Hey Mom,
You remember that moment when I slammed the door and shouted “I hate you”? Well, let me clarify: it was actually a compliment. If you had let me finish, I would have said, “I hate you because you’re way smarter than I am, and you always know what I’m up to. You won’t let me have any fun, but deep down, I know it’s because you love me. And that’s what I really resent—feeling guilty for wanting to defy you when I know your rules are for my good.” So, congrats, your parenting tactics worked, even if I pretended to hate them.
I thought I was the adult, but it turns out I was just a confused teenager. Your decisions always prioritized what was best for me, often at the expense of both our feelings. Thank you for being the adult I thought I was ready to be (but obviously wasn’t).
I owe you a heartfelt apology for a laundry list of teenage misadventures: the lunchroom debacle, the “skort” fiasco, the concert incident, and that one time with Sarah. I really hope you’ve managed to forget some of those!
There are so many more things I should apologize for, but since you’re blissfully unaware of most of them, it’s probably best to let those sleeping dogs lie.
Love,
Your Daughter, a.k.a. Your Former Teenaged A-Hole
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