No. 003: To My Ex Boss
Caravaggio’s The Cardsharps (c. 1594)
"You can curate the story all you want. It doesn't change what actually happened."
World's worst boss,
You truly are unlike anyone I have ever encountered. The amount of confidence you pretend to have is admirable and rare to see in someone so completely comfortable with their own mediocrity. Sadly, no amount of aesthetic work can cover up who you truly are on the inside. It's comical that you feel untouchable to any consequence for your shitty character.
How does it feel knowing you had to delete recorded evidence to portray me as the one who acted crazy when I quit? When in reality, you followed me out of the office yelling obscenities at me. You even stooped as low as to make one final attempt to wound me by screaming across the parking lot that I was a "bad mom" — to which you got absolutely no reaction from me. And mother to mother, that's pretty fucking low.
Getting caught on camera throwing a punch that low while you walk around in your Prada loafers like you're better than everyone else must have really stung. Please tell me you at least rewatched it before you deleted it to witness how vulgar you were.
Do you feel good about yourself knowing that you chose to bully me and threaten me with legal action all because you could no longer control me or the situation?
Did you enjoy when I called your bluff on all of it? I hope so, because it was hilarious to watch the lengths to which you were willing to go. Like, why are you so obsessed with me?
The whole time we worked together you pretended to be my friend and claimed to care about me, but sadly never actually took the time to truly know me. And unfortunately for you, that means you gravely underestimated me.
That's the difference between you and I. While you were busy running your mouth with lies, twisting the story to fit your narrative of always being the victim and winning the trauma bingo card, I sat back and watched. Because your behavior became so easy to predict. I bet you felt so stupid knowing I hadn't said anything to anyone — well, until now — while you were out there mumbling everything but the truth.
I know you think you're better than me (and anyone else you deem below you). I watched you perform it every single day. The classic "I'm a girl's girl" — quickly followed by "I can't stand her" the moment a patient was out of earshot. I'll admit you're pretty decent at lying, Pinocchi-ho. You even had to lie to all of our mutual friends so you wouldn't come across like the unhinged person that you are.
Here's the thing about the truth — you can curate the story all you want. You can twist it and shape it and tell it to every person in your orbit. It doesn't change what actually happened. It doesn't change what you did. And it doesn't change the fact that I know exactly who you are underneath the performance. The legal threats didn't work. The bullying didn't work. The rewritten narrative didn't work. You underestimated me. And I think somewhere deep down you know it.
I hope the weight of everything you know that I know gives you anxiety induced diarrhea for the rest of your days. You've earned it, sweetie.
It is enough for me to simply never have to be in your presence again. That is the only victory I need. The fact that you've built a career on making people feel beautiful while being this ugly on the inside is a real shame.
— A former employee
P.S. You still owe me for my last day of work. Ring ring — "Hello, Department of Labor?" And don't worry — I'll make sure your medical director gets the full story. The real one. *kiss*
Submitted by Anonymous
No. 002: To My First Love
The Still Unsaid submission
"How could love die so quickly after burning so bright?"
My first love,
I still think about you every day, multiple times a day, nearly 20 years after we ended things. At the time, I thought it was mutual. But then it just...wasn't. You moved on, became a seemingly better person of yourself, and moved on in love too, so quickly. I moved on too, but not really. I found love again, but there you still lived in my heart, no matter how hard I've tried to push you out.
I still wonder "why?" Was I too broken? Too wild? Not enough? How could love die so quickly after burning so bright?
I still wonder if one day we'll find each other again, even though it's the most impossible idea. I wonder if I even cross your mind.
I wish I could forget you, replace our relationship with one worth forgetting. The intensity that was first love, how pure, how reckless, how all encompassing it felt. I mourn that I'll never feel that way again.
I've created a beautiful life without you, but I'll never stop wondering, were you the one?
Submitted by Anonymous
No. 001: To My Dad
Rembrandt's The Return of the Prodigal Son (1669)
“Anyone who has the chance to enter your orbit is better for it.”
Dad,
There is not a single word or phrase that could describe how grateful I am for the privilege of having you as my dad.
You showed me what it was like to be truly loved unconditionally and how to love selflessly and fiercely. Your love, patience, and kindness exceed far beyond anyone I have ever met. Anyone who has the chance to enter your orbit is better for it.
You have always been my protector. The person I turn to when life gets hard and confusing. And now I watch you do the same for my children. Watching you become a grandpa (Bubba) has given me the gift of reliving my own childhood. I love how tender you are with them and how much they adore you. Pretty sure you're their favorite person. I can't blame them. Seeing you laugh and play with them reminds me of all the beautiful memories you and I made growing up.
I can't imagine my life without you in it. You have always been my person. And thinking about not having you around feels terrifying. So I won't say goodbye. Instead I'll say, I love you. Thank you for being my dad. Thank you for everything you have taught me. Thank you for loving me, and for loving the family I have created, and for being the best Bubba ever.
I love you.
Kenz