Category Archives: Childhood

Moving Out

In my culture, there is only two reasons for a girl to be leaving her parents house. One, she is going to marry and she leaves to join her husband’s family. Two, and this one is very unlikely and still hard to see through, she leaves for a better college life.

And the thing is, I don’t fit into any of those categories.

Here is the first thing, I don’t plan on getting married. And this is going to sound contradicting, but I’m not ruling it out either. It’s just that I am not in a place of mind to be thinking about marriage. Marriage, for me, doesn’t mean completion. Marriage, for me, doesn’t mean that life is finally starting. But marriage, for me, doesn’t mean that I am going to be forever stuck as well.

I just haven’t found the person I would like to be forever with, nor do I think it is the time to start looking. When it happens it will happen and I know that there will be no regrets.

Here’s the second thing, I’ve tried college living at home. It doesn’t lead to anything other than depression. The first time I hit depression so hard, it took me months to get over it. The second time I tried my best to not be depressed, but it still came. I have to admit, I’m scared. College scares me. I know I can be good at it, but I know it come with a price as well.

So here is the final question, why am I moving out?

Why am I moving out?

Why?

My parents don’t want me to leave. Honestly, I could live the rest of my life at home and my parents would be okay with it. But do you see the issue with that? I could live THE REST OF MY LIFE at my parents house.

And I know, I know. Who wouldn’t love to live a life full of safety nets? I can buy and do whatever I want, whenever I want, and life would be peachy cause I have parents who takes care of all the bills. Who wouldn’t want that?!

Heck, this is one of the reasons why I waited 24 years before I was pushed into this decision.

Here is another part of this story. I have been conditioned into staying to protect my parents. For over 8 to 9 years all everyone has ever told me was that my parents needed me. And I believed it. My parents relied on me for everything. I had to grow up and I had to change myself over and over again just to satisfy their needs.

But then, you know what happened, my parents mentally and verbally abused me. For years they manipulated their words, and threatened my every thought and action. I couldn’t do anything. All my actions, whether they were purely good or slightly ill intent, were shot down.

I couldn’t even be my own person. I had to be my parents daughter. I had to be the face of my family. I had to be perfect.

That doesn’t sound so bad right? Being perfect.

But perfect is not who I am. I am flawed. And I am perfectly fine with being flawed.

So, what does that have with me moving out? I’ve been wanting to move out since the notion entered my mind when I was 16/17. But I was scared. I’ve been scared of leaving my parents. I’ve been scared of leaving everything I have ever known about my life. My normal was going to be shattered.

My parents need me but don’t want me. My parents want me but don’t need me. It is always one or the other.

They have the need to feel like everything is in their control. So they say things and do stuff that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

And I need to get away from that.

It’s honestly not as bad as it sounds. I’m not in a horrible place. But I don’t feel like I’m really living. I may live in their house, but it isn’t my home. I may have a room, but it really isn’t my room. My parents still feel like they can roam through my junk when they feel like it. And it may just be junk, but it is my junk.

I’m a very private person, other than me writing about my life all the time. But there are limits to my private life. I don’t like knowing that I don’t have a safe spot. And right now, I don’t have a safe spot at all.

So, even though it was my sister’s idea to move out, I am now taking the lead. Even though it was my sister’s plan, I am taking the brute of the aftermath. My parents are acting as if I was the mastermind behind the decision.

My parents know that I am not like any of their other children. I am the one to go out of pattern. The one who may follow their every order but the one to go against every plan they also have.

So, why am I moving out?

I am tired of being pushed and pulled. I am tired of having these expectations without information about what is really going on.

I am tired of not being in control of my life.

A Little Something I Wanted to Share

I wrote this to a friend and thought it would be cool to post it here. I do mention references to my story I am writing, which is what sparked this conversation.

