July 26, 2026 Dear Diary, I don’t even know why I’m writing this tonight. Maybe because the walls feel like the only things that listen to me. Sometimes I feel like my mom hates me. She doesn’t hit me or hurt me, and I know that matters, but there’s something in the way she talks to me and looks at me that makes me feel unwanted. It feels like there’s a distance between us that I can’t cross. I keep asking myself, “Why doesn’t she love me the way other moms love their daughters?” My dad left when I was three years old. I don’t remember much about him, just little pieces of stories and memories that feel blurry. Sometimes I wonder if everything would have been different if he stayed. Would Mom be happier? Would she look at me differently? But there’s a part of me that doesn’t believe my mom truly hates me. I think she loves me. I really do. I think there’s something stopping her from showing it. Maybe someone is forcing her to act this way, or maybe there’s something happening that I don’t understand. It feels like the person I see isn’t the real her. Like there’s a version of my mom somewhere inside who wants to love me but can’t find a way to show it. Maybe she’s hurting. Maybe she’s carrying something she never tells anyone. I don’t know the reason, but I want to believe that the love is still there. I wish I could ask her what happened. I wish she would tell me the truth. I wish she would just hug me and say, “I love you. I’m sorry.” Because even after everything, I still love her. I don’t want to hate my mom. I just want my mom back. — Aria
