How do I talk to my parents about feelings they make me feel hurt or misunderstood?

The hardest conversations start with this: your parents are real people too, not just the role they play. That doesn't mean your hurt isn't valid. It means the conversation isn't about fixing them—it's about being known. Rabia spoke her truth directly, without softening it to protect others' comfort. But she also listened. She didn't need them to understand immediately; she needed to exist as herself in the room. Start here: name what happened, not what they are. Instead of "You always made me feel small," try "When you said that, I felt small." It's not about blame—it's about letting them see the impact. Some parents will hear it. Some won't. You can't control that. What matters is that you say it anyway. Not angrily, not to punish, but to be real. "I need you to know this hurt me" is different from "You're a bad parent." One invites understanding. One demands it. Be prepared: they might defend themselves. They might say your memory is wrong. They might cry, or get quiet. None of that means you shouldn't have spoken. Love that can't hold difficult truth isn't love—it's a performance. After you speak, notice what shifts. Sometimes it's small. Sometimes they surprise you. Sometimes nothing changes but you—and that matters too.