So, when I was a 3 year old (soon 4 to be) the struggles of my life began, before that time I do not remember much but after the age of 3 I remember everything very clearly.
Back then I was shifting from Islamabad to Peshawar. In Peshawar the struggles began when my mom got depression. We faced a lot of difficulties because of it, being a 3 year old I saw things which I shouldn't be seeing, and mentally it tortured me so much that now when I'm 18 I'm still not over it, but you know what? In a brown household no one would ever agree to that, people here think you go through trauma and end up all fine and normal, as if we're some super natural creatures.
So, when my mom was suffering from depression, in that time period I started my school and I had to look after myself all by myself as well as I had to look after my younger brother too. When my younger brother got into school he was all on me and by that time I was almost 7.
It was not easy back then, it really was not. When I used to go to my granny's house, my mom's sisters used to bully me for the way I looked. They used to say look at her big nose, her hair are so untidy, oh how thin she is as if she's about to die, she looks like a stick, she is darker than other kids, she's not much beautiful and the worst part was when my mom used to accompany them. She used to tell me that I do not look like her because she's more beautiful than me and that her nose is more prettier than me. Finally, I ended up hating myself, who I was and how I looked like.
YOU ARE READING
LIVING IN A BROWN HOUSEHOLD.
Non-FictionI don't usually write stories, but this is my story, my very personal story. In this story you will get to know how I suffered in a brown household.
