I know it has been too long since we've really talked. You make it so hard for me to tell you anything about my life, because you are constantly trying to make me into something I'm not. I know you have always wanted a daughter, and I'm sorry I'm not the perfect daughter you always dreamed of. But you always have your son, your angel. The one you constantly compare me with. Naming my faults compared to him. Everything that I ever do is wrong, compared to him. I'm the one who is getting A's and B's in school and he is the one who had to go to the doctor for alcohol poisoning. He is the one dropping out of college. And yet, somehow I'm the one who is being yelled at or ignored.

You somehow make me feel that I am the problem that starts the fights between you and dad, you and "your son," and you and I.

And it isn't my fault that you stayed with dad for as long as you did. You say you are only with him because you want me to have everything that I want. You say you will leave him when I turn 18. 2 more years with an abusive father, and a terrible husband who could care less about our futures and us.

Like Father Like Son. All those times that you came home and I told you that "your son" had hit me, you thought I was lying. Or you just didn't want to believe. But it was the truth. But it is your angel, I know you don't want to know the truth, because that would be a terrible thing to face.

You have not been a terrible mother; you have always been a good mother. I just wish that you would realize that I'm no less then "your son." I'm sorry that you can't see that.

I'm sorry too that I have a "sarcastic mouth and I always have to have the last word," as you say. And I'm sorry that "your son" is giving you a hard time right now. He just turned 18, and wants his freedom. You have to give it to him. I know what you are doing. You are trying to push me away, you told me so yourself. You told me that you don't want it to hurt as much as it did when "your son" went to college in another state, when I go away.

You were my best friend those few months while your son was away. It got better. You stopped comparing me to him all the time. I was the good one then, just like you want. But now he's back, and all of it started over again. We used to go everywhere together. Now it's you and "your son." You don't bother to ask me if I want to go. And I know that you don't really want me to go anyway. You want to spend time with "your son."

Dad wants to spend time with him too. He doesn't like me cause I'm a girl. It's as simple as that. He won't give a "girl" a job because we aren't as good as the male body. I think you should just accept the fact that you married an asshole. I have. I know that you want me to try to get along with him, but I have tried. I have tried my whole life to have a real father, one that loved me. I'm sick of trying to get along with him. He doesn't care, that's the problem. I AM NOT THE PROBLEM. Talk to your husband about it. I cry myself to sleep sometimes; all I want is a family that actually cares.

You are weak. I have learned how to be strong from your mistakes. But I can't help but want someone to love me. You think that I don't know what I want out of life. I know one thing that I want. I want a husband who cares about my family and about me. That saying that you keep telling me about, how daughters look for their fathers in their husbands. Bullshit. I'm looking for the opposite. And to tell you the truth, I want the hell out of this abusive house because I go insane.

I am not heartless and selfish like you say. I treat others how they treat me. But you can't see that because "your son" is perfect in every aspect, in your eyes. I can see it in your eyes when you look at him. But when you look at me all I can see is the disappointment. What did I ever do to make you so disappointed in me? Did I cause that much heartache that you can't show me that you are proud of me?

You say that I can't take a joke. I can. I just know that "your son" isn't joking when he saying things about me. And you laugh. You laugh, and laugh. And get mad at me when I make a joke about him.

I'm sorry that I am the failure of the family. I am sorry that I am the baby of the family. But even though I am the baby, I am 16 years old and I can think for myself now. And I've thought about this a lot.

I'm sorry that you replaced me for "your son's" girlfriend. "Your son's" girlfriend is your perfect daughter I guess. I don't even know why I am in the family. I guess I got placed in the wrong one.

Your foolish daughter,

I love you,