Once again, I listened to my options. Every day, I listened to my options: “Either marry a man of our choice (random) or leave the house. Oh also, if you leave the house it will be over our dead bodies”. I tried to figure out what exactly this meant; I defined and redefined over and over again to find my path. I knew they would not die, for my little brother was priority; until he grew strong and old, they would not leave this world. Perhaps, metaphorically, I would have no more family. They would mentally kill me and I would have to mentally erase them.
To erase those who gave you life- is this something I would regret ahead? Should I close my eyes and marry a random man, despite knowing how much I would hurt for the rest of my life, even when they pass. It seems as though they do not know, I spent a lot of my years in life trying to be good. I apologized and sobbed, knowing I did nothing atypical to myself, for being their worst born and reason for ill fate. Often they wish, I was not born to them, as they are forced to love me because we share the same blood.
This time was scary; I did not admit much, but I was scared. Yet, I was not scared at the same time. They said we would never provide you with any support at all from here on after, but I remember how I was the only one calling back every day the first time I left. Sometimes they would respond and other times, they would not. Never did I hear: “Please do not leave as you are a part of us, we love you, we need you, like you need us.” Of course, I remain grateful for every single compassionate word they provided, believing they had the ability to change me. They helped me off the deathbed, believing I am now their possession; anything they would say, I would do. Slowly, I would change into the daughter they wished to have.. a little more traditional, a little more obedient, a little more hidden.
I never understood what was wrong with me, completely. I always admitted I am imperfect and striving to be a good human being, capable of providing happiness to at least, someone. Many times, after hearing the accused sins I committed, I stared in the mirror with no motivation to fight for myself. After all, I was their definition; the more I stayed in this atmosphere, the more I lost myself. Slowly, time and time again, I would become isolated, angry, and an unrecognizable version. Lifting every plate with a mental “DO NOT EAT FROM HERE” sign on it, I became confused and numb. I became incapable of differentiating between simple things, such as directions. A fifteen-minute drive took me an hour, due to the many labels blurring my vision.
This time was different, due to a permanency dynamic. I would not try something out- I would leave and never return. Accepting this, I began to wake in the mornings searching for my career. I began to plan my schooling for the next two years. Lights were always flashing and I became very desperate to save my life. At the end of the day, I was going to make sure I had myself.
At some points, my siblings would tell me nothing will happen and there is nothing to worry about. Deep inside I knew, everything has already happened and worry defined the nights.