By Anonymous
I come from waking up to my parents arguing. A family that pretends to be happy, but as soon as that door closes they can’t stand each other.
I come from growing up scared to talk to my mom, knowing if I say something that she doesn’t like then I’ll get slapped.
I come from being the youngest of three.
I come from if I don’t wear pink dresses or skirts, I’m not a girly girl.
I come from my dad not spending time with me because he is always working.
I come from having an older brother who will beat up any guy I talk to.
I come from walking home at night because my parents are working.
I come from having to choose which parent I want to live with.
I come from choosing which parent I want to spend the rest of my life with.
I come from having to lie to my mom about who I’m with and where I am.
I come from preferring to be at school than at my house.
I come from Culver City.
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