i started to think that it’s better for me to have a twitter account but there’s no way i press tweet every 140 characters right? anyway…
just another morning where i woke up and the first thing i heard within the first five minutes was “your dad’s ...” and it has been happening ever since i moved back to my parents’ house, thanks cov! don’t get me wrong, i’m grateful that both of them are here and they are well, and i love them and care about them, and that’s the reason why this is bothering the shit out of me. both my parents talk, but none of them listen. i never fully realized this until i spent more than half of my day with them for over a year without fail. i was oblivious of this at first, but it takes a greater impact of my life. it’s obvious they have poor communication.
i grew up in a “traditional” chinese household. we do not show our love to each other with hugs or casually saying i love you darling, honey, whatsoever. we show our love by servicing others. i guess. so much so that my dad usually eats first and mom & i later (that’s very normal in traditional chinese family), or my dad making his own coffee (without ever making one for us) or either my mom or i make coffee for the three of us. i know he’s the main bread winner, he built himself from nothing and being able to sent his kids abroad for years of education when he didn’t get to finish elementary school himself was something anyone would be so fucking proud of. but yes, how things are in my house worry me. women are seen as second class citizen, although it is not as apparent as, let’s say, families who actually lives in china. we are more relaxed, but unconsciously do all those things above.
but i wasn’t allowed to feel feelings, i was told i can’t cry or else my tears will run dry. i have to be calm. i have to keep myself for marriage, i can’t show too much or wear baggy clothes. i can’t be loud, i can’t be rude to men. i have to be nice. smile. i have to be obedient or else i would get punished, i have to be strong and take care of them because they took care of me. i wasn't allowed to ask questions. i have to work hard, all the time. i can’t take time off. i can’t be lazy or sleep in. i have to wake up early and help my mom, clean the house, do the laundry, cook. but i can’t work too much, build a career or be too ambitious because at the end of the day, i am the one to clean up after my family. i have to be the mother to my kids, wipe their asses clean and be a good wife to my husband. i have to have sex with my husband whenever he wants to or else my husband would cheat on me. that there’s no such thing as mental illness. that i have to be a good wife and bring more lives into the world, thats all i have to be.
this takes me back to my university days where i met my friends. how i learnt that i can say i love you and hug my friends and they actually appreciate it. how the first time i visited one of my friend’s house, he actually said good morning or good night, thanks, sorry, just basic courtesy. he hugs his family, their parents kiss and hug each other. it came to me as a shock seeing how he’s half chinese himself. same goes to my boyfriend’s family (he’s half chinese) and even though i’ve never seen his parents hugs or kiss, they all greet each other and say thanks. and they hug me! and the more i visited my friends’ houses, the more i realized what my family lacked of. the more i realize what i want for myself and my future family. the more i realized why i drank so much and rebel. the more i asked myself, “is this why i kept falling for guys who don’t show their affection to me, and why i kept going for those guys thinking i could make them love me by using myself as a tool, to service and please them?” — fucked, right? all those years i believed that i was the one who needs fixing, i mean i do, but i thought i could fix myself by fixing them. i was so wrong.
did my parents do me wrong? i used to think the answer was an easy yes, until i saw this
they did try their best, they were brought up this way. they didn't know any better. it’s not their fault too that i end up caring too much or being too sensitive. does it make things easier between us, or make it easier for me to forgive them? absolutely fucking not. but it makes me aware of what i should and could do in the future. how i could make things better for my family in the future. it’s really hard for me to say this but, i get to choose who i want in my life, or what i want. because at the end of the day, it is my life. not my parents’.
but i guess i have to make peace with my parents before i embark on another journey. right? and to be very honest, it makes me feel so sick and anxious. i’m scared of the outcome, i’m scared to see how they would react when i stand up for myself and decided to put myself first.