The other night, in a moment of rage, my kid yelled that her father and I had failed her as parents for her entire life.
Extenuating circumstances: she had been missing one of her meds. And of course, the world. And she hasn't lived long enough to know that that it's really, really destructive to hit someone you love in their most tender spot during a fight. Maybe she doesn't even know what a tender spot it is. I managed not to make the obvious, unforgivable retort, because I do know.
But I'm having a lot of trouble forgiving her. I'm angry because I feel like we've done nothing but give of ourselves for her her entire life, no matter what it cost us. And maybe also because, in some part of me, I believe she was right.
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