---
I wasn’t the daughter you expected.
I try, though—
but you know I’m not perfect.
They call me a burden,
and some days, I believe them.
Harsh words outlive apologies;
my life feels short from carrying them all.
Maybe I was wrong.
Maybe you were happier before me.
Maybe I crossed a line simply by existing.
If that’s true, then say it plainly—
don’t leave me guessing in silence.
Because some nights, it feels like
I was born to die,
nothing more than a regret
that learned how to breathe.
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Dec 18, 2025
Dec 18, 2025 at 12:51 PM UTC
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I wasn’t the daughter you expected.
I try, though—
but you know I’m not perfect.
They call me a burden,
and some days, I believe them.
Harsh words outlive apologies;
my life feels short from carrying them all.
Maybe I was wrong.
Maybe you were happier before me.
Maybe I crossed a line simply by existing.
If that’s true, then say it plainly—
don’t leave me guessing in silence.
Because some nights, it feels like
I was born to die,
nothing more than a regret
that learned how to breathe.
---
This piece captures the quiet pain of feeling unwanted and misunderstood as a daughter. It reflects the emotional weight of harsh words, the fear of being a burden, and the loneliness that comes from silence instead of honesty. At its core, it is a plea for clarity, acknowledgment, and the right to exist without guilt—expressing how deeply neglect and unspoken resentment can shape one’s sense of worth.
