That title is not yours

04/18/2025

Court is in session.

It has come to my attention that you do not care

And in fact, if you did, I would not want you to.

I have heard of the stories of damage done by you,

I have seen the pain you’ve cause.

I have lived through the memories of the trauma

I have cried those tears

Paid those therapy bills

Waved my hand, excusing your behavior for years

And I refuse to continue.

You have become a scar.

And not one of the ones that look cool.

You are a constant reminder of all that I hate about myself.

I understand that there is nothing I can do to change the past.

I understand that there is nothing I can do to change you.

And yet, I still try.

My apologies.

All rise.

May you cry hot tears until they burn tracks down your face leaving third degree burns.

May you spend hours learning how to code with a program that does not work, and never will.

May you try over and over to join robotics teams, apply for scholarships, and apply for jobs that you will never get.

May you receive hundreds of awards for your struggles, only for them all to be a mockery of your well-earned failures.

May you receive every harsh word, every offhanded comment, every single insult, may you receive all of the abuse that I have withstood, only tenfold.

May your father beat you, mistreat you, and know that my feelings are still bittersweet.

For this brings me no joy.

May your children scorn you, like how Absalom scorned David.

A peculiar situation, seeing as David was also one who was to be revered.

May your title of “father” forever remind you of what you have done.

Because just as you said, “you have drawn a line in the sand.”

Don’t call me daughter.