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I don't think I can ever repair things with my dad. Help?

I'm a 16 year old girl and a junior in high school. You must understand, first and foremost, that I live in an extremely Muslim household but I myself do not practice or believe in religion whatsoever. I have no qualms with religion, but I simply do not want to live life following such strict rules that I personally do not agree with. My parents are rather religious, but they’ve never forced me to wear the hijab. However, they still force me to pray and read Quran and attend religious events despite knowing I have no interest in the faith at all.

My dad is constantly suspicious of me. He's always questioning who I'm talking to, what I'm doing, where I am, what I'm doing on my phone, etc. He's like this with my other siblings as well, but for me, it seems really elevated. It seems that the older I get, the more he doesn't trust me.

He placed severe restrictions on my phone last year, and me, being the sneaky person I am, I went behind his back and went onto his phone. All I wanted was to find my Apple ID password and my Screen Time passcode, so I could actually use my phone, but in the process, I accidentally acquired literally every single password he has, including his info for banking, insurance, etc. But that wasn’t my intention I really just wanted the passwords for my phone. Which is bad itself, but I wasn’t trying to hack into his bank account, which is way worse!

Anyway, he got suspicious of me last Sunday because I took my phone with me when I was showering so I could listen to music. When I put my phone down later he took it and looked through it he knows my passcode, of course and he read through messages and photos that were extremely personal. He saw messages of me calling him a ***** and saying I feel unsafe around him. He also found out that I’ve been sending really suggestive photos of myself to this friend I’ve met online my face is covered, and I’m confident that the person is who they say they are so I’m not in danger, but still, purity culture and all. He was extremely angry at me and then slapped me so many times, grabbing me by the hair and screaming at me, demanding explanations. He then looked through my hidden camera roll and found personal messages and… literal gay porn. And he’s a raging homophobe, obviously. He knows I’m bisexual, or at the very least bicurious, but he just pretends he doesn’t know. Kind of stupid of me for not deleting that stuff off my phone, but I didn’t expect him to look through it, considering I have pictures of hijabi friends which he’s not allowed to look at. I guess he just didn’t care at that point.

Anyway, he’s just very upset, and I’ve had my phone taken away since then. I don’t really care about that, but I feel awful because now he just screams at me all the time, or he pretends I don’t exist. He won’t even speak to me he asks my siblings to ask me questions for him. He said he doesn’t care what I do with my life anymore. When he was hitting me, he seemed like he was on the verge of tears. He seemed really hurt that I was badmouthing him like that, let alone to a stranger online (oh, and, I’m not allowed to talk to strangers online, if that wasn’t clear). I really feel awful for hurting him, but he has to know that the only reason I seek validation online is because he’s hurt my self-esteem so badly that I struggle to socialize in real life. I don’t want to be like this. I want him to trust me. But in the end, I know that I’ll never be the daughter he wanted, because I’m not Muslim, and I never want kids unless by adoption, and I most likely want to marry a woman. So how can I even begin to patch things up with him? Should I even try to, if it’s all just going to fall apart again eventually? I’m definitely planning on moving out for college, regardless of what my parents want, but still, I have to keep living here until then. I just feel guilty and uncomfortable all the time. It’s only been three days, though, so maybe it’ll get better with time. I don’t know. I’ve been very miserable these past few days. I don’t know what to do.

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