For the past week, I have been posting embarrassing childhood pictures along with equally awful recreations to my Facebook page in hopes of raising money for Dance Marathon. The more money I raised from these horrible childhood photos, the more I questioned my parent's decision to raise me as their own offspring.

In light of their huge hearts and acceptance for the unacceptable, here is a photo-filled letter to my parents for never giving up on me, even in my most questionable phases:

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for loving me unconditionally. Even when I messed up, made a fool of myself, and had fashion disasters, you were both still by my side. You've not only loved me, but you have taught me lessons and let me experience things that I could never repay you for. I've been through a lot in the past 18 years, but there are a few specific times that I need to directly address and thank you for.

Thank you for letting me experiment with the low-pony middle part.

I learned that I am not a Kardashian, and a side part is much more flattering, but I appreciate the opportunity to experiment for myself. This phase also taught me that stripes aren't my friend, but under-eye concealer would be shortly.

Thank you for loving me when I had more chins than years lived on this Earth.

I explicitly remember wanting to scare people with my costume this year. I think that I probably could have done that without the costume, but it was nice of you to let me think it was the costume doing the scaring and not the fact that I could have probably hidden a good amount of Cheetos under that second chin.

Thank you for letting me believe that I could be anything I set my mind to.

With zero talent, a potbelly, and a shirt I probably should have left in Limited Too, the prospects of me being the next Lizzie McGuire were slim to none. I'm sure the clogs didn't help either. These things didn't stop you from encouraging me to try, at least until I changed my mind and decided I wanted to be a lunch lady.

Thank you for letting me discover what too much makeup looks like.

The angsty teen in me thank you for letting me think that I was cool, even when I look like someone I wouldn't want my kid hanging out with. The young adult in me thanks you for never telling me that I looked bad, even though it's very apparent that I did.

Thank you for letting me find my own self-identity.

As I'm sure you would have rather me labeled myself as "cute", "sweet", or even a "princess", we all knew that wasn't in the cards. Mom, special props to you for not laughing when I asked you to help me get the knots out of my hair.

Thank you for letting me borrow your shoes during my Bigfoot stage.

The camera angle doesn't help, but I had some stompers. Dad, thanks for referring to me as "the stomper". It was nice to have a title that made me feel like a WWE female wrestler while I grew into them.

Thank you for letting me go out in public when I probably should have been kept indoors.

This photo is the worst of the worst. That white patch on my head was me trying to put a sticker on it to make the shape look more normal. I am glad I got the opportunity to learn teamwork on the court, even if I was a little top-heavy.

Overall, I am most thankful to you for photographing these stages of life. If I were a parent and my child looked like any of these, you'd be hard pressed to see me snapping a picture. However, these documented atrocities have brought some great laughs over the years, and I'm very grateful for that.

If anyone would like to donate to my DM account, please click here.

All proceeds go to the Children's Network Miracle Hospitals, thank you so much for reading and supporting me!