Dear vexatious parents,
I wouldn't even know where to begin with this letter. I feel as though we have been fighting and feuding for most of my life. But, none the less, I am upset about one thing in particular, the fact that you give me so many responsibilities, and think that I am so much more mature than I actually am, but then again I also get babied. It's whatever works best for you really. What about me? What about how I feel? Does that even matter? I mean I know that I'm the child which means the parents are always right, but still, can't the child be right once in a while? You tell me I need to start thinking about my future. That I need to get serious and get a job, that I need to manage my expenses. I don't even have any expenses. You made me this spreadsheet of everything I'll need to buy in the next eight years. How do you know what's gonna happen? I don't even know what's gonna happen tomorrow, and it's my life. How could you possibly know what's gonna happen in my life in eight years, if you aren't living it? Then there's the fact that you trust me with all that and even got me a debit card, but you won't let me buy anything without asking you. Why do I even have this plastic thing if I can't use it without your permission. What kind of sense does that make? You don't even know what it's like to be me. How could you? But I'm just fed up with all of this nonsense. Sometimes I just want to scream at you, "Pull it together people. Don't you see how I can't deal with all of this?" ️️But of course I don't because I am a good child. Although you wouldn't say that most of the time. Pick one or the other, maturity or babying me. So? Which will it be???
Your fed up daughter