She

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn’t your father, or mother, or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

He’s the fellow to please – never mind all the rest
For he’s with you, clear to the end
And you’ve passed your most difficult, dangerous test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you’ve cheated the man in the glass

- ‘The Man in the Glass’ by Peter Dale Wimbrow Sr.

She couldn’t remember the memories of yesterday, when her mother and father bought her a cake. if ever she was the one who blew her first candle as a baby, or if she cried with glee while her mother and father looked at her with their faces filled with happiness. To her, this was just all a make-believe memory. Each year as she celebrated her birthday, she could always remember the feeling of being ecstatic, for her mother and father often set up a party and buy her lots of gifts. But then something changed, starting on her seventh birthday, when her father no longer came to greet her a ‘happy birthday’, and so she celebrated her birthday with her mom and with the absence of him. Then days went by, she no longer heard the news of her father and she didn’t know anything at all because her mother never told her what really happened, and the question that formed in her mind was: Where did he go?

Even with the absence of her father, she grew up normally with the love of her mother and had a nice upbringing. She knew she was a little spoiled for being an only child, but they loved her anyways—at least that’s what she thought—but growing up is hard, she realized, especially when you grow older each passing year. Again, more birthdays came and went by, but no father showed up to celebrate it with her. And her mother looked at her tiredly, every time she asked where her father went. Until she gave up asking her mother who no longer cared about her father’s whereabouts. Little did her mother know, she was also tired of being asked the same questions about her father by the people around her.

Days went to years, expectations from her family started to pressure her. She was always expected to be a good child and never to be the rebel. She could not even afford to be impolite because she was constantly reminded by her grandmother of how her mother brought her up all by herself and that she was the one who was always taking care of her while she was young. Although she never brought it up, she knew that her father was driven away by her grandmother and her father gave up chasing her grandmother’s expectation of him so he left them. But still, her grandmother’s words made her feel as if it was her fault for being alive. So, she could never escape the guilt from those thoughts. She could only be a good daughter to ease the guilt, but of course she wasn’t perfect, like every person, she made mistakes too.

She went to school in order to learn and study, she ate what was prepared in the table, she did her school works independently, she even took care of her dying grandfather even when she was tired from school, and she complained less. Her mother praised her of achievements and her so-called “talents” but in the end, they only considered her to become someone she was not. Her aunt disapproved of her drawings and paintings because they wanted her to sing, however she didn’t want to. She could see disappointment etched on their faces when she refused and it made her lose interest to sing and draw. She no longer enjoyed singing as before and she stopped wanting to draw. Instead of blessings, she prayed to God to take away her ability to learn and talents, for they were not of her own choice instead, they were becoming a burden. And she prayed that she may never wake up ever again in her sleep.

She was never comforted by her mother nor her friends, because she kept all her problems to herself. Everything she felt, the sadness or the misery, she kept in heart, convincing herself that she hated no one when she hated herself for being alive. Some people would think she’s so lucky to be able to have expensive things compared to some people who are suffering from poverty and who can’t manage to buy their own food. Still, she would prefer dying. They could have everything she had. They don’t realize that she is tired of being with her family, and of living with their expectations. Because they always say the same things robotically, until it becomes permanent on her mind.

I love you…Take care of your brothers…Do well in school and study…Do the dishes…Take care…

And?

Useless…Do something useful for a change…Be thankful for what I’ve given you…Stupid child…No manners…

Their words hurt her and the worst is, she believes the negative words more than their positive words.

Do they still remember? Remember what she did for them, remember what she contributed to them, remember that she helped them. Remember how she always tried to be the good one. Remember how she always try to do well in school to make them proud. All of the things she was doing was for her family. Yet, is it still not enough? Their negative words weigh more than sugar-coated words, until she comes with a conclusion that no matter what she does and how hard she tries, she will never be enough. And the thoughts of being imperfect, incompleteness and being unhappy begins to settle in, and starts to build up rage in her heart, until she could only blame herself.

They don’t realize that they’re killing her.

And they’re killing me.