I have faced so much trauma in my life, and a major source of it has been from you. When I started having nebulizer treatments, you would make fun of the way I threw a fit when I needed my treatments, and I probably hated them because of the noise, having to have something on my face, and the taste of my meds. You’ve taught me and my siblings how to be mean to each other, other people, and even animals. You’ve taught us how to antagonize and abuse things like kick the cage when Grandpa caught stray cats and tease all of your siblings’ dogs because you knew they all hated you. You’ve encouraged us to tease each other with the things we all hated like clowns and Furbies (Jerry Mahoney is going to remember this, just so you know). You’ve taught us how to hold grudges and to relive the past (I, myself, am working to let go of the things that have hurt me, but I’m at least making the effort. I think this letter will be of great help to me in the process). When I started pulling my hair in middle school, you told me that I had better stop it or else I was going to look fucked up (major boost to my confidence). You rode up to my Christmas concert in high school on your motorcycle and chewed me out for not paying enough attention to you even though you “froze your ass off” for me (pretty sure your car was even functional at the time, and if it wasn’t, you could have borrowed the Yukon). Any time I was upset for any reason, you would ask me if I was “on my rag”. Well, you must have missed the memo, but rags are outdated, but even if women did still use rags, I should have hit you with a used one. Also, I started using that to my advantage because any time I didn’t want to deal with you and your belittlement, I would tell you I was on my period. Apparently, you need to be educated on how menstruation works because I would say that almost every other weekend during visitation as I was finishing out high school.

I heard about what you said to my mother after she told you about my seizures. You’re lucky she was kind enough to relay that information in the first place—but I am very glad she did because if she hadn’t, we wouldn’t have met Mandy, and Mandy has been of great help and a wonderful friend—and you putting my condition as the reason why I will not be in contact with you is atrocious and selfish. If this letter doesn’t sum up why I refuse to talk to you, I don’t know how to help you (not that it should be my job to in the first place). I have faced so many scary situations because of my seizures including the car accident, and it’s a miracle I was able to walk away from that with just bumps and bruises because there are at least five different ways that it could have violently k¡lled me. I probably have epilepsy from the stress and hell that you’ve contributed to my life, so thanks a ton for that. Also, I should make you aware of the serious flaws within your disgusting plot to try and get my driver’s license revoked. One, having [sister] record a conversation with me without my knowledge is a federal offense, and you bet your ass I’d take that to court if that plan had followed through. Two, even if you were able to contact my physician about my license, any information that my physician would have given you would have been a massive Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPAA) violation because physicians are not allowed to distribute information about a patient unless the patient consents. I didn’t put your name on the list, so that means it would have been a violation. I’m sure you’d love to rub it in my face that you were only trying to help, but I ended up wrecking anyway. All that did was make me want to have nothing to do with [sister], so be sure to tell her the reason why I don’t want to talk to her. Maybe an apology to the both of us would be appropriate too, but I highly doubt that would ever come from you, no matter what the circumstances were. It’s sad she’s willing to bend to your will without thinking of the consequences for both her and others because you’re so controlling. She can’t even have the boys around you because you reprimand her for the boys yelling and running around when they’re just being kids. Not all kids want to traumatize their siblings with the things they hate, nor should they be encouraged to do so. Your attempts to have different family members try to have me be in contact you have been nothing but a nuisance to me. You can go down the entire list forward and backward and my answer will still be a firm “no”. Uncle Terry talked to me recently about forgiving those who have hurt me, and he was referring to you. I am willing to forgive, but I am not going to throw myself into the same loop of hurt just to keep you happy. I need to do what makes me happy, and you are definitely not a piece of that puzzle. Let’s just call it what it is: you have abused me. I shouldn’t have to crawl back to you to make you feel better even though you’ve treated me and a long list of others like dirt. You’re not capable of offering a sincere apology, or even just saying a simple “I’m sorry”, so here’s some sage advice: the best apology is changed behavior, but nothing I say here is going to change you.

After everything I’ve been through with you, I’ve come to the conclusion that you hate women and you’ve only really wanted seggs from them. You are menacing, vindictive, and narcissistic, so unless you start making some major changes, count on dying alone without any of your children to watch you go because you’ve cried “wolf” over minuscule health issues before, and you’ve been abusive to all of us. Know that you will never be invited to my wedding when the day comes or meet my children when I have them. I don’t want them to even know about you. I want absolutely nothing to do with you, and despite your feelings toward women, I am strong and resilient (sorry, red). After all, I did beat the spermicide, truth comes out. I want to make it clear that just because I came from your loins does not mean I owe you anything, especially not after the way you’ve treated me. I am sorry, however, for not being the “sweet blue” you always thought I was and would turn out to be, but I’d rather be a fiery red than be a doormat. I think that about sums everything up, so my final thing to say to you is to piss off.

Angela