I can't remember the first time I began to rant about my dad. Every close friend I've had knows how critical he is of me, and how unfair he is about rules. Every time I see him I feel so judged. 

Today, I broke down and, full on sobbing, asked him why he hates me so much. As we talked, I realized that everything he's been saying is because he wants the best for me. And I'm the one who's been interpreting it at hatred this entire time. It was only when I said my thought process out loud that I realized how irrational it was. I'm the one who's been critical of myself this whole time. I'm the one who thinks I'm not good enough. Fuck my self-hatred.