When I was little you were like my superhero, mama, you meant the world to me. Everytime you would tell me the story about my adoption and how I would always have a family because of you it'd make me feel the luckiest. Then I became sick and needy.. I didn't sleep well, I had trouble eating, and you had no patience. The beating started. And you'd say it was for my own good, to make me stronger, right? Well, no one should be allowed to lay a hand on their child. And you did it over and over again.

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As growing up you put a lot of effort into making me perfect I know, but it was never good enough. I was never good enough. I was supposed to play the piano better. I was supposed to be better in math. I was supposed to be stronger. Instead, I got bullied as hell and all you did about it was saying "you're not in school to make friends, you're there to be smart, if everyone has a problem with you then maybe you're the problem".

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I know your life was never the way you wished for. I know dad wasn't the best husband, we had money trouble, I know you got tired. But you took it on me and it was not my fault. It was never my fault. I wanted us to be close, I wanted you to be my friend too, but you could only see my as a failure even though I tried so freaking hard to be good.

You know how hard it is to be a teenager when you have been a beaten-up-by-your-mum and bullied kid? I was lost, with bad companies and desperated for attention, one that didn't include you telling me in what else I suck.

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When I looked for my birth family, I was so desperated for love. For someone to see me as I am and not tell me I needed to be better. For some sort of comfort... and I found her, and she gave me that, and you blamed it on me your suffering. I had hurted you in a new way and you told me I would kill you. You made me choose, and I chose you 'cause you had been my mom forever, I'd always choose you. It wasn't enough tho, to give up my birth family, to say goodbye to friends you didn't approve, to be the perfect student one more time and get into college. Still no good.

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Then you found out that I wasn't your little angel anymore, I was actually becoming a women, and you slapped me on the face by age 17 and beated me up one more time (for old times) as calling me "a bitch like my mother". That's what I was now: slut. And I went back to college that summer feeling down because my mummy thinks it's okay to call her daughter a skank.

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And you know what the worst part is? I can't hate you. For everyone you are parent of the year. Number one. The one who lives for her kid. But they don't know you don't think of me as your kid, they don't see the disguise, the anger, the mean words; they can't tell how sad you are with your life and how you blame it on me.

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I had to be strong for myself to understand I'm not responsible for your unhappiness. I am a good kid after all. I'm 21, trilingual, graduated from college with honor, liked by everyone, with a great relationship with dad, don't do drugs only drinking socially, have a sex life with by BF not a slut at all, and don't get to pull me down. You don't. I am proud of the person I am even if your not. I fought hard my anxiety, my issues and traumas to get on my feet and feel happy. I won't allow you to make me feel down again. I am good enough. If you are not happy with your life, find someone else to blame this time, not the kid you raised.

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