It's Always Been You

Tangled in Moonlight

"Fia, we're going to be on such a tight schedule. Is there no way you can come home earlier for the dress fitting?" My mother's voice echoed through the phone, laced with a thinly veiled exasperation that grated against my already tattered nerves.

I was so swamped with the relentless tide of studying, the last thing my weary mind craved was a conversation with my mother.

However, if I had declined her call like every fibre of my being wanted to, she would have only found more reasons to unleash her torrent of disapproval upon me.

My mother had a way of finding fault with just about every single facet of my existence-a critical eye that seemed to overlook no perceived flaw, no matter how minute or inconsequential.

I sighed, a heavy exhalation that carried the weight of a thousand burdens, and ran a hand down my face, my body feeling exhausted and worn out like a well-trodden path. "Mom, I'm going to be home for weeks. I can't just come back before the Winter break starts. I have classes and exams are coming up."

My mother sighed dramatically through the phone, her theatrics amplified by the tinny speaker. "Fia, this is about your sister. You're being so selfish. It's her big day and you can't make any compromises."

My jaw fell slack, the urge to ram my head into the table before me suddenly very tempting.

I tried to keep a calm and quiet voice since I was sitting in the campus library, but it was hard to stay patient when it came to my mother's ceaseless demands.

Luckily for me, it was quite late in the evening and the library was going to be closing soon. There was nobody sitting near me and not many people in the library right now anyways, so nobody was going to overhear my bickering with my mother-a small mercy in the midst of this familiar storm.

"Mom," I gritted out, my annoyance bubbling to an unsafe level akin to a volatile brew threatening to boil over. "This isn't some high school class I can skip. I have serious courses and so much classwork to do. Why can't you understand that when you're the one always pestering me about my education too?"

"This is why we have been telling you to work at your father's company so one day you can inherit a proportion of it along with your sister." She spoke in a taunting and stern tone that cut deeper than any blade ever could.

This was just how my mother was.

She's narcissistic and a perfectionist, her affections and approval guarded like a miser's hoard.

She adored my sister and every little thing about her, leaving her to critique everything about me-the flawed, lesser daughter who could never quite measure up.

I tried to interact with my mother as little as humanly possible, for each encounter left me feeling diminished, like a wilting flower robbed of the sun's nourishing rays.

I clenched my jaw, growing more frustrated and annoyed with each passing moment, the weight of her disapproval settling heavily upon my shoulders like a cloak woven from lead.

I had these conversations with my family so many times, yet they failed to understand my side of anything, their eyes blinded by their own expectations and preconceived notions. "I want to make a career for myself, mother. You know I've always been interested in the medical field. I don't want to work an office job for the rest of my life."

"You should have some more respect for your father's work, Fia."

"I do respect his work," I sighed, shaking my head at the familiar pattern of her words. "I just don't want to go on the same path, career-wise, as him."

I didn't think my point was too difficult to grasp-a simple desire to forge my own path, unencumbered by the shackles of their expectations.

I was not going to allow my family to control what I end up doing for the rest of my life, no matter how much they judge me for it, no matter how relentless their disapproval.