I am my parents’ daughter
I have my father’s eyes and my mother’s smile.
I love watching movies like my dad and going unexpectedly shopping like my mom.
As my father’s daughter, I always have coffee in the mornings.
As my mother’s daughter, I always play some music.
I loved being my parents’ daughter until I realized I get angry like my father and anxious like my mother.
That my father doesn’t know how to control his anger and always ends up hurting me or making me cry.
That my mother shouts at me when she’s nervous and asks me to get everything together cause for her, anxiety isn’t an excuse.
As my father’s daughter, I get so angry I scare myself. I don’t let it out and it ends with me crying and feeling destroyed inside.
As my mother’s daughter, my breathing gets too quick, everything gets blurry and my hands shake too much. I try to breathe; I try to calm myself but, unlike my mother, anxiety is the one that controls me.
I am my parents’ daughter. I have angry issues like my father, and I live with anxiety like my mother.
