I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something for a while now. I don’t know how else to start so let me just cut right to the chase:
I hate so many things about you Mom. I really do. I hate the fact that you feel entitled to criticize everyone in your life because they have chosen a different path from you. I hate your intolerance. I hate your inability to control your anger. I hate feeling sorry for you. I hate it when you do your best to make me feel guilty about the decisions I have made in my life and the kind of person I want to be. I hate it when you scream and yell things that are intended to hurt me. I hate your hypocrisy.
All my life, I’ve been walking on eggshells. I’ve been patient. I’ve swallowed insults. I’ve apologized unnecessarily in order to assuage your insecurities. I’ve spoken quietly, even as a crescendo of screams and accusations rained down on me and other people I love.
But no longer. From now on you will respect my opinions and decisions. You will talk to me in a calm, rational manner. You will accept me for who I am.
You will do all of these things or you will lose your only son.
Fuck you, you manipulative, angry bitch!
You think just because you are my mother you are entitled to treat me like shit? Let me let you in on a little secret you lonely, pathetic excuse for a human being…you are NOTHING. Let me repeat that: YOU. ARE. NOTHING! The saddest/funniest thing is that you have only yourself to blame. All your screaming and yelling, all your self-righteous bitterness, all your indignant intolerance has driven away your entire family. Including your only son.
Tell me? Does the thought that I will soon be traveling all over the world with nothing but the clothes on my back confuse you? Does the fact that I no longer give a shit about money, status or expensive “things” make you go bat shit? If so, GOOD. That makes me happy.
I have only one thing left to say to you:
Go fuck yourself.