Feeling something is missing inside. Try to always impress your parents. I went to school, got excellent grades, made friends, teachers loved me, had a great life right? Wrong. It was all a camouflage because really all the success and all the admiration I got from others was a big mistake. Everything I did as a child was not because I wanted to do it, or because I felt like doing it. I did it all to try to get some recognition, but not from my teachers, not from my peers or friends, I did it all to be able to go to my dad and tell him, “Hey I exist, look I am doing something with myself, so aren’t you proud?”
Everyday of my childhood it was a competition with my siblings to try to get my dad’s attention. To those who have met him, he seems like a normal dad. Hard worker who came to American looking for a better future and began to work as a truck driver at the age of 20. His arms were strong, his complexion dark from the sun after hours and hours of working down the road. His eyes blue as the sky. Then he met my mother, a heartbroken woman who had just found her fiancé in bed with another woman. A week later, she began to date my dad, although not because she wanted to, but because a friend wanted to help her get over her ex. Soon she began to fall for this handsome man with blue eyes, and strong arms. She had just been in America for 4 years and worked in a factory making those cute glow in the dark sticks. They soon got engaged a year later and pop, I was born. A year later, pop another one was born, my sister, and the family got bigger and bigger. My mother never imagined the hard work she would be putting into this marriage and I think she could have read this; she would have never married the man she is as she says, Stuck with, now. I cannot blame my father for his attitude change; it simply got destroyed one fragment at a time with his illness.
Sounds confusing already, tell me about it. I grew up in a home where the men were treated with benefit while the women were the “maids.” My father’s mentality made it almost impossible to ever get any attention or recognition. If I had a good grade in an exam, I would run to my daddy’s arm to try to show him, but instead I got a push on the back and a yell saying, “Quitate no me importa” or “get away, I don’t care.” As a 7 year old I was told that daddy was just having a bad day but now I’ve come to realize, as long as my father knows I am woman, no certificate, trophy, medal, or grade will make my dad proud of me. He only believes that I am useful to work, make money give it to my husband and have children. I am basically a walking uterus to my father. How does that ma me feel, powerless because I have tried almost everything in my hands to prove myself to him.
Who am I kidding I tried everything. Student of the year every single year of my life, Honor roll, high test scores, impeccable grades, outstanding student, and the list goes on and on. I even learned how to play the guitar, joined many choirs, extreme amount of extracurricular activities, charity work, etc. Nothing has ever been good enough for him. He did not attend any of my graduations, not my preschool one, not my middle school one, nor my high school graduation. My dad never has showed any appreciation for my efforts to impress him, and all these awards and impeccable records have not been worth it. Sure, I got into many universities and sure many people acknowledge my hard work, but to me none of it was worth it because the only reason I did them was not for me but to get attention. It has not been till my last years in high school that I realized I had to change. If I wanted to take those 4 AP classes it was for me not to impress anyone. If I wanted to have 3 music bands it was for me and not to impress anyone. If I wanted to go to college it was for me not to impress anyone. It took me 17 years of my life to realize I was better than all of this. I needed to change.
Some who read this may thing, what a selfish bitch, she has this great life and she whines about it. Well think again. I may have many things in life, but if I don’t have the support from my family, it makes everything complicated. Imagine this: I would get home from school at around 6 at night daily because of my extracurricular activities I was organizing; I get home to find my mother struggling to feed the 4 of us, then cleaning and helping my little brothers with homework. She would go to work from 8 am to 12 pm, go to English school from 1pm to 3 pm, and get home to find a mess, clean up a bit, make dinner and so on. When I got home it would be my turn to take care of my little brothers giving her time to do her own homework, shower and eat. I would then have to deal with piles of homework from my 3 AP classes, then after finishing that homework, usually organize events for the clubs I was a part of and I would end up going to bed at around 3 am daily. This sounds complicated right. Now I forgot a small detail. Picture my dad getting home from work at 11pm and taking away my computer, scream and yell at us for about 30 minutes about how his day was hell, make me and my sister prepare him food while he went to yell at my mother, then sit down and begin to smoke indoors with the door closed and windows well shut. This was my daily routine. Arguing and trying to multi task. I was not allowed to have any quiet time because in my one bedroom home, this was normal. It got to the point of being a routine that I was used to and to this day, probably not much has changed except for the fact that I don’t live at home and my mom stands up for herself now more than before.
I dealt with this type of behavior all m childhood, teen years and when I go home on the weekends. The reason why I joined so many activities at school was to keep my mind working on something. I feared quiet time and the thought of not having something to do scared me because it meant my dad would see me resting and assume it would be a good time to make me clean and do even more chores. I needed excuses to keep myself active and when I entered high school, I had to start my own clubs in order to keep myself busy. It was a huge roller coaster especially as my dad began to get ill. At first it was the usual fevers and colds, but then these colds and days of constant mood swings got to him. He finally saw a doctor and was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. This hit us all like a heavy anchor. My dad might have been this evil person I would try to impress all the time and treated us like crap, but the idea of a life without him was horrible. He was the man of the house, the one who brought in the money, who kept everyone on check, and even though we all feared him, I loved him because he was my dad. My dad. The man who made me. No matter how horrible things could have been I loved him for who he was because deep down he loved us too.
This made him change. It may not seem as if he did because the mood swings have gotten worst and the yelling persists but the fact is, he actually opened up to his family. I no longer live at home but I go to college and am trying to find my path in the real world. It may not be enough time to show my dad who I want to be In the future, but in the meantime I try to spend some quiet time with my dad. I may still be a walking uterus but now that he knows tie is precious, he tries to make us feel welcomed in our home. Before my home was more of a prison and now we go out as a family, he tries to talk to us individually about our day and just became a new person. This does not mean he changed completely but I understand, since his sickness makes him feel irritated and frustrated at times. I love my dad no matter what I have gone through. Everything I did to get his attention got me to where I am now and I thank him for it. He may never get to read this but I just needed to let it out. I’ve been living back home this first week of my vacation. Just finished my first year in college. I screwed up a bit but now I understand I cannot always be the perfect 4.0 student. My dad taught me that we all make errors but there is always time to make up for them. He is doing that now. It has been 7 days of living back into the yelling routine but this time the yells aren’t because he is angry, they are because his stomach hurts. His head is pulsating, his feet are swollen, and he can’t hold in the pain. It breaks my heart to see the man who raised me to be a tough cookie, slowly breaking down into a weak and fragile man. He is only 45 and already going bald due to the medication, pants falling because of the excessive weight loss, and the worst part, his strong arms are now weak and wrinkled.
His eyes are now very dull and this man is not the same man on the exterior but inside, he is showing all of us, that he is sorry for his previous mistakes but in the short time left he will take advantage of his family. Honestly there has not been a day of this week where I have felt like crying because my dad was my hero, my superman, nothing can hurt him.
I am the oldest of the 4, and if he is gone I will be the one taking care of the family. The responsibility is already killing me slowly but in the eyes of my family I have to stay strong. How do I explain to my 9 year old brother that daddy is in the hospital again for a checkup because he is dying? How do I look at my mom in the eyes and tell her everything will be alright? I have no idea how but I have been doing it and this summer, I am trying my best to just appreciate every single minute, hour and day I have with him.
I am sorry if this was a bit long, but it’s about 3 am and I had to let it out and just have it written so I never forget that I can do this, and that my life will continue to have its ups and downs but I have made it so far so why can’t I continue, right? Besides, life is like a penny, unappreciated but I will change that as time passes.
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