Why I Hate My Family: A Short Story
This was an interesting essay that I wrote when I was seething with rage and hate after an argument with my family. It was during my second year of University when I had gotten a job placement and hadn’t really figured out my gender identity just yet. I really do feel lucky in being able to look back and see what an impact family power dynamics / patriarchy / depression can have on an individual.
Please note trigger warnings for depression and suicidal thoughts - please practice self-care when reading and if you feel like you need help, please reach out to a 24/7 online chat or a hotline. Although I felt paranoid at the time of writing the essay, I did eventually reach out for help. That decision was definitely painful to make, but it did help me get better over time.
Why I Hate My Family: A Short Story
I have four members in total in my family: Myself, my brother, my mother and my father. I will be going through why I hate each of them in reciprocal order.
My Father – Why I hate him you ask? He’s one of the most self-righteous men I’ve ever met, who ALWAYS thinks his opinion is correct or that his plan of action is always the right way to go. No wonder my mother lies and deceives him when it comes to important matters, since it’s usually his way or the highway. He called me a liar today, when I brought up a past event in my early years when I had run away and he was able to catch me and punish me accordingly. But he says that in his family, they never abuse the girls in the family. Well, tell that to my vivid memory of being slapped across the face with my world turning blue. But apparently, he doesn’t remember the whole ordeal. Another thing I hate about him is his chauvinistic and sexist attitude about girls having the same privileges as boys. I have been put under curfew, while my brother can roam around alone in the late hours of the night. I can’t move out and live in an apartment on my own unless I get married first. Meanwhile, he can’t stop telling me stories about his early days where he took driving trips across the world on his own. He keeps telling me that times were different then, and that it’s a lot more dangerous now to travel alone. I guess I don’t hate my dad, if anything, I’m probably jealous that I can’t do the same with my own life. Don’t get me wrong, my father still loves me and he still wants the best for me, but I just wish he’d stop imposing on everyone what he thinks is right.
Now my mother … what can I say? Well, I can’t really say I love her, because I don’t. Any time that I find myself happy, my mother is usually out of the picture. She has this form of schizophrenia that makes her go ballistic over the smallest things as well as have extreme mood swings. I can’t say that it’s her fault, and I know I should try making things easier for her, but I can’t help but be a little selfish. Why should I sacrifice the prime of my youth in accommodating her special needs? I think what’s worse is that I don’t want to accommodate her at all. Why? Every single time she sees me, she has something negative to say. It’s my hair, my weight, my clothes, my mannerisms – anything that she finds wrong with me she says it and then it’s up to her to fix all of it because she wouldn’t be a good mother if she didn’t. Plus, I’ll never get Mr. Right if I don’t look absolutely perfect. So you can see why I would be less than thrilled in helping her get ‘better’. I don’t wish her ill, but I do wish that she wasn’t in my life right now. She’s the only other female member in my family, but I can never confide anything to her since she’ll pass immediate judgment and go crazy over my problems and consequent decisions. I don’t know if she loves me or not, because for some reason, I don’t really care.
Next is my brother, the only member for which I can really say that I still like him for who he is. He’s the only one for which I can say that I dislike this and that, but I still thoroughly enjoy his company. So let’s get down to the nasty stuff – I don’t like when he’s constantly egotistical about everything he does. Lines such as “I have an amazing singing voice” or “I have this amazingly ability to know exactly what people are thinking” aren’t exactly humble you know. Sure, it projects confidence, but the world isn’t all about him and his amazing abilities. It’s funny, because sometimes his statements are true, but sometimes he’s just taking credit for other people’s work (without knowing it). Another thing that I absolutely hate about him is his inability to know when to keep things between us. It seems that anytime we have a good discussion about goals, dreams and life in general, he has to tell either my mother or my father about it. Especially if it’s something that he doesn’t think I should be doing or thinking. Also, what really gets to me is that he always thinks he’s the most stable and sensible person in our family, because he never has to talk about any issues that are affecting his life.
And finally, my head is now on the chopping block. Why do I hate myself? Well, there’s my inability to make commitments to people - friendships are about give and take and I usually do neither. I never get close to anyone since that would mean that I would have to put myself out there and risk being vulnerable. I constantly try and put on a façade to hide what I’m really thinking (but it usually doesn’t work, as even strangers ask me why I look so sad or angry). I also hate the fact that I’m a girl. Would I have all these stupid thoughts and feelings if I was a guy? Would I be as restricted in my activities as a guy? Would I not be expected to be mature and marry at young age if I was a guy? My mother said that when she was pregnant with me, she was wishing for another boy since her extended family was pressuring her to have another boy. I’m not saying that I want to become a boy right now (it’s way too late for that), I’m just saying that would I be as screwed up if I was born a boy? The problem is, is that I emulate a lot of the behaviors that boys usually have, and I definitely believe that I should have the right to do so without constant judgment and ridicule.
The reason for this on the fly essay about hate is because I was really beginning to feel happy in my life - the happiest that I have ever been. I was beginning to connect more with my friends, I was exceeding expectations in my work life, I was setting goals for a future possible start up and I was taking up some great volunteer activities that were helping me feel like I was part of something. But it all just came crashing down today with another of one of my father’s ‘talks’. My mother was feeling like she wasn’t being treated right by me and I gave her the reason above (which was kind of hard for me to say). And now my father says we should put some action plan into place where I should start changing my isolated behavior and learn to like my mother. What’s sad is, is that we have had these kinds of ‘talks’ almost every four months and they’ve dealt with almost every issue I’ve mentioned above. I always bottle up my thoughts and feelings and they come exploding out in one go (and usually in one of these ‘talks’).
I’ve thought about suicide for a couple of years now, because for some reason I feel so trapped. I can’t tell my family what I think, because they’ll either pass judgment on what I think or they’ll try and make me change what I think. I can’t talk to a psychiatrist or a social worker because they’ll call the police and make the whole thing public. I can’t talk to a suicide hotline because they can probably track the location of my phone (or pay phone) through GPS and call the police. I can’t talk to my friends, because we’re not all that close, and they’ll probably call suicide prevention. I can’t post stuff on the internet because the IP Address is traceable unless I use a proxy server (which I don’t trust too much) or a neutral location such as an internet café (again, it’ll probably be too close to my location).
I can’t even commit suicide, because I feel guilty of the unspeakable shame it’ll bring to my family and my ‘noble’ heritage. All I can really do is sit and wait …
Post Secret
13345 Copper Ridge Rd,
Germantown, Maryland
20874
P.S.: I was planning to print it out and post it to Post Secret, but I never did due to my paranoia. If needed, here are the links to the 24/7 online chat and hotline. Thanks for reading.
