Broken but not Destroyed

when it all began

Just like how your life begins with your childhood, so does my story. My childhood has been one of the most important events in my life and as strange as it is to me, I can remember things in my childhood that have happened yet not remember what I ate for lunch two days ago. With that said, let's begin.

This story is not made up and 100 percent real. At the age of now 20 years old, I think that it's a good age to actually start reflecting about my life and start thinking of how I am to proceed. The odd thing is that I am properly reflecting about my life whilst lying on the bed provided by my grandmother as I left home to get away from the toxicity of my parents. Right my parents. I'll get to them soon don't you worry.

So, I grew up in a pretty decent household. I am lucky to say that I have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in, food to satisfy my stomach and the most important ingredient to a modern Asian child's recipe of life: Education. I also have a younger sister whom I'm very close to and two parents who say they love me. Now at this point you may be thinking, "She says she has all these things yet she's upset? She must be so entitled." Ah but you haven't heard the entire story to make any judgements. And that's why I'm taking you all the way back to my childhood so you may understand how I ended up in this state.

All my problems started at the age of around 11-12 years old when school work was highlighted as the most important thing in my life aside from tennis. Yes, my parents love tennis so much, that they enforced it upon their children to pick it up as well. And not just play for fun, no, it's to compete. From a very young age I was under the impression that competition was a good thing. I was very often compared to my cousins who were excelling in their school work and also compared to other children whom we were friends with. I do agree that competition is good to a certain extent, and it did build my tough mentality but thinking back to when I was much younger, it didn't do any good for me then. All I experienced was loss, pain and disappointment. I even had a tutor who constantly made fun of my intellect and compared me to my sister who is three years younger than me.

"You're not good enough" and "You're not smart enough" were phrases that have been thrown at me since I was 12. But when I was young, I didn't feel as hurt as I do now. All I did was rant about my tutor and my parents in my diary and that was it. I would endure the insults again the next day when it came but I would write and forget.

Then one day, my parents took my sister and I to see a psychiatrist or psychologist I'm not sure, to take an IQ test. I was nervous because I was told by teachers that I wasn't very smart, and seeing my school grades, they weren't wrong. But I did the test anyway. Turns out I have an average IQ of 108 which is not high but not too low for someone who does badly in school. This IQ score somehow made my parents feel relieved that they didn't birth an idiot but rather a lazy child who disliked studying. But from that day onwards, I was lesser than my sister.

She scored higher than me (I can't remember her score maybe 130 and above) and that made my parents realize what a genius their second child is. I was always being compared to her after that. It hasn't stopped. Till this day, everything I do is being compared to my sister, and if it's not as impressive as her, I'm a failure. My parents may deny this but that's how I was taught and that was how I understood it since I was young. She beat my score during PSLE and my parents were counting on her to beat my improved O level's score but to their horror, their smart child underperformed. They then started praising me at the expense of my sister, that I was not as smart or talented, but still scored better because I worked harder. Regardless of what they thought of me, I wanted to do well in school to prove them wrong and to show them I am smart. Not stupid and hardworking, but smart and hardworking. But nothing ever goes your way in life right?

So now that you know about my education and how competitive it is, it's time I took you deeper. My relationship with my family. My relationship with my mother was not the best and honestly, I can't remember a single time I was happy with just her. She was always nagging me, scolding me, blaming me for everything. How was I supposed to be around someone who can't stand me as much as I can't stand her? I admit then when I was younger, I had a temper and "attitude" , as they like to call it. But they somehow don't see that I was a teenager back then. I was still a child. Yet they expected me to act grown up and mature. What? Did they actually want a pre-mature kid? Anyways, so that's my relationship with my mother. Not good.

Now onto my father. He disappoints me the most. I was closer to him. Closest to him in fact. I trusted him with all my heart, every time I argued with my mother I would go to him. But he hurt me very deeply not once, but twice. The first time was when I was 13. He was acting strange. One time when our whole family was out for dinner, we walked past a group of older kids and a girl was not wearing a bra, my mum said I cannot go out like that in the future and my extra father, decided to touch my back and asked me, "Are you wearing a bra?"

I didn't say anything but got upset. When we were home I told my mother and she didn't say much other than "you know your father is strange sometimes". And after that there were many more incidents. We aren't allowed to lock our doors so that time my father would just come barging into the room while we were showering, and mind you I was a teen with boobs and private parts. I was pissed. I told him many times, as well as others, to KNOCK before coming in. Okay so he knocked once, then just came in before hearing me say anything. I was naked and I screamed at him to get out and he got upset and muttered "there's nothing to see anyways." Before you puke your guts out, there's more.

The triggering point was when I was reading books on a kindle when I came across some weird erotic books in my library. The only person other than me that uses the kindle was my dad. I immediately showed it to my mother and she confronted him. He denied it and said someone else hacked into the account and downloaded those books. I believed it then but I don't now. He would also watch sex scenes and kissing scenes openly and just comment at how sexy or beautiful the actresses are, and then turn to my mother and say "but not as beautiful as you." I had to restrain myself from not punching him in the face every time he said that. Anyways, because of that, both my sister and I stopped talking to him and stopped trusting him. He was a pervert and a monster. I couldn't be around him without feeling preyed on and violated.

But after his many apologies and promise to not do it again, I forgave him. It happened again 5 years later when I was 18. That was the end of my close relationship with my father. Even though I forgave him again, I can't see my father the same way I saw him when I was younger. I can't trust him the same way I did as a child. I'm not a child anymore and I see things more clearly now. So I distanced myself from him.

Now, right at this moment, I have no parents. I mean I do, physically, but that's just what they are. Figures. I always thought parents are the only people you can trust, the only ones whom you can run to when you're having a bad day, the ones that will protect you from getting hurt. But that's not true. At least for mine. They're manipulative, narcissistic and hypocritical. They pretend to listen to you, they pretend to help you but in fact, behind your back, they discuss about what to do with you, to send you off to China's boarding school or to take away your phone or whatever you deem precious to you. Some say this is good strict parenting and to a certain extent it is. But how's it good parenting if the child suffers so badly from it till she cries herself to sleep every night? Till she walks on eggshells around her parents everyday, afraid to make the wrong move? Or until she has thoughts, of jumping off the 20th floor and ending her life right there and then?

I never thought it would come to this. I never thought I would actually leave home and live with my grandmother, away from my parents. When I was young, I always wanted to run away but had no where to run to and lacked the courage to do so. My parents made fun of me, saying I'm a coward because I didn't run. My father called me fragile from getting upset when my mother told me to shut up at the dinner table for talking too much. My father also said he is entitled to act inconsiderately, to be demanding and rude, just because he provides money for the family. My mother orders me around the house and always sees me as the bad guy. When I'm just sitting in my room minding my own business, she comes in and says "I'm warning you not to start with your attitude". After so many years of hearing that and seeing my reaction, she still doesn't get it and doesn't care. She's never once apologized to me for anything because she never sees herself as doing something wrong.

Yes. Call me entitled, call me rude, call me despicable, fragile whatever you want till I break into pieces. But you can't destroy me. And this is only the beginning.