Gated

ᴱᴺᵀᴿʸ ²

⁰⁸/¹⁹/²⁰¹⁷

I hate everything. Or everyone. I'm not really sure which one it is right now. Everyone would argue that my life is perfect, but it's far from it. Everything they see is literally just for show.

I'm Beyoncé by the way. Beyoncé Knowles. I'll be eighteen in less than a month. I'm the second out of my parents three daughters. I kind of just blend in with my family. It's kind of like I'm not Beyoncé, just Tina and Matthew's daughter, Solange's little sister, Solana's big sister. See?! Even my name is different. Oh! My dad's a plastic surgeon by the way. My mother has her own hair salon and hair care line. That's what they're important for. Whoop Dee Do.

When I wasn't referred to by my relationship to the rest of the Knowles I was referred to as someone's best friend. We don't say her name. Imagine everyone calling you a nickname your ex best friend gave you when you were kids. That would piss me off.

Really, I started this journal because my therapist said it would probably help me heal... everything. Maybe one day I'll be able to write her name without feeling upset.

Maybe I just hate myself and that's why I can't tell if it's everyone or everything. She says I hate my blackness, but that's not the case. Or maybe it is. I don't know. Like I don't hate my skin color, but I'm sure that's not what she's referring to.

I don't know why though- or maybe it's my dad. You'd think it's because of my mom because she's so light you know? But I can honestly admit my dad is a colorist. The only time I get his attention is when he's telling his white colleagues how pretty and light I am. And like when we take family pictures he puts Sol and Sos behind us. Like he's in the middle on a stool, my mom and I sit in front of him and Sol and Sos stand behind him. Sol isn't even dark. He also tries to keep us in the house during the summer claiming we don't need tans.

Maybe I hate him and I hate the part of myself that is him.

Anyway, her. We were best friends from the time we were two until we were fifteen. I literally can't escape her. We went to the same daycare, same school since preschool, we go to her grandpa's church, I can't get rid of her.

Every time I look at her I just get angry. Maybe I hate her? I don't even think I hate her. Maybe I do hate my blackness.

Okay I got it. Maybe I hate my dad, which makes me hate the part of me that's like him, which makes me hate her.

I don't know what it is, hell. All I know is I hate. Like that's all I know for sure. I don't know what or who it is, I just hate it.

I need to pray on that, cause that's not of God at all. Lord, please take all of this hate out of me. I even hate the hate. I just want to be happy. I think I have to figure out when all of the hate started before I can fix it. Lord help me fix it.

~Bey Bitches