I hate being Asian. I hate being forcefully, guiltily bound by culture. I hate the fact that I can't venture out or be independent without feeling like I'm turning my back on my family. At the same time, I resent them for making me feel like this. I could never do any extracurricular activities in high school or even in college because my mind would automatically go the question - Who will take care of my little sister? What would my parents think?
I hate her for it. I hate her for being born. I hate the fact that my parents depend on me... they depend on me to drop whatever the hell it is I am doing in order to follow their every whim. To mop up a flooded basement, to plow snow, to just be a presence in a house that I stopped considering a home long time ago... I am expected to drop whatever it is I'm doing and travel across the city for such trivial matters.
Yes, they fed me, clothed me, and gave me a home. But what was it for? Was it so they could ask me to repay such a debt someday? Or was it to share an unconditional love with another human being and to nurture such life until it can be its own autonomous being? I don't know. Whenever I defy their will the idea of being an ungrateful child is laid upon me. They gave me this, they gave me that, they gave me those... and how do I repay them? That's the thing, it seems to be a conditional love based on repayment. It's ensured that I don't forget it.
I am expected to succeed in this world. In this western world with western standards while bound to the expectations of those with an eastern perception of the world. It's emotionally conflicting. The eastern, collectivist expectations they have of me keep me from succeeding.
I resent them for it. I resent myself for caring for them. I hate them for making me feel guilty about wanting to grow into my own... without them.
Frankly, it's moments like this that I get a certain feeling and thought... I wouldn't mind if they died. It would finally give me freedom. I would finally be unbound from rules and responsibilities irrelevant to me. I would be free.
Yes. I am saying that I would actually be a bit relieved if my parents or even little sister were to just drop dead.
I'm a bad person. I know.
I hate her for it. I hate her for being born. I hate the fact that my parents depend on me... they depend on me to drop whatever the hell it is I am doing in order to follow their every whim. To mop up a flooded basement, to plow snow, to just be a presence in a house that I stopped considering a home long time ago... I am expected to drop whatever it is I'm doing and travel across the city for such trivial matters.
Yes, they fed me, clothed me, and gave me a home. But what was it for? Was it so they could ask me to repay such a debt someday? Or was it to share an unconditional love with another human being and to nurture such life until it can be its own autonomous being? I don't know. Whenever I defy their will the idea of being an ungrateful child is laid upon me. They gave me this, they gave me that, they gave me those... and how do I repay them? That's the thing, it seems to be a conditional love based on repayment. It's ensured that I don't forget it.
I am expected to succeed in this world. In this western world with western standards while bound to the expectations of those with an eastern perception of the world. It's emotionally conflicting. The eastern, collectivist expectations they have of me keep me from succeeding.
I resent them for it. I resent myself for caring for them. I hate them for making me feel guilty about wanting to grow into my own... without them.
Frankly, it's moments like this that I get a certain feeling and thought... I wouldn't mind if they died. It would finally give me freedom. I would finally be unbound from rules and responsibilities irrelevant to me. I would be free.
Yes. I am saying that I would actually be a bit relieved if my parents or even little sister were to just drop dead.
I'm a bad person. I know.