Dear Dad,

So here is a confession! You haven’t been my hero ever. Neither you will ever be. Was that bitter? Oh yes, so was my childhood, dad. You made it bitter. Yes, you did.

You changed dad. You changed after a while. You were not good to me.

Thanks for turning a chirpy fun loving child to an under-confident, insecure, fearful adult. Thanks for punishing me with all kinds of punishments. Thanks for beating me with all possible equipment for mistakes that were minuscule. Thanks for gifting me with marks on my face, my hands, legs which I carried to school and would hide it by wearing long socks and a scarf on my forehead throughout the day. Thanks for making me stand outside the main door for hours if I came home 5 minutes late from playing. Thanks for making me stand for hours in the balcony in the December cold when I lied about washing hands with soap. Thanks for beating me black and blue when I tried hiding a painting from you. You thought instead of studying, I had been painting.

Thanks for pulling me down each time I tried to scale up in extra-curricular activities in school by saying that those were useless.

I stopped after a point. Thanks for abusing my mother each time she came to stop you from hurting me. Thanks for making me realize that I am good for nothing (though I always excelled academically and in many other activities). Thanks for making me hate myself always. You had made my life so miserable that each day my journey from school to home would be the saddest part.

My grandparents (your parents) stopped coming to our place because they could neither bear the scenes of you beating me nor could they stop you from doing so.

It had become your habit. I was so afraid of you. The term ‘father’ made me tremble. You had made the environment for me at home so harsh just in the name of discipline, that I had started loving my school to the core. I got all the love that I deserved from my teachers and my school principal. I had fallen into the prey of depression. But behold! I could never share the pain that I was undergoing with anyone. What if people start disrespecting you? After all, you were so good to my friends and teachers. Every night I would cry myself to sleep, and you wouldn’t have the slightest idea of it.

You gave me all the amenities but you couldn’t give me happiness.

You have given me the deepest of cuts. Today, I take too much time to start getting along with people. Although everything is normal around me, I still feel I am somewhere wrong. I cannot love myself enough. I have a low self-esteem, although things have fallen into their own places. I am doing the job of my choice. I shall marry the man of my choice (with your consent, though) within a few months.

You no longer scold me or beat me, but you have never shown signs of repentance of what you did to me.

I am no more afraid of you but I can never have a heart-to-heart conversation with you. You know what, I have forgiven you and I promise to become a good parent to my child (if I ever have one). I just hope you realize someday what you have done to me.

~Your grown-up daughter

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