Not afforded the opportunity to make mistakes and grow.
Fuck it. All my life, my parents have controlled my every move in an effort to overprotect me. They refuse to let me make my own choices, make mistakes, and grow. And it’s fucking out of control. I’m at an age where my peers are getting married. Are getting jobs. Are moving out. Are independent. Are making decisions for themselves.
My parents cannot accept this. I am not allowed to refuse their support, they force it into my hand.
Every phone call from them is just as unpleasant as the next if not more so and I despise talking to them. It’s always about another move they want me to make to allow them to protect me better from a potential failure.
- I have to take their car. Just in case, they say. Yet, repairs have costed an excess of $1575 over less than 6 months, and I cannot afford this on my pay. I want to live within my means not because I have to but because I want to experiment and try fully supporting myself for once, and have something to be proud of so I DON’T want the car. They cannot accept this. Take the car, we paid the insurance, we paid for the installation of snow tires, we paid for the repairs. Take it. Don’t worry about it (you have no other choice, we won’t allow it). We don’t want you to fail. I’m not proud of anything I did. My perspective is that THEY afforded me the opportunity, THEY supported, I have no hand in this ability to move out here and work out here and I have nothing to be proud of.
- Oh, your car broke down? Go call for help – do anything expensive, it’s fine, we will pay for you. No, no, parents. I want to learn to FIX my car myself. I want to learn to save money, live frugally, learn to solve the problem for the future, rather than being someone like you, my dear parents, you ignorant rich people who call for help and helplessly watch yourselves being ripped off every. single. damn. time your car requires any help just in the name of safety. You might be able to afford this on your cushy permanent job pay that is THREE times my pay. But I CANNOT AFFORD TO BE AND REFUSE TO BE AS STUPID AND LACK AS MUCH LIFE-SAVVY SKILLS AS YOU PEOPLE.
- I’m the ‘reason’ for their broken marriage due to my disobedience. And I’m partly the reason why they ‘stay together’ according to my mother. Just for the kids. Just because we’re the problem ones here of course. Whispered pleas from my mother for me to obey and appease my father to “avoid conflict” even though I’m “right”. To hell with you. The both of you. The stench of passive aggression and aggression and power struggles over me are making me nauseous.
- Disobedience was and is out of the question. Every move, whether verbal or physical, is made to show me who is in control. “You need to pour tea for me like this every time my cup is empty to show your respect for me. Now you do it.” “I never wanted you to begin with” “you should have never been born” “You own nothing, I bought everything so I can do what I want.” The threats of putting me up for adoption when I was young, drenching me with water when I misbehaved, threatening to strangle me, throwing me out and refusing to open the door, slapping me, forcing me to eat out the garbage can.. even when I feel physically repelled by my father, he tries to force hugs on me when he feels like it. What a pig. You are NOT laying a finger on me without my fucking permission.
- Oh, you don’t have a relationship? We don’t believe you, especially someone of your age. They barely ever believe me for my word. First, I have seldom lied to you. Second, I have NEVER been in a relationship. My mother even ransacked my internet media page behind my back when I forgot and left it open on the family laptop to track down a friend she thought I was having a relationship and rifled through his profile. I felt so violated when I found it in the internet history- yet she asks all baffled and hurt as to why I won’t add her on media. Do you really think I will give you permission to stick your big nose into all areas of my life after the violations you have done to me? I can’t go anywhere without questions and tabs being placed on me. I can’t go out with any person of the opposite gender without noses poked into my business. The one time I went to work at friend’s place of the opposite gender, they adamantly refused for what he could do to me. Rape me. That’s all they ever think about. I was not allowed to tutor students of the opposite gender alone unless if my mom was ever so (un-)subtly watching from the kitchen, doing “dishes”. This is even students who’s parents are good friends with mine Their warped beliefs are so out of touch with reality I want to scream. To them, everyone is out to deflower their dainty little possession. To them, the world is a terrible place full of pedophiles and molesters. Friend’s parents offer to drive you across the border for a day field trip? Nope, you might be kidnapped. Friend invites you to a church event? Allowance – but very uneasy allowance because my friend of 6 years will use the trip as a ploy to try to convert me according to them.
- My academic decisions were never my own. If I had it my way, I would be in fine arts. But instead, I’m drowning in something, that if I was completely honest with myself, I have to try hard not to hate and can barely survive in. In grade 1, I was not allowed to play like other kids. I was put in piano, 2 language classes, skating, and swimming classes and having a day to myself was something very special and very rare for me. I was not allowed to continue with gymnastics after their fear I’d fall and break my back. I was not allowed to listen to radio music other students listened to, because my parents hated the music. They forced me to change to a private school under the false belief that it would shelter me from bullying in public school. They forced me to take exams in GRADE 7 to apply for special school programs. To hell with these. I was accepted to a fine arts mini school I loved, but its reputation was not good enough for my parents. So my wants were not even considered. Fine, I wanted an IB program I was accepted to. But my mother “helplessly” had to overthrow my decision at last minute and moved me to a program of her choice because she could not accept the possibility of the IB program kicking me and that the school could potentially disallow me from continuing as a student in that school after this. My internet history was monitored daily by my father not for inappropriate material, but to control how much I was playing on the internet. My internet was limited to enforce a limitation on how much I could use the internet. I was forced to have 4 tutors (math, english, science, socials) when my grades were not as they expected. I hated my classes. But I had to take the classes to “secure my chance in going to university and getting scholarships”. My father threatened the principal at my high school because of the poor education provided by my mathematics teacher.
I just want to be afforded the opportunity to make my own decisions and mistakes. Even at my age, I am not allowed to. Even being hundreds of miles from my parents for months, I am not allowed to. I explicitly ask for independence, for the chance to make my own decisions, yet I am not afforded this opportunity as an adult, even. The resentment and hatred I feel towards my parents is only the tip of the iceberg. I hate “home”. I hate my “parents”. I feel like my growth has been severely stunted because of them and this makes it hard for me to relate to others, find what I love, and understand modern day issues.
And no one understands. To everyone else, it is an acceptable act of love: “Oh, they just love you. You’re lucky to have them. You should not complain.”. I want to cry so bad. No one sees what they do to me mentally and how much I hate “home”. It’s not that they don’t mean well. But no one understand how they have allowed anxiety issues and control issues to run rampant. I’m a complete mess inside, struggling to stand up for myself. Outside, a cold front is all that remains for them. My father barely knows how old I am, my dad doesn’t care about what I’m doing – and neither of my parents know much about my life because I refuse to let them in anymore. I don’t want to go back. I don’t love them. I feel like breaking down in tears when I think about how I will have to go back to the hellhole, back into the shackles and chains I was born into.
I feel.. deprived of emotional privacy and the right to make bad decisions.
And I can’t accept it.