I was surfing the net in the other night when I came up to a website made by a man named Martin Gilbert II. At first, I went to the website out of curiosity and I have read some of his posts. He said that he is gay and I am applauding him for that. Being open and honest is one of my greatest fear in life. I hate judgment from people that's why I am hiding myself from them. For 30 yrs of my existence, I am running and hiding and hiding still. I really want to go out and be open to people. Let them see who I really am. Let them judge me if they can. Let them accept my failures and mistakes.
I want to shout to the world that I am alive. That I am here. That I matter. For a lot of years, it is hard for me to be open to people because of fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of ridicule. I have been to a lot of rejections and I am ashamed of my past. The past that is eating my soul. My father died 3 yrs. ago but I am still a prisoner of his cage. The cage that he had put us, the anger that he had given us, the pain that he had bestowed us. I wanna be free. I wanna go out and shout to the world. That I am a survivor. Survivor of child abuse. Survivor of life. But why I am still ashamed. Why I am still hesitating. I know a lot of people think that I am boring. That I am not lively. Maybe, I am. But I know I'm not. It's just that a lot of things had happened to me that they can't or will not relate to. Because theirs is perfect. They had a family who love them unconditionally. They had a father who cared about their welfare, who protects them from harm, who had worked hard to give them everything they need, a good college education, a good life, a stable humane emotions, a happy person that they are now. They have a mom who continuously love them, whom they love in return. A mom who is their strength when they are feeling down. A mom who will be there no matter what. A strong mom who loves her husband dearly and the mom the husband loves very passionately. A mom treated by her husband equally, with respect and admiration. Brothers and sisters they also love dearly. Who loves them in return. Brothers and sisters who continuously move forward. Who never gives up. Who is always there when they need him/her.
How can I relate to them. When I don't have what they have in their life. How can they relate to me? When all I have is a void in my heart. The fear in relationships. The fear to lose control. The fear of being known. I am still searching for my destiny. The thing that will surely make me whole again. The love that I still connects with pain and anger. The forgiveness I am still working on.
All I have is a dysfunctional family. A family who can barely takes care of themselves. A family full of secrets and shame. A dependent family. Dependent to each other for its own happiness.
How can I tell them the truth. Do I have to say everything? Do I have to disclose all the facets of my life?
How can I ask them to listen? Can I be truthful? Can I say that I had hated my father and until the day he died, was not able to forgive him? Can I say that I was a victim of child abuse? Both physically and sexually?
Can I tell them that I am afraid of the touch of a man? That I am afraid of being with a man? That my sister was sexually abused as a child and I think, I know, I am a witnessed to that? Can I tell them how fuck up my life had been before I turned around and lied. Lied about my age because I don't want to face the truth? Because I am ashamed that after graduation from secondary school, I was forced to worked in a small food establishment? Me, who had graduated with honors in elementary and became a scholar on a private school in secondary. Graduated salutatorian in secondary school. But stopped for 4 years. Worked