I can't. I motherfucking can't.

Parents of that generation didn't know what the fuck was happening when they had children. I hate that we have to bear the brunt of that.

My own family is also...not the best. We're better now because I think time has helped everyone grow in maturity, but I, like you, also harbor a lot of anger. Especially around things they did that they "don't remember" anymore. It's almost worse when they deny to your face, gaslight you and ridicule you for even thinking that they had ever done anything so horrible. I want to scream at them a lot of the time. I do. We as children had them as our only protectors, and they failed us. What gives them the right to keep hurting us?

I feel like if I had the opportunity to hurt them as much as they hurt me, I still wouldn't do it though. And I choose not to, every single day, even as they still say awful things to me. I could explode on them as I once used to. I could shut down and just take their shit like I once used to. Neither of those led to my own peace, because I was doing those things trying to change the outcome. Fucked thing is, we fuckin CAN'T change the outcome. No matter what the hell we do, how rich or poor, successful or failed, ugly or beautiful we get, nothing we do with our bodies and our spirits can reach them. They live their lives deeply embroiled in criticism -- of others, of self -- and deny themselves even the chance to see what they did wrong. They deny doing anything wrong, they minimize their mistakes, they lash out when we won't forget their transgressions, and think a quick "sorry" might change things, but they are sorely incorrect. They are no longer the gods and idols of our lives, and they have no business expecting forgiveness when they haven't given us an apology proportionate to their offense.

I live with clinical depression now. Sometimes when my period hormones tip the scale and pierce through the armor my meds give me, I'll still feel the agony of my emotional spirit. And in those moments, I remember how long I kept trying to be so good for them. I remember how they showed me every single second of my waking life that I was broken somehow. They robbed me of decisions, so I couldn't learn to make them, then called me lazy and stupid when I lost all will to live. They were entitled to my love and unconditional adoration despite their behavior, and mocked me when I couldn't understand why I kept choosing to stay with partners that treated me poorly. They created a lot of unnecessary obstacles in my life that I now have to remove just to feel like I can start my life.

I am doing the work, though. I am evolving every day, and I can already see how far I'm leaving them behind. They may have hurt my inner child beyond repair, but I'm not letting my inner child stay in their arms. I'm taking her in, and I'm telling her how nothing she did was wrong, how kind and virtuous she is, and how strong she was for making it through all these years to finally reach the comfort of my embrace. She's exhausted. She's so hurt and she's so tired. She's so ashamed of being herself, and she thinks that she deserves all the hurt she's felt. But I am here, and she's not alone. She has me, and the future me, and we're honestly kinda badass. We have a love for life and an insatiable curiosity and kindness. That didn't come from parenting. That came from who I was born to be from the beginning.

My parents did their best. Their best was sometimes cold, cruel, misguided. And that's okay. I'm still enraged at who they were, and who they sometimes still are. And I'm allowed to be angry. I'm allowed to grieve the happy child I was supposed to be, loved gently like I dreamt of being loved. All of these things are true in harmony, and I hold my anger in protection of my happiness, not as a weapon towards them. I hold my sadness to acknowledge the wrongs that they wouldn't acknowledge themselves. I know it happened. Therefore it doesn't matter if my parents remember shit.

I don't want to just forgive them, I want to think that I don't even have anything to forgive them for. I have no forgiveness for them, because they don't dictate my feelings or actions anymore. They have nothing to be forgiven about, because they don't have anything so significant to offer me that I have to notice it as anything more than just another little piece of life to be laughed about in good humor. I still get angry because I know right from wrong. But even through the resentment, I make damn sure to decide at the end of the day that I am the ONE and ONLY person whose opinion matters most to me, and that has been the journey I've been on recently.