He's got the whole world in his hands | Jeongin

Chapter sixty-one

Every time Minsi shut her eyes, she could see the judgment in Felix's eyes. The cold look of disgust made her stomach twist in knots. Every time she thought about it, she wanted to cry. She thought he was really sweet when the pair briefly met back when Jeongin passed out on stage at church. 

Now she was sure he was just like everyone else. At least, he reminded her of her mom. Why was it a crime to be in love with someone? Why did some people think it meant the entire world would end and collapse if people had sex? Why was it such a taboo topic? What was wrong with being with each other intimately and making one another feel good? 

She wanted to bash her head into the steering wheel over and over again. The cruise control button held her car at a steady speed down the vacant road. Her body jostled over the occasional pothole and she micro-adjusted the steering wheel. 

On both sides of her car, the corn fields were starting to slowly wither away into a brown. Fall was here and within a few more months, farmers would begin the tedious task of harvesting it. Farmers tucked in their warm clothes, sipping the warmth of some random drink, and spending hours out in the field hoping everything went right. 

The further she drove, the lighter she felt. She didn't plan on sticking around this town. She was going back the forty minute drive to Han and Minho's house. She felt bad for ditching Jeongin so suddenly without much of a warning, but she didn't know how long Felix was going to be there. 

Maybe the two of them would talk and Felix would leave. Perhaps, it'd lead to a lecture from Felix or maybe Jeongin would regret the entire thing all over again. She hated not knowing exactly what he wanted. She wasn't sure if he even knew. 

He wanted time, but then they were kissing. Greedy hands were on one another and it never seemed to stop. What was the meaning of it? Was there truly a meaning or had Minsi just been suckered into a one-sided relationship with a curious man who had been religiously deprived of a real relationship? 

She remembered what it was like back when she was a kid. Every religion can be different, but the way her mother taught her, she was a woman. Women, unlike their male counterparts, should be more submissive. More docile and more obedient. 

Minsi was taught to walk with her head down and her eyes bound to the floor. A woman who stood spine-straight with her chin held high was too much. No man wanted to look into the fiery eyes of a determined woman and be set straight. 

The first fight Minsi and Nari Park got into was on the same topic. Minsi was in elementary school and doing a project about what she wanted to be when she grew up. Every kid had to write three paragraphs about their future profession and draw a photo of themselves as it. It was a pretty simple task for a ten year old. 

Minsi had been exposed to a slew of professions through the previous week. The teacher had asked a variety of different people to come in and spend a few minutes discussing their profession. A police officer showed up and so did a firefighter. A visit from a nearby nurse and doctor, the town's veterinarian popped in with a dog, and their teacher even got the principal to visit. 

The kids got to ask questions about their careers. After a few days of that, they were allowed to research different careers on the internet. For most kids, it was relatively simple, they already knew what they wanted to be. Some wanted to follow in the footsteps of their parents and others were bright enough to carve their own path. 

Minsi looked at a multitude, but she still didn't know what she wanted to be. There were so many options and a variety to choose from, so how was she ever supposed to pick just one? It was difficult to imagine and it was hard to find her favorite. 

From a child's perspective, most jobs seemed wildly entertaining. From helping deliver babies into the world as a nurse, to curing sick dogs as a veterinarian, and teaching the future kids of tomorrow as a teacher. The daunting task seemed impossible. 

Overwhelmed and caught up with the question, she spoke to her mom and asked for her opinion when she got home from school. She made the mistake of asking her mom what she wanted to be when she grew up and Nari just laughed. 

"There was no wanting to be anything. I already knew what I was meant to do. We're women, we're tasked with bringing in more of God's soldiers to earth. We're meant to support our husbands and raise good families." 

It stung. The words were like a slap to her face. That childish nature and curiosity suddenly began to slowly deflate like a balloon. The more Nari began to talk about their purpose, the more she began to hate her mother. This wasn't supposed to be how it went. 

Her mother was supposed to encourage her with love and support. She was supposed to be telling her that she could do whatever she wished. She was supposed to tend to her dreams and keep them ignited. She wasn't supposed to fan them away before they barely sparked. 

Minsi was ten when she sat through the lecture from her mother. She was ten and then she was eleven and then twelve and then thirteen and fourteen and so on and so forth. Over and over and over and over and over and over again. 

Girls should be taught that they are their own person. It is not a sin to set boundaries that are cemented in stone. It is not a sin to carve your own path and be your own person. It is not a sin to love whoever you want and crave another. 

It is not a sin to exist. To express your creativity. To bounce and march to the beat of your own drum. To scream beneath the moon and destroy generational trauma. To run away and find a family and to start again. It is not a sin to crave love and to want someone to know you from the inside out. 

Sometimes girlhood is playing barbies and playing pretend. It's being princesses and picking dandelions. Other times, it's playing in the mud and picking up worms. It's chasing after people with bumpy ugly toads and shriek-laughing as they urinate all over your hands. Girlhood is objectively different for every girl. 

Yet other times, some young girl's girlhood is destroyed by her own mother before she even gets to fully experience it.