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I know you love to blame me for every mistake, every wrong doing and every mishappening that has occurred in your life, but as a mother, do you ever think back and recognize how much of my mental turmoil is the result of your doing?
I was never enough for you. I was never anything worthy to you, was I? Always something that was mediocre, always someone that could be improved upon. My cousin did better in Math than me, my neighbor is chastised with physical harm. I didn't care, they didn't affect who I was.
So then you decided to take it another step further. Now what was it? Things that I couldn't change, no matter how desperately I may have wanted to be able to do so just for you. To be seen as the perfect daughter in your eyes. My skin was far too dark. I was too masculine. I tried everything mum. I tried everything and I tried my hardest to keep it all together and suffer alone, every day wanting to claw off the body you helped create. Every day of my life was worrying about why i wasn't "fair enough" for your standard. I spent the entirety of my childhood trying so hard to please you. I spent endless nights crying myself to sleep, wondering why the shade of my skin could make me so unworthy. You downplayed it as a joke, and would point out how ugly and unfeminine women of my skin tone looked to me and my sister, whilst ensuring me that that didn't apply to me. How do you think that make me felt? When you would describe these women as unworthy monsters, then use the same adjectives to describe your own daughter. Don't you think that's cruel? From the outside of my skin, to the body on which it covered, I was never enough.
As a child, my passion was karate, soccer, bodyweight exercises. "They'll make you be built like a man", "your shoulders will be big", "you have too much muscle it makes you look scary". So I dropped it all. I dropped all my passion for you. I dropped all the things I loved because I loved you more and I thought that loved I garnered for you would have reaped it's reward. But no. I lost weight for you. I lost muscle for you. I lost passion in everything that I ever valued for you. I fucking killed a part of myself for you - to see you happy, to see you proud of my. To know that my body would fit the standards you'd set up, no matter how far-fetched they were, I would achieve anything. An now what? I became a shell of myself and I guess that didn't please you either. You missed the person I once was.
But mum. You didn't. I changed myself because I thought you hated the person I once was. The "manly" girl I once was. And now, after all this effort and almost killing myself in the process, you tell me you want me to change again?
The cycle repeated, I gained weight so that I'd no longer be of your concern. But what did I expect to change? What did I think would happen? Was there a happy ending? Was there a light at the end of the tunnel, when everything would finally settle down? No, I was fooled by the trance of what I thought was motherly love. This is manipulation. Now, now you not only tell me but everyone around me that I'm too chubby once again? I can't live like this. It is not the social media that has ruined me but you.
My intolerable mood swings are the result of your doing. I've deprived myself of nutrition for months on end to make you happy. I've force fed myself - holding back tears of anger and fear for you, I've recovered on my own for you and still, I'm not enough?
What more could you possibly want without me repeating my actions? What more could I even do?
I've given up on you. And this is a reminder to myself to never trust you again. You've hurt me. You've hurt me so much and you've ingrained me to hate myself from a young age. I'm trying to recover from all that pain, but I don't think that will ever be possible with you in the picture. I love you, but you can't be in my life. This is my pre-written message of goodbye. This is my reasoning. What hurts me is my fault. For trusting you over and over again with my heart, for letting your words ever affect me.
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