I don't really know why, but you bug me so much more than Dad does. Like, I literally hate you so much sometimes.
It's like you just love to shove my biological sex in my face, and you always try to talk for me. Like, I have a voice thanks. I can talk for myself. I don't need some ignorant bitch to try and act like she knows everything about me.
And your reason for not using my name and pronouns is bullshit. For one thing, my name could totally just be a nickname. It's just that close to my dead name. And if it really bothers you, you could just avoid pronouns all together.
Needless to say, you aren't as supportive as you pretend to be, and I'm sick and tired of you acting like I'm your perfect daughter. Don't yell at me about getting a couple B's on my fucking report card if you can't even fucking acknowledge who I am.
You're an ignorant bigot and I honestly wouldn't have anything to do with you if I had a choice. I can't wait till I'm old enough to walk out on you. I hope it crushes you; knowing that you lost your child simply because you were too jaded to accept him for who he was. I hope you regret it; regret everything. I hope you try to get in touch with me, crying for forgiveness, and I'll scoff into the receiver and tell you to fuck off because I know you'll use my birth name, even when begging for forgiveness for doing exactly that.
But hey, not all dreams can come true, can they?
Sincerely,
Your son, Macks Liam Topinka