[In a mocking tone] Don’t talk to boys. Make sure you get your homework done cuz you gotta graduate. Life is rough, make sure you set yourself up to be better than me. You know what? I’m tired of silently listening to you spit a bunch of bullshit to me. I know what the hell I’m doing. You don’t have to give me any advice about life at all whatsoever. I got this. Because when I got into high school, I did it on my own. When I had my first boyfriend, I dealt with it on my own. When I almost failed, I fixed that shit on my own. My mom was in the hospital for a week straight two years ago, and you wanna know who got me and Donte up for school at 5:30 every morning? You wanna know who made sure we ate dinner every night? You wanna know who made sure the house was kept in order? Me. I did. With no help from you at all because you wanted to do whatever with some girl or get high with your stupid ass friends and you were too busy to check in on your own fucking kids to make sure we was straight. Why should I listen to anything you have to say? You were never there for me when I needed you most! I’ve been getting bullied since I was young. [Mimicking the school kids] Destiny, you’re ugly. Destiny, why do you have such a big nose? Destiny, how come we’ve never seen your dad? I’d look in the mirror and pick apart everything I could about myself. You would’ve never known. You left me wondering for years about whether or not I was worthy of love because before I could even grow up and do anything to make you mad, you left like a fucking punk. I’m so unbelievably tired of this man. And then you have the audacity to look at me funny when I’m not tryna call you dad.
Do you know that I developed depression because of you? Do you know that at twelve years old, I would sit alone on my bed, staring at my ceiling, tears streaming down my face, wishing that my life would end. Clearly, I wasn’t good enough for you, so what makes me good enough for anybody else? At thirteen, I would ignore stop lights and not care about walking in front of moving cars, because I ultimately wished they would hit me and put me out of my misery. At fifteen, I started dragging razors across my body hoping that just once I would hit the right vein and my life would be over for good. I’m pretty sure you didn’t. Because you never ask, nor do you care enough to listen.
They put me in a hospital and I deadass could’ve went crazy. I was locked in a room by myself all day for a week straight. When I came out, I couldn’t eat with a knife or a fork. They thought I would try to hurt myself with it. I was in that facility for an entire month. While I was in there, I did a lot of thinking. About my life, about my family, about my friends, about myself, about the shit you put us through. I left that place feeling like a new person, but of course, you knocked me back ten steps to where I originally started. But, I am not allowing you to have that level of control over me anymore. I don’t care that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, I’ve been surviving long enough on my own without you. Don’t try to pull that “I’m your dad” shit on me cuz I don’t wanna hear it. You can either take what I’m saying or leave it. But I know one thing is, I’m fucking leaving.