I don’t think I’m ready to write this letter. I think there are still many things to process.
But every time I drift off in my mind, I always come back to the thought that this letter needs to be written – to you.
It comes up almost every day. And I haven’t done anything about it – until today.
I just want you to know that this is not the first letter I’ve written to you. I’ve written a few. And I’ve also written a few back to myself from your point of view, what I think you would say.
Back then, that was enough. I didn’t need to show you the letters, didn’t need to express everything the way I felt. I understood what was going on inside of me, I saw the process unravel for myself, and that was all I needed.
Today, I realize I still have things to say, things I’m not sure I can understand and figure out on my own.
To be honest, a part of me wants to hurt you, so you can know pain, our pain. I want you to feel it because maybe it’ll give you a reason to come back down to earth and reevaluate who we are to you, who you are to us.
I want you to know my frustration, my fears, my perspective. I want you to know how bad I want to respect my dad, how much I want to like my dad. I love you inherently because of blood and because nothing irreparable has gone down between us. But at this time of my life, I would like to know what it’s like to not harbor dislike or ill will against you. I would like to remember you as a reason for my good, not an obstacle to it.
Perhaps that’s a lofty endeavor – I’m sure there will always be something that makes me roll my eyes (you know how good I am at that). But at some point, I got willing to disrupt the current peace to reach for a higher one. I’m willing to rip off the rug we’ve been sweeping all of our shit under so we, or at least I, can feel some relief.
Some may say this is one of those things I need to process on my own, that I need to humble myself before my father. I like to consider the first series of letters my humbling. It was good – back then. I want to have a conversation with you, father to daughter, person to person.
Because I think I deserve some peace on my terms. I think I have a right to some freedom, even if all of this letter results in nothing substantial. Even just using my voice is enough.
So with this voice, I want to tell you…..
In everything, I say with my honesty. It’s the only thing I have. I won’t lie and say it’s out of love. I don’t know if it is. I just know that I deserve to live a freer life. I choose to. Just like I know you can choose to as well. I have no expectations from you. You can continue to live the way you so desire. I say that with full integrity because that’s how I live. I do it, so you can too.
I’m not asking for a sorry. I’m looking to let go. I’m looking to choose my freedom. My writing this letter is my giving myself permission to be free, just as you are free to do you.
Perhaps this letter could have been avoided if we had the kind of relationship where we could talk about these things. But we don’t. I’m not bitter about that.
If you’d like to talk after reading this, I’d love nothing more. If you want to dropkick me, I totally understand. We are coming from two completely different generations and cultures. It would be ludicrous for us to be on the same page.
I guess I’m crazy enough to believe it’s possible.
I know this is quite unsatisfying but I wasn’t going to post anything at all today lol or I was just going to post a little blurb that I did my 500 word count privately so people knew I’m on track with the 100 day writing challenge. I didn’t want to share the whole letter, which has yet to be completed, so I worked out a middle – post an excerpt.
I feel extremely vulnerable. I’m sure my dad would definitely want to sucker punch me for posting this. I don’t post this out of disrespect. The amount of thought and emotion that goes into this thing tells you how much this means to me. I post this because I’m in the middle of a 100 day writing challenge, and I don’t have the bandwidth at this time to keep with the challenge and draft a separate letter.
Thanks for reading.