The Truth Is You Hurt Me
The letter I wish I could post
Dear (I don’t know what to call you),
This is a letter that I've always wanted to write, but never had the balls. For whatever reason, I felt you didn’t need to know about my lifelong anger for you.
I wanted to make out I was okay, but I wasn’t.
I was never okay.
You fucked me up.
You fucked me over.
Yet, in retrospect, why shouldn’t you be privy to the struggles I have endured for a big part of my life because of the abandonment I felt from you?
You were shamed by me, and even asked me to pretend to be your cousin or friend, so that your new family wouldn't know about your old life.
You denied everything about me.
You were never proud of me.
You never knew, or even acknowledged my gifts and talents.
You told me I was too big and ugly, as you pointed at my hands and nose.
You never congratulated me, and you never praised me.
You told me as a young teenager, "You're on your own when you reach sixteen!"
You never knew me.
Sometimes you told me you loved me, but you were always drunk at the time.
I have never asked for your help, I knew what the answer would be. But that one time, when I was in the gutter of life, the Christmas before everything got a whole lot worse for me and I was arrested, I found the courage to ask, but you ignored my desperate text for three days and then replied with a generic, ‘Happy New Year.’
If you ever happened to fall upon this letter, I need you to know that my heart ached terribly. I cried so much that now I have no tears, I have used them all up.
My heart isn't able to feel you anymore, not now scar tissue has sealed it all up.
Your ‘daughter’
©Chantal Weiss 2025. All Rights Reserved
About the Creator
Chantal Christie Weiss
I write memoirs, essays, and poetry.
My self-published poetry book: In Search of My Soul. Available via Amazon, along with writing journals.
Tip link: https://www.paypal.me/drweissy
Chantal, Spiritual Badass
England, UK
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Comments (3)
- "Sometimes you told me you loved me, but you were always drunk at the time." - this hurts to read because I relate to it so much. Sounds like my father. May your healing continue to shed you of embedded pain, layer by layer.
"This letter pierced through me. The pain, abandonment, and honesty in your words are gut-wrenching — but also so incredibly brave. So many people carry the weight of unspoken wounds from a parent who should’ve shown up and didn’t. By writing this, you didn’t just reclaim your voice — you gave others permission to feel, to grieve, and to speak their truth. Your vulnerability is a form of strength, and I hope healing continues to find its way to you. You deserved better. You still do."
It takes guts to put this out there. You can feel the pain in every line. I hope writing it helped you release even a little bit of what you’ve been carrying.