Dear Diary… My Mother Hates Me

Dear Diary,
My mother hates me.
My very existence irritates her.
My semblance to my dad haunts and humiliates her.
My very being stings and insults her.
My mood swings she finds disrespectful,
When, honestly, it’s a cry for help.

I am struggling,
Fighting these invisible battles with myself,
And the need to find myself.
The battles where I choke on my saliva,
From trying to drown the sounds of my silent sobs,
So my little sister doesn’t hear.
The need to be happy,
Without owing it to another human,
Or, worse yet, a boy.
The need to feel loved,
When even my own doesn’t love me.

Dear Diary,
I hate myself.
If I can’t be loved by my own mother,
Why should I love myself?
The way I look,
I’ve come to accept and live with.
It’s not like I can afford a forehead reduction surgery,
Or rhinoplasty, or a facelift, or a BBL,
Or a liposuction—
Or any of the other things those boys say I need.

Dear Diary,
Did he leave me because I was too annoying,
Or did he just get bored?
Was it another girl?
He saw every inch of me.
Physically, mentally, and emotionally.
He saw me raw, unfiltered, and organic;
My dark sides, my bright sides,
The parts of me that make me stand out and the ones I hate.
The aspects I wish I never had and the ones I’m proud of.

My dependence doesn’t just stem
From the fact that he saw me,
But I also saw him—
For exactly who he was,
Or at least… Who he showed me.
But he still chose to leave.
Could he have left,
For the same reasons my mother hates me?
Am I so ugly underneath all the fake smiles and corny jokes?

Dear Diary,
Was I always like this?
Broken before I understood words.
Did I inherit my mother’s pain,
Passed silently through her weary stares?
Or did my cries for love dissolve,
In the echoes of her unresolved battles?

Dear Diary,
Do you hate me?
If I told you everything about me,
Would you stay forever?
Will you hold me,
And assure me that everything will be fine,
When I’m having a dark night?
Do you love me?
Can you love me?