A letter to … my parents, whose favouritism ripped our family apart

I was about five when I found out how deeply entrenched the favouritism in my family was: one winter’s day I was drawing pictures with my younger sister; we kept asking my parents whose drawing they liked best and they always chose her’s, so the very next drawing we did I asked my sister to swap drawings with me. When my father chose my sister’s drawing again, I proudly exclaimed: “That’s my picture.” He replied: “I’ve changed my mind – I prefer this one.” Words aren’t enough to explain how crestfallen I was. I couldn’t have been more hurt if I’d have been thrashed.


Leave a Reply, All comments will be moderated - Many thanks for your contribution

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.