Dear Lock In Participants (And Parents): Fill & Download for Free

Here’s a sampling of examples, rather than a definition, which I feel would be more helpful:Passing laws that allow anyone who sells alcohol on someone else’s holy day to be legally locked in a cage and/or forced to pay money to the stateProhibiting atheists from representing their communities in government (some states still have such laws)Allowing people such as pharmacists or government clerks to refuse to do their jobs if those jobs conflict with their religious beliefs — if they are that firm in their beliefs, they need to choose jobs which do not conflict with those beliefs rather than forcing others to go without medical or governmental servicesApproaching others unbidden, even on their own property, and attempting to convert them when they have shown no interest and ask to be left aloneBeginning public meetings, such as county commissions or public school events, with prayerHolding religious events at public schools and telling the parents of kids who are not of that religion that their kids can go sit by themselves somewhere if they want to opt out (happened to friends in Atlanta just a few years back)So basically, anytime religion is not kept among believers or within the bounds of the “public square” (the free market of ideas where we may all participate) and instead intrudes into public policy which applies to all or into other folks’ personal spaces, then it is being forced upon others. We can only have religious freedom if we are all free to make our own choices about religion, which means that my right to practice my religion ends at your property, your body, your family, your business, and our government.

Dear Mom,I've had this sitting as a draft for the better part of a week, trying to figure out exactly what to write. I've contemplated deleting this and avoiding answering this question, because I know that if you happen to one day read this, you'll only find a way to use it against me somehow, but there's so much I've been dying to say to you for so long now. So much that I've kept bottled up inside for years.I know you probably don't remember this, or if you do, you'll just deny it, but do you know what my earliest memory is? I was 4 years old and dad had asked me something. I don't remember what he asked or what I said after, but apparently that was the wrong thing to say because the next thing I know, dad had his hand around my throat and was forcing me to look directly at him, as he pulled me onto my toes. You were there too. Do you remember? You stood by and watched as he did this, not saying a word. Dad would continue to do this for years after until you guys finally divorced and he left. The end result? To this day, when someone yells at me or raises their voice, I find it hard to speak. I know what I want to say and I yell it over and over again in my head, but when I try to say what I want to say, my voice gets caught in my throat.You know what else happened when I was four? Lizzie was born. I think that was when everything changed. I know you say you don't have a favorite, like every parent does, but I can tell you right now, I know this isn't true. Years of watching you hand her the world on a plate show this, but let's look at the facts:You can find time to go to every single acro practice to watch for hours but can't find the time to go to a championship meet for whatever sport I'm doing that year (soccer, softball, cross country, track and field, swim)If I'm talking and she interrupts, you don't tell her to wait her turn, you turn to her and strike up a conversationEven if you see her do something wrong, I get the short end of the stick and get the blameI know it's not a lot, but that's coming from years of the same treatment. Years of abuse and neglect. Years of being ignored and being told to my face “you'll never amount to anything” and “why can't you be more like your sister?”I know I'm a screwup. You don't have to tell me. Actually, scratch that, you already did. I didn't do the best in school, but I didn't fail either. Honestly though, I probably would have done better if you have just helped me. Instead of taking away my electronics and telling me “you'll get these back when you get your grades up" before locking them away and switching off the wifi. Do you know how many of my classes in high school required us to use our phones or laptops for an in-class project? Almost all of them. Do you know how many of those classes I almost failed because I wasn't able to completely finish a project in class since “the only possible reason I could possibly be doing so poorly is because I'm on my phone" and not the ADD I was diagnosed with after graduating? Again, almost all of them. I tried asking for them to take to school so I could actually participate in class that day, but your response was always the same. “You'll get them back when your grades improve.”When I was 16, you and Ian (my stepdad for anyone reading this) started pushing me to get a job. I didn't end up getting a job until after I graduated at 17, but that's not the point. My point is, whenever you told me to get a job, the conversation always had something along the lines of “when I was your age (or younger depending on how old you were in whatever story you were telling me) I walked into a store and they gave me a job