I want to be a good person. I want to be someone my parents could be proud of. I want to be someone better and deserving for their love and respect. I want to be responsible in their eyes and be authentically accepted as their daughter. I want to be worthy in the eyes of others because I’m worthy in the eyes of my parents… especially my father.
Sometimes, I think the reason why I don’t want to have a family is because I don’t have a good one to start with. Yes, we’re complete. Yes, we’re all together. And though we’re not well-off, we aren’t torn… or so I thought.
I don’t know what I did. I answered back, provoked by the actions of my mother, then I was humiliated by my dad. I was looked down on, accused of being the worst kind of daughter. I was called names, thrown curses at, shamed. I talked back again, trying to defend the little self-worth that’s left. But as usual, I failed. Because my father cannot be defeated. Because if there is something wrong in this house, it is automatically me who did it. So what’s left for me is to suffer the consequences of things, which most of the time, I did not even thought of committing.
And mind you, it’s Black Saturday today.
I grew up with it. For the past years of my life in this house, I woke up every morning to such complicated situation. I go to school with a heavy heart always. Whenever it’s time to go home, I think of more activities to do with friends to keep myself from coming back to my family. People just don’t see but every time I am without them, a part of me wishes not to go back anymore.
It’s wrong, I know. But who can stop me from wishing that I wish I have other father? I love my dad, God knows that. After all, he has given me life. But sometimes, he gets too scary that he demeans me already.
Right now, I just can’t do anything but cry as I type this. Somehow, it feels better. And to think that I’ll be meeting a friend (brother) later, I think I can release all these later.
I need a pillar to lean on. I need strength. I need courage. I need help.