Thank you mother, for making me the miserable wretch I am. Everything I do is wrong to you. I should be looking for a husband, instead of looking at Master’s degrees and jobs that will pay more than minimum wage. Thank you mother, for obliterating any self-confidence I ever had, by telling me that no man will want me if I don’t learn to cook, and clean, and sew, and manage a household “properly.” You seem to conveniently forget that I provide MORE than half the income that pays for your health insurance, medicine, and FOOD. You also conveniently forget that the cost of living these days is higher than a man can earn, and that men don’t want stay-at-home wives anymore.
However, that doesn’t stop you from constantly belittling me, bringing up every mistake I have ever made, obsessing over every negative trait I have, and making sure that I know I possess every negative trait of every horrible person in this family. For making sure I have no self-worth. Thank you, for making the worst financial decisions, endangering our house, and making sure you never had a dime put away. Not only for my college education, which according to you, “Girls don’t need, since they’re going to get married and stay home with the kids.” But for that inevitable rainy day, that came five years ago, when your company downsized and laid you off.
Thank you for taking nearly every dime I earn, making sure I have nowhere to run, and no money to sustain myself, so I’m constantly under your control. Thank you mother, for showing me how strong I can truly be, because once I get my degree and find a second job, my days as your slave are numbered.