Dear Bitch: Here’s Why I Hate You

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Dear Bitch,

I hate you. You told people I was lying. You said I was being “dramatic.” You made sure everyone saw me as unstable instead of abused. You turned my family into strangers. They ignore me now — not because of me, but because of what you did. One of them said even talking about me is uncomfortable.

You wouldn’t go to therapy with me. You wouldn’t even listen. You just kept rewriting the story until you were safe and I was erased.

So here’s the truth: I’m not kind anymore. Not to you. I don’t want your voice near me, and I sure as hell don’t want your disgusting fugly putrid cunt old-ass bitchwhore face on my screen. 

When people ask how we are, I tell the truth: you refused to go to therapy with me because I’m a dramatic liar, so we no longer speak. 

🗣️ I miss you everyday, and I still love you because I did come out of your fallopian tubes after all... but, you’re a crazy bitch who ruined my life, and I know I’m better off. I don’t like to do it, but in order to protect myself from the damage you cause, I must now hate you. Ordinarily I don’t want to hate people, but it’s okay to hate bad guys, and you’re def a bad person no matter what mental gymnastics you pull on me. Okay fuck you bye. 





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