Letter 3: to my parents

Dear mom,

I originally started out this letter by talking about my childhood, but that doesn’t need to be relived.

I don’t have much to say, honestly. Our relationship is so strong. We talk about everything, we keep each other’s secrets.  I will forever be so grateful to you. You help me with everything, and try to decrease any stress I feel. I know we have a very special relationship. I know how deeply you love me. I feel it—I always have.

Dear dad,

People say girls turn in their mother when they grow old. I turned into you. I have every single of your traits. Your strength, your fearlessness, your anger, even your love for alcohol. We think exactly alike. It’s weird to know what you’re thinking all the time, but it’s great too. I know you see through me, too. You can tell when I’m having a horrible day even though I don’t say anything. I hide my emotions from you the most because I don’t want to disappoint you, I don’t want you to see me as less strong. But you see it. You don’t comment, you just take me out: shopping, a restaurant, followed by maybe a drink or two. My favorite thing about you is you’ve always valued my opinion and you’ve never questioned my choices. You make me feel worthy. Even if I were to ask you for advice you’d say something like “you know better than I do, you’ll do the right thing.” You’ve always let me speak my mind, even to family members who would judge the family for it. When I break norms, or say something controversial, or respond to a sexist comment someone said. You defend me. You defend me and my opinions. It feels really good to know you’ll always have my back. And that you ask me for my advice on big decisions in your life, and that you brag about me to everyone you know and encourage them to seek my advice, too. It’s nice to know you see me.