An Open Letter to My Stepdad

An Open Letter to My Stepdad

All the things I want to say to you — honestly.
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Dear David:

First of all, I want to say I love you. I don’t feel like I ever say it enough.


It’s taken me a while to get to where I am today, and I have to thank you for most of it. A Stepdad was never a thing I thought I’d have – I had become so used to the idea of one Dad and one Mom, that any other relationship seemed inconceivable. As a seven-year-old, it didn’t really feel like I had a say in anything, including you – which, let’s face it, I didn’t. I must have thought you coming into our lives would weaken the close bond I’d formed with my Mom, and I didn’t want to lose that. I didn’t realize then that a Stepdad would make our family complete and make my Mom happy, but then again, I had probably bought into that whole Cinderella-Mean-Step-parent trope that I had associated with you.

That was the biggest mistake I think I’ve ever made, and one of my deepest regrets.

Because even though you may be stern – okay, let’s be honest, VERY stern – that doesn’t mean you’re horrible, like the Step-parent stereotype implies. You’re probably one of the kindest men I know. You didn’t HAVE to become a part of what seemed like a broken family – a single Mom and her tiny, neurotic daughter. You didn’t have to put in the effort and time and love to build a wonderful life for us, but you did. It takes a kind man to do all of that.

You’re intimidating, but in a good way. I wasn’t used to that personality; Mom is definitely very different. You really tried to be that dominating, responsible father figure that our family needed – which isn’t to say you tried to replace my Dad, but you were there for me in ways my Dad couldn’t at the time. I think, deep down, I harbored anger against you, because it felt like you were trying to be a physical replacement for him. Only with distance can I see you’ve only ever wanted the best for me and for my Mom and sister.

I think we’re the closest to a father/daughter relationship you can get. You’re the one who texts me when I’m spending too much money, being frivolous with responsibility when I need to shape up, and to remind me to respond to Mom’s texts and to yours (and I admit, I do try to avoid owning up to my faults, especially over text). You’ve almost single-handedly financed every weird medical and dental and dermatological and psychological issue I’ve dealt with since you married my Mom (and I’m sure now you look back on that money and think, wow, that could have helped with some other things), but you did that so I could be as healthy as possible. You also wouldn’t believe me when I wanted to skip school for being sick, because unless I was throwing up, then I could make it to class (and this is where I’d go crying to Mom, instead). You’re also the one who begrudgingly pays my rent each month, even though I’m (technically) an adult because you want me to focus on school and have a roof over my head. You’re the one who buys me printer ink when I’m low, pays the phone bill and doesn’t kill me when I go over the month’s data, lets me use his Amazon Prime account to ship things to my house, and moves all the heavy things around my house because I didn’t have a chance to inherit some muscle-building genes from you. You’re the one who is quietly judging the guys I date when you meet them, because you’re the ultimate deciding factor on who is worthy of being a part of my life. You’re the one who gets exasperated when I’m – well – exasperating. I’m pretty sure that’s the textbook Dad stuff.

Honestly, the more time that passes, the more I hate that prefix “Step”, as if you’re only a little responsible for my upbringing, when you’re an integral part of who I am today. Maybe in a few years I’ll still be technologically challenged and have to call you up to answer a simple tech question, or have to ask you the password for the Netflix account (because I’m still part of the family, even after I graduate college, and therefore get streaming privilegesright?), but I hope that no matter where life takes me, that you’ll always know how much I really appreciate you. You’ve supported me even when I was being an asshole ‘stepchild’, because, to you, I wasn’t a stepdaughter – I was your daughter, through and through.

You’ve loved me unconditionally, and for that, I will forever be thankful. I don’t think I can ever make up for the mistakes I’ve made in the past, for any shitty comment I’ve said to you or for any mistake I will make in the future, but I hope that from this point forward, I will remind you as often as possible how much you mean to me.

Thank you for being my Dad, sans-Step.

