Yes, they sucked, and they pretty much quit being parents when I was 12 and realistcally needed them most, but I really try to rise above it and take responsibility for myself. I am who I am because I made myself that way, and I can be whoever I want to make myself become.

But I do find myself incredibly bitter toward them over one specific developmental failing I’ll never be able to overcome: They never cultivated any of my talents. By the third one, it was no longer important to them if their children were talented. I begged and begged my mother for singing lessons. I always got the solos, and other parents were always telling her how good I was, but somehow she always thought it was a waste of money. And I begged and begged for gymnastics lessons, something I figured out early on I had a natural talent for, but she’d already gone through it with my other two sisters (I would go to their lessons to watch. I was never enrolled.). Neither of these things would probably have taken me very far in life, but it would just be nice to be able to say that I could do something. Something that not everyone can do. It would be nice to know that there’s at least one thing about me that is more than mediocre. I don’t think my parents understood how important it was to me to have something that was mine, that I could shine at. And, sorry future offspring, but because of that, you’re going to be enrolled in everything until we find something that you excel at. Because there will be times when you suck at something, or you feel defeated by something you can’t master, but I want you to be able to think to yourself, “Okay, so I’m not good at this. But that’s okay, because I’m still great at this other thing. I’m still smart, and talented, and a perfectly capable human being.”

Talents give you confidence. Confidence gives you ambition. A complete lack of those things makes you me. My child will not be me.

I wouldn’t be one of those foolish people who insists they’d like to be surprised. I would look at my future, constantly. I’d gaze at it whenever I was feeling stressed or overwhelmed or hopeless. I could live my life. I could breathe easy. I’d do all the work required to get there, and none of the work that would be wasting my time, dragging me down a dead-end path. I could save myself so much heartache, and heartbreak, and disappointment if I only knew. I’m an overplanner, and to only be able to see so far into my future kills me. What if I’m preparing wrong? What if I’m not polishing the right skills? What if I’m wasting my time and my money and my youth?

I am in dire need of a crystal ball.

you’re welcome to do it yourselves. But you didn’t, so I did.

You could have a little gratitude that I even tried to do it. It was in no way my responsibility- I just thought I was being helpful considering it had been a week and you still hadn’t taken care of it. I assumed you were too busy. Or lazy. One of those for sure. But I was sick of waiting.

I hate when everyone is looking at me.

that unintentionally embarasses her children just by being her.

but there is still some etiquette you should follow. You can’t just throw it all out the window because it conflicts with the way you want to do things or your specific circumstances.

how angry you got at me for going on dates with other guys while you were going to bed with other girls. Such different things. Such different levels of betrayal. Especially because mine was months after our break-up. Yours was before the break-up, and all during the months of telling me you still loved me.

And it’s funny to me that you got so angry hearing I had just gone on a date. If only I had told you about the guy I was in a relationship with while you kept insisting we would get back together after summer. And how many guys I was going on dates with. Sensitive little hypocrite, aren’t ya?

we will have all the things we wish we had.

do not get to speak to me.

You do not get to look at me.

You do not get to hit on me, or try to flatter me, or try to make me think that we made a mistake by giving up.

You get to sit in the dark shadows of my past and think about what you gave up while I move far beyond you with someone far better than you beside me.

You get what you told me you wanted.

if you’ve never seen him in the daylight and he’s never bought you dinner, you’re using the term “boyfriend” pretty loosely.

but I do. And I still have to check your facebook periodically, just to reassure myself that you are in fact still a burnt out loser living with your mom and spending your weekends getting wasted. I just need to know that I’m still winning. In the game of life, I’m winning.

Revenge may not be the proper motivation, but it’s what’s keeping me going. I will be everything, and I will be successful at everything because you doubted if I was enough then, and if I could ever be enough. And worse than that, you made me doubt if I could ever be enough. And that doubt made me hungry. Hungry to prove you wrong; to shove your rejection, your biggest mistake, back down your throat. To prove to you that you are trash. Undeserving trash. And I was better than you then, and I will continue to be better than you.

Go ahead, hold my virginity like a trophy. It’s the best thing that will ever happen to you. It doesn’t mean anyone ever loved you. It means you found a lonely girl and are a champion opportunist.

Keep smoking weed, keep spending all your time longboarding and tinkering on piece of shit cars. Keep trying to be a pro-glowsticker, bro. You’re making this competition almost too easy.