Dear Mom and Dad,
I love you. Please, never doubt that that is true. No matter how angry I get, how much our views may differ or how much I may disappoint you, I love you just as much as I know you love me. Life hasn't always been kind to me; in fact sometimes it was flat out malicious. But you've supported me through so much. Through confusion and depression, through anger and through hatred.
You were there for me in my last two years of high school, the hardest years of my life thus far. You were there for every tear cried, every time an insult or slur was thrown at me. You reminded me that what those boys said wasn't true, no matter how many times they repeated it. I was a whore, I was stupid, I was worthless and unlovable. But you proved them wrong.
You were there when I wasn't sure who else was. When all three of my best friends decided that my torment must not matter very much because each of them dated one of my harassers during eleventh grade. And then I was alone. I would listen to them regaling tales of funny, inside things that had happened on their date nights. Date nights that I had spend alone because I had no one.
You were there when the school turned on me. When they chose their reputation over me. When they decided that since they couldn't stop the harassers, they would stop me from letting anyone know. When they suspended me for disrupting class because I had broken down in tears after they told everyone that I charged a dollar for a blowjob and extra to let people watch, you came and picked me up and let me know you were there for me even when I was too ashamed to tell you, or anyone, exactly what they'd said.
I don't always show it because I don't know how, but I love you and I am so grateful that you are my parents.
Love,
Zoe
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