A letter from May 14, 2025

i hate it when you talk to me. Because I know what is behind that forced smile, and politely nice voice that you'd normally never use. "What is your brother eating?" Because you hope I'd cook for him. The common, "Are you ready?" turned into chasing me out of the house with ***** threats. And I hate spending my birthday. I love the idea of it, spending it with the people you love and like. But you... It's not your fault, but the way i hear that tone again makes me feel ashamed. "That should be enough right?" or "You don't need to mind over the details that much." Because I know, that you don't think it's that important. Because I know that when I asked you that question, you immediately calculated ways to spend the least money. And I get it. We have a budget to stick to. But it still feels like ******* ****. This is the only time I've hung out with people on my birthday, when my brother threw parties. Maybe it's because our birthdays are in the same month, that after his birthday ended, you'd look at me with tired eyes, I'd see that strained smile again. "What do you plan to do on your birthday?" A simple question. But I hear the hope in your voice, as you wait for my answer. And the relief that comes after, when I say I won't do anything on that day. So to older me: One day when you look at this, I hope you'd get over this feeling and do spend your birthday the way you want to. Don't let their looks and hushed voices be the reason for you to not celebrate. Like come on. I turned ******* 16. Did nothing. 18 is probably gonna be a single happy birthday to me again. :D smiley face but I'm tearing up. ****. But it's always like this. You'd reprimand me before I say what I truly want. Maybe I should be grateful though. I still have a roof over my head. But me personally, I'm gonna work my *** off so my 20th birthday won't be lonely. GO GIRLL