I’m sorry.

But in all honesty, I think you knew.

Maybe it was from the time I started memorizing stories and relaying them back to you rather than actually learning how to read.

Or the countless times you’d find me curled up underneath the dining room table as a child, asleep.

Or maybe it was during my Hop55 obsession when I could literally not stop literally bouncing around the house.

Or maybe it was when I was 13 years old, demanding that I be allowed to date.

How about when I was 9 years old, and I was sent to the vice principal’s office for trying out the Captain Underpants “squishies” IRL with my friends in school?

I think you knew I’d be a hard kid to raise. Not easy, at the very least.

Growing up, I was afraid. I’m still afraid. For a long time, it felt like all I could do was disappoint you.

For a long time, it felt like it was just my nature. I mess up. It’s what I do.

Growing up, I thought you two were certifiably insane. I’ve expressed this to you on multiple occasions, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise. You pushed me way too hard and expected way too much and were too strict and not understanding enough and really just kind of heavy on the tough love. I think the fact that I identified with Olivia Pope when her Dad drilled, “You have to work twice as hard to get half of what they have” into her head, says a lot about your parenting style.

I remember being so jealous of other people’s parents, and how reasonable, they seemed. Why couldn’t I sleep over at a friend’s house at 13? Why did I have to be picked up from movie night at 9 p.m.? Why did I have to text when I got out of school, when I got to the bus stop, when I got on the bus, when I got off the bus and when I got home? What do you mean a 93 percent on my science exam wasn’t good enough? Yeah, my teacher said I was chatty and easily distracted, but she also said I was incredibly smart, Mom! Why are you still going to parent teacher conferences?? I am 17 years old!

Y’all were nuts.

You’re still pretty nuts.

The difference is, now I understand why. Now I can see paranoia vs. protection. I can see support.

You knew I needed the pressure, and I did.

I needed that pressure.

I know I gave you guys a hard time, and I will continue to give you a hard time, but the truth is, I am so grateful to have you two, specifically, as the people who have my back.

Recently, I’ve started feeling like myself again. I feel like I can do things again. I’m proud of the person that I am, and I think that’s largely because of the fact that you’re proud of who I am, too.

Your pride means the world to me.

Every time I falter, every time I think that I just can’t do something, you’re there to let me know that I can. Or to tell me that you didn’t come to this country for this, which is equally as helpful.

I want to thank you. Not just for everything you’ve done already, but for everything you will do. Regardless of how old I am, or how many times you threaten to kick me out of the house (looking at you, Papa Bear) I have no doubt that you’ll be right there with me when I need you, wearing “Number 1 Fan” t-shirts and waving foam fingers at me and shouting advice from the sidelines. You have no idea how much I love you. You really have no idea how much all three of your kids love you, and how we appreciate everything you do for us. We know it hasn’t been easy. We recognize your struggle, we are grateful for you sacrifices. Please understand that.

I may not have the most conventional parents in the world, they’re super weird and my dad laughs like a hyena and my mom thinks it’s funny to pretend to offer me clothes and some of my friends think that English isn’t their first language and that they speak way too fast, but they are the best ones. There is so much love in their relationship with each other and there’s so much love in their relationships with their kids, and that’s not something that all families can really say.

My mom is the silliest woman I’ve ever met, though most people don’t know that about her, and no one makes her laugh quite like my dad does. She’s a bit of a chatty Kathy, and she’s good at saving money and she can’t sing for the life of her, and she’s got a voice reserved specifically for customer service reps. My dad is the goofiest guy I’ve ever met, and nothing annoys him more than someone talking while the GPS is talking and when he’s imparting wisdom he likes to look at you over the top of his glasses like a librarian and sometimes I think he has the same personality as my 12 year old brother and he can whistle really really well.

I’ve got Mom’s trust issues and Dad’s temper, but I’ve also got her capacity for love and his sense of humor. More importantly, though, I’ve got them.

This is a thank you for every family conference phone call in the Subaru, and for calming me down and reminding me of the person I want to be. For every family road trip and for not getting mad every time I broke my glasses and for making me laugh all the time. For playing chess with me and for making all my favorite foods every time I come home. This is a thank you for giving me your all, always. This is a thank you for teaching me how to roller blade, Mom, even when you didn’t know how. And for giving me bananas, Dad, cause you know they’re good for me and that I’m completely full of it when I claim that I’m allergic. This is a thank you for being hard on me, and never giving up. For listening to everything I have to say, and encouraging me, and for being so unapologetically yourselves. For giving me culture, and for being patient and for believing in me, always.

To the classiest, sassiest, most incredible, supportive losers on the planet, I will never finish thanking you, so really, thank you for giving me so much to be grateful for.

I am so blessed to have parents like you.

I love you guys.