Dear Mom,

Do you think your words are lost on me? Each are a bruise on my heart. I used to be that little girl. She couldn’t help herself. She had no one to hold her, no one to comfort her. She had to console herself. She couldn’t trust anyone. She had no one to run to. I don’t know how that little girl became so strong and brave. But I see you for who you are. I’m strong enough to know it’s not my fault that you’re mean to me. It’s you. I guess you beat me down so low I had to make a choice. I could’ve taken that big handful of pills but instead I rose above you.