My dad called me a whore when I was in 9th or 10th grade, saying he found blood on the toilet seat and “you don’t bleed like that on a period.” He made a huge scene about it in front of my brother, who was 3 years older but was held back because of learning disabilities.

My brother went to school and told everyone that I was a whore and was sleeping with my crush who I spoke on the phone with a few times. We had never saw one another outside of school, and then obviously after that incident, he never spoke to me again and my entire class stopped talking to me.

It made the last few years of high school unbearable to the point that I considered suicide.

That’s just one of many lying, manipulative stories about my dad growing up, unfortunately.