right away. I worked, stacking boxes in the back of a store when I was 12 and all I had to do was go in and ask for a job.” Here's what I have to say to that:What you're saying is nice and all, but you were my age in the 90’s. A lot has changed since then, including the process that you have to go through when getting a new job. Nowadays when getting a new job, you have to go online and fill out an application on the website for where ever you're applying. Some of those specifically say “do not call about application.” If you go inside somewhere to ask for a job, they'll tell you to look on the website. After sending in the application (s) for the one or many places you're applying to, it can take weeks or even months to get invited to an interview and sometimes longer after that to hear if you got the job or not.So, I'm sorry I didn't have a job 1 week after you asked me to get one, but this isn't the 90s anymore. The world works differently now and things that might have been okay when you were kids, aren't that way today.Here's another thing. Something I never told you. When I was 18, Ian, who for years had spied on me, decided I was making phone calls to a secret boyfriend (no matter how many times I told you that wasn't true). So, after that day, and for years after until I moved out, I wasn't able to make any calls or texts after a certain time. I had no reason to make any calls after the time you set, until one night:Remember when I called you early one morning and told you my car had broken down on the side of the road? I lied. It didn't break down that morning. It broke down at 2 am the night before. I was dogsitting at Nana's house, which I used to love doing because it was one of the only chances I got to have my own freedom. There was nothing to eat in her kitchen and it was late at night so I hopped in my car and drove down to the McDonald's a couple miles away. As I was driving back to her house with my food, that was when my car broke down. I tried calling you and Ian, but I only got the same error message every time. It was late, there was nobody around, and I was unable to call anyone I knew for help. The only number I was able to call was 911, which I did, and they thankfully helped me out by sending someone my way to give me a ride home. I walked the mile back to my car the next day and called you, telling you my car had broken down that morning. I could have told you it broke down that night, but past experience led me to believe you would only turn it into a lecture. Notice how I didn't mention Lizzie once at the beginning of this? That's because this “no calls or texts after a certain time” rule doesn't apply to her. Only me. I've caught Ian's phone on a shelf in my bedroom, recording audio, and when I worked up the courage to confront him about it, his excuse was “phones do weird things when they get old.” The phone was one 3 years old and last I checked, phones, no matter how old, didn't grow legs, jump onto a shelf, open the voice recording app, and start recording. You were sitting next to him when this happened and didn't say a word.When I was 13, I started writing fanfiction. There's a point to this, I swear. I was young and wrote a few self-insert stories, or at least, made my OCs pretty similar to me, except for one or more details. I used my stories to talk about things I was too scared to come to you for, to say things I never had the courage to say to you in person, and to talk about why I did or didn't do certain things. Things like, why I don't have a voicemail message set up. Because nobody ever calls me, so I never saw a reason to set one up because I figured no one except scam callers would ever hear it.I grew up feeling like I never had anybody to go to. I never had any friends growing up because I was so scared I would say the wrong thing, I pushed everyone away. I let you tell everyone that I was shy because I didn't want to argue with you and tell you that the reason I'm so quiet all the time is simply because I'm terrified to speak my own mind. I do better with words when I'm writing them down though, so that's what I've chosen to do. Even though you probably don't even know what Quora is, so there's a good chance you'll never read this.So, dear mom, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a screw-up. I'm sorry I didn't get straight As, no matter how many times you told me I was “so smart.” I'm sorry I apparently didn't get a job you approved of. I'm sorry I'm not my sister. I'm sorry I'm not perfect.I'm sorry I don't have any friends, or a boyfriend. I'm sorry I still live at home because I can't afford to live on my own and I don't have any friends to roommate with.I'm sorry I started cutting when I was 16. I'm sorry I was born. I'm sorry.-From,Your oldest daughter, Emily

Dear Vadantha!I understood your situation. There are several people, with this attitude, I come across.How long you want to stay in your house and not going out and not mingling with your aged students ?What about your parents doing with you ?Go and join any lob. Ask your parents to show some job to you. Donot stay in the house alone.Participate in service oriented, any thing ,and involve heartfully.Your mind will be pleasent and with satisfaction.When you face a problem ,then only intrest in life will appear. Do not stay in four walls .Come out.GOD BLESS YOU.