Dear Mom and Dad

Dear Mom and Dad,

I know it's weird writing this letter to you guys because your just the perfect parents and you can do no wrong. Well, news flash, you're not perfect. Not even close. Obviously you're my parents so clearly, I love you. But love is a funny thing. It comes with hate, sadness, doubt and insecurity. You have caused me to feel everyone of these and, sometimes, all at the same time. Do you know how that feels? I'm gonna have to say no.

Do you know what it feels like to always be put last in the family? Everyone else is always put before me. Yes, I understand you have other children. Yes, I understand that Adam has problems and needs special attention but I deserve some attention too! I can't be put on the back burner all the time. How many times have you rearranged MY life for Adam and Melissa? A million. How many times have you done that to them? Two, Three times? You make me feel insignificant in this family! So, I sit in my room by myself and try not to bother you. That's when you yell at me.
"Jess you need to get out more!! Your lazy, go do something"
So, I go over a friends house or I go out to the mall or something. Then you just yell at me some more.
"Jess you're never home anymore. You're always gone!"
I can't win with you people.

A really great example just came up. Dad, you just put Melissa, a seven year old, in charge because "She's the only one who hasn't disappointed" you. I'm sixteen. I'm not going to be a perfect daughter but that's no reason to treat me like a warm pile of dog sh*t you have to go out in the rain to pick up.

I admit, Adam is talented. WAY more talented than I could ever hope to be. He plays the drums better than anyone I've ever met. Yes, that includes Jamie, the drummer to The Pretty Reckless but that doesn't mean you can treat me like a talentless hobo. I'm not hopelessly talented. I learned to play bass and sing because I knew that would make you happy. Yeah, I like doing those things but if we had a musical family would I be doing that stuff? No, probably not. I'm trying to be more open about singing but you make it hard for me.
"Jess stop. You're voice is giving me a headache"
Ten minutes later
"Jess we are SO supportive of you!!"
Bull sh*t.
"Jess you should start taking singing lessons again if you want to be in Adam's band"
Ok dad. Cool thanks. For the record, I couldn't give two sh*t's about the stupid band. I was forced into it.

Whenever people come over all you talk about is Adam. Adam this and Adam that. I know you love him most but you always talk about how perfect Adam is and then go on talking about all the bad things I do. IT'S NO WONDER THE WHOLE F*CKING FAMILY HATES ME. If people ask about me, you'll find some way to relate it back to Adam. You talk about band 24/7.
"Oh yeah, they need a singer but nobody good has signed up, they always have sucky singers"
*Side note, I've done band twice. Not once did they talk about me. If you're telling a story, on the rare occasion, that's good about me, you find a way to steal the spot light.
"Yeah, Jess got to meet her idol but WE got to go to the VIP section for FREE and hang out with cool people like Mike, from that radio station."

All of my friends love you guys for some reason. Maybe because they don't see what goes on when their not around. I wish I could live with Nicole's family or Natalie's. Maybe I'll live in the tree fort or run away and live by my self, where you won't be able to put me down anymore. My walls have taken a lot of damage from my release of anger. I've carved things in my closet wall, kicked holes next to my window, threw my phone at the wall, which by the way, is still dented.

Last of all, I'm sick of being put down, yelled at and ignored. Tonight for example, I didn't eat because you made everyone food that they liked and things that I didn't like but it's okay because according to you mom, I can afford to not eat dinner for a night. The things you say hurt. When any parent doesn't pay enough attention to you, it brings out a feeling of worthlessness. I guess that's all I have to say. Who knows, maybe you'll find this letter and actually understand how I feel and make an effort to fix it.

Yours truly,
Jess