Your loving daughter,

Megan

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A Letter To My Mom Who Also Happens To Be My Best Friend

We all have friends but no friend is as special to us as our mom.
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To All The Best Friends:

We all have a best friend or two. Girls have many friends, but there is one friend we can all truly count on. We all know her and hope to be as great a friend as she is one day. She's that friend that's always there. The one you can always count.

This friend will be there at the drop of a hat. This friend will answer no matter what. This friend is your mom. Mom, mommy, momma, mother, or whatever you call her you know she's your best friend. My mom really is my best friend. Some people say that but don't really believe it.

Best friends are the ones we can tell our deepest secrets. The secrets that we trust everyone with. The secrets I tell my mom she usually already knows. When I tell her I'm upset she already knows that too. She is the person who is always the happiest for you.

Ever since I was little my mom has been the first one in the stands and the last one to leave my awards. My mom is there no matter what. Having my mom as a friend means I can count on her, but as my best friend I can always trust her.

Whatever she has to do can wait. Whatever she has going on can go to the back burner. When it comes to an event she's there.

To say I love her is an understatement. She is the best friend I'll ever have. When I'm sick she's there to take care of me even though she is risking getting sick. I've had four different surgeries and countless doctor appointments and she's always there.

My favorite thing about her is that she loves me unconditionally even when I do not deserve it. I don't deserve the love she gives to me but she gives it anyways; that and that alone is why your mom is the best friend you can ever have. Thank you to my mom and all the other moms out there that are our best friends.

Love,

The Daughters Who Are Beyond Thankful for You.

Cover Image Credit: Author's photo

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A Letter To The Mean Girls In High School

You're not as cool as you thought
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Dear mean girls from high school,

How are you? I hope you're well, but not that well. I'm writing this letter to tell you a few things.

We spent our days passing in the high school hallways, sitting in class together, and sitting near each other at the long, dirty, sticky lunch tables. You used to be my friends. Little did I know you were the complete opposite. It's funny how the people you think you're closest to are the ones who are actually your arch enemies. I know this now, and I thank you for teaching me how to spot your breed in college, because now I can avoid wasting time on people like you.

Luckily, you didn't make high school all that bad for me. You just helped me find my lifelong friends. I hope you found people like yourself at college, and have realized that talking about people and spreading rumors is actually not that cool. You can't even put it on your resume so what's the point? It's even more funny to look back at this now, because their way of life is totally changed once you get to college. It's every mean girl's worst nightmare. There's no friend group that's more popular than the other, and people don't have time to waste on trying to impress you to make you like them. People like you fed off of that feeling in high school, and now you're starving, because no one's going for that kind of bait anymore.

I can't sit with you? NO problem.

In reality, no one is better than anyone else, and that is something I learned as soon as I walked up to get my diploma in that cap and gown, and I hope you guys have learned that by now too.

You don't like my outfit?

My hair is curled badly?

Well, you've just waisted some precious oxygen and time by saying that, and have also waisted some brain power by even bothering to think it because quite frankly, I don't care.

I am a firm believer in what is called Karma, and that right there is what helped me laugh off the whispers I constantly saw, or the conversations I overheard discussing your plans for the weekend, which by the way, didn't involve anything exciting. I can guarantee those snapchat stories you put up made it look more fun than it seemed. I've been a part of it before, and your type of friend group does not know what fun is.


It's always hard to criticize the mean girls, because hey, they're perfect right? Kidding. It's hard to criticize you because no one really knows what's going on at home, or behind the scenes. Most girls like you cause problems, start rumors, and fail to make others feel comfortable in their own school environment is because of your own insecurities, and I'm sorry about that, but please stop making us confident people feel otherwise.

I hope now that you have experienced a bigger college environment and have realized that it's not always going to be you standing over a high school of 500. In the real world, not everyone is going to know you by name, and not everyone is going to go out of their way to say hi to you in passing. Because in reality, no one wants to waste their time on people who don't really care about them. I know I don't.

Well, it's been nice. See ya never, from yours truly,

Devyn

Cover Image Credit: msmojo

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