Dear Mom,
I have tried to carry this quietly for so long, but the weight of it grows heavier every day. I need you to hear it. I need you to understand not to defend yourself, not to explain, but to simply hear what it felt like to be me, your child.
I was just a little girl. Just a tiny, fragile soul who longed for love. Love that was soft. Love that was safe. Love that felt like home. Love that whispered, I see you. I am here. You are enough. But that love… that love never came.
I learned to tiptoe through the house as if every step could trigger a storm. I learned to read your moods like a book, decipher every glance, every sigh, every tremble in your voice. I learned to hide my tears, my fear, my heartbreak, behind a smile I didn't feel, behind laughter that didn't reach my eyes. I became a shadow in my own home, shrinking so that your anger would pass me by.
I remember sitting on my bed at night, hugging my knees, whispering to the darkness, hoping it would answer back.