rockywomen10

DATE: October 10th, 1997 Dear Dad, This is... Stupid. I don't even know why I'm bothering to write this. My school therapist said that it would be good for me to let my feelings out like this... To write in a journal. She said she didn't even have to read it if I didn't want her to. If that's the case, how does she even know that I wrote it? Here I am though, writing this stupid thing. She told me that sometimes it helps when you make your journal like a friend. Give it a name or something. She even suggested acting like it was you or Mom. So, I chose you. I don't know why. It seemed like a good idea. I guess you probably aren't too happy

Another day, another boring meeting.  Bruce had to attend a dinner party with some business clients who were investing in the transit train project.  He had separated from me to discuss something with the CEO of the McCarthy group who were involved with the construction site. I sip on my glass of champagne while trying to behave myself around these entitled corporate couples.  Honestly, I can’t stand these superficial people who have a feeling of entitlement, especially since I didn’t come from a world of privilege.  Most times I have issues with people judging me because I didn’t come from riches. “So  (Y/N), where