Sometimes I feel like my parents represent everything that I hate. Their huge fancy house that they work so hard to maintain, that they care about more than me (materialism), all the junk in their house and the money they spend (consumerism), their ill-disguised stereotypes (racism, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia), their so-called “peaceful” liberal philosophy (hate-filled politics), their gossip (leave ‘em alone), their stinginess (humanity, gifts), their laziness (boxes of my grandmother’s stuff everywhere, how will we clean the house), their hypocrisy (I didn’t chose to live this way).

If you tell me I sound just like my mother, I will scream.