Have a little of my past 🙂

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Personally, why I don’t agree to forced marriage and fear it, is because I don’t want to lose my freedom. I had to struggle just to be the person that I am right now. When I was growing up, I was “the pretty one with white skin” that all the old ladies doted on. I grew up with expectations to do well, to marry well, and to have a good looking boyfriend/husband, all because the fact of me having “a pretty face.”
I was basically told what to expect out of life. But having all these words thrown at me didn’t make my feel any better. My sisters, and cousins had to witness it too. They were being compared to me, but I didn’t like to be the china doll that everyone showed off. Honestly, as a young girl, I didn’t think there was much about me that was charming. I blinked too much, I was empty minded, and filled with
imaginations.
It should have made me a bitch, and maybe it did, but since I was so different, I secluded myself. I didn’t want to stand out as “the pretty one.” It got to the point that if any guy talked to me, I would turn my back to them, honestly I was an ice princess during my middle and high school years. It was something that I never noticed till just last year..
I never allowed myself to grow to my full potential, I was scared to be ‘me’. So while I still worked hard, I pulled back in the department of social skills and love life.
For awhile I did find ‘me’, and I thought I was finally going to go somewhere in life, but things aren’t always that dandy and great. I had a conflict with my sisters. I had other life ambitions and they were worried about their love lives. We weren’t seeing eye to eye in anything. They were the closes people to me in my family, and in matter of months we hated each other with a passion…
But they were still my family, and with time we slowly became family again, but never as close as we once were.
I still lost myself though, and I was lost for so long too. I closed myself off again. My best friend could see it, but she didn’t know how to deal with it. She didn’t know what I had to grow up with. For years I would put on a mask with a smile, but I was basically dying on the inside.
It was just two years ago that I started on my life journey to be happy and to be ‘me’. I feel like I took three big steps in my life. If I were to be married, I would be taking four steps back.
Plus, I tend to think that my dreams carry heavy messages that I am afraid to admit, and I had dreams about forced marriages. Maybe it was due to the fact that I was thinking consistently about my story, but it showed me what my darkest fears were about forced marriage. People kept trying to get into my bubble, trying to control everything for me. Just like Luna, everyone was making mistakes for her and she had to deal with the mess. Nobody would let me grow as a person, and nothing would be mine anymore.
That is another thing, while growing up, my sister’s would claim things as theirs and I would step back and let them. I had nothing to claim as mine. Now that I do have something that is mine, I am scared that someone is going to take it away from me.
And yeah, I lost a lot of my sisters while I was young. They were never really sister figures though, or at least I felt like they never were. They never tried to understand me as a human being, even though I tried with every last tear to understand what was going on in their minds. I tried so hard with my younger sisters too, and it only left me hurt even more. I love them to pieces, but no one really understands me.. So yea, I do have a silent promise with myself to not let my younger sisters go through what I went through when all my married sisters left. Because honestly, when my family was already under scrutiny, it hurt that my sisters were finding love and I was stuck to deal with all the drama and gossip.
Rather than focusing on others, my main goal in life is to focus on me. As greedy as that sounds, it’s something that I owe to myself, to my kid self who worried too much about what other’s thought about themselves and about me.
When I write a stories, my characters are their own people, but I tend to leave a bit of me with my them. And that may seem greedy too, but I can’t help but leave part of myself in places that my family would never think to look.
I can’t seem to make my stories short…. I had to share my whole life story… (and why would i share my whole life story? i don’t fear my flaws or horrible past.)

Childhood Dreams

I sat there, listening to music, that carried my childhood in them. This particular night was like any other night of my life. Nothing special was going on. Other than procrastinating on homework, life was a yawn.

I closed my eyes and thought back to when I was a child. Back in California. When days were much simpler. When the only thing I had to worry about was coming home with bruises on my knees from playing with the boys at recess.

The days when my siblings and I didn’t get yelled at for playing in the sprinklers after school,  making our uniforms soaking wet. When all I had to do was read books after books.

And of course, that smile of my best friend.

I had missed a few days from spraining my ankle (jumping off my roof). And when I returned, she had greeted me with her big smile and told me that everyone missed me. We were inseparable.

But that was back in California.

My parents moved us to the great midwest, to the state of Wisconsin. Everything I ever knew changed. People were different there, my friends new. It was difficult to accept the change. Despite my difficulties, day after day, month after month, even though I yearned for my home in California, I was moving on.

I lost connection with my childhood friends, I lost what it was to be a Cali girl.

What did I become? A girl stuck in reality. Dreaming at night but forgetting to have dreams while I walked the grounds of Earth.