Dear Mom.

When I come downstairs to talk to you,I want to talk to you. I don't want to listen to him ramble for the next half hour while you keep your head down. He has no idea what I'm going through or what I have gone through. He's been part of my daily life for four months. He has no idea what has happened to me at home,at school,and in my own mind. He has no idea what I know. He treats me like a four-year-old with no knowledge past clothes,music,and other things stereotypical of my age and gender. I am almost sixteen years old. I may not know everything about the world,but I'm not an idiot either. I know you have had to sacrifice a lot for me and Josh and I know you work really hard. I'm not as much of a selfish brat as he seems to think I am. He takes my words and twists them to fit his views on the subject and he makes me out to be nothing but a silly little girl who couldn't possibly know anything of any value. And like I said at the beginning,when I ask you something or tell you something,I really just want to talk to you.Can you please stop pushing everything onto him? I'm sorry I'm not perfect and my questions may seem silly but they aren't to me and my mind. I'm sorry I'm argumentative and have troubles with my own view of myself,but I'm asking you to help me with that and all that's happening is I'm getting frustrated because he talks about me as if what I say is nothing. Someday I may be able to talk to you about this for real but for now I'll have to settle for ranting to the internet and fitting the stereotype of the stupid,angsty teenager.