this house is a curse.
Your presence makes me want to leave.
And when things go wrong, instead of apologizing,
you send me on a guilt trip.
I don't think you've ever said sorry
to me in your life
because of how stubborn you are.
Don't get me wrong,
I love you.
But only because I have to.
Bribing me with material objects isn't going to work. You have to work much harder than that.
Because right now,
I wish I could have chosen my own family.
And it wouldn't have included you.
You've taught me not to try
because you will always fail,
no matter what.
And don't argue for what you really, really want because that's stupid.
It's a dictatorship.
Don't fight for your right.
Don't fight for love.
It's not worth it.
The great things you've taught me, Mom.
You know what you haven't taught me?
You haven't taught me how to love –
I learned that on my own.
The things you've taught me really just taught me how to lose my friends,
not keep them.
You didn't teach me to sacrifice –
you taught me to take everything,
don't think twice about everyone else.
Your screwed up, Machiavellian ways are
probably the reason I've lost some people lately.
Your sick jokes.
You don't understand what hurts
until you feel the pain yourself.
Yet when you get angry, it's okay –
you're you.
I'm just that little ant you step on.
It seems like I'm overreacting,
but it's not just today - oh, no.
Let me ask you one thing –
how many times have you said
"I love you" to me in your life?
When I was the perfect little girl, sure,
hundreds of times. Now?
Now that I'm not everything you expected?
Maybe once a month if I'm lucky.
I'm probably the hardest working daughter you could have ever gotten, but you don't appreciate that.
What's the point of me if I don't bring in results,
right?
Your goal is to get me to fear you.
Read a parenting book, or three.
If you want to lose the little love I have left for you, go ahead –
scare the living daylights out of me.
You don't understand that there's a limit.
I can't be perfect.
I either go insane
or I stay the way I am.
If you were a true mother,
maybe you could accept me the way I am
instead of criticizing me.
A mother is supposed to make her child feel beautiful, not ugly. But everyday in this house is a curse.
Your presence makes me want to leave.
And when things go wrong, instead of apologizing,
you send me on a guilt trip.
I don't think you've ever said sorry
to me in your life
because of how stubborn you are.
Don't get me wrong,
I love you.
But only because I have to.
Bribing me with material objects isn't going to work. You have to work much harder than that.
Because right now,
I wish I could have chosen my own family.
And it wouldn't have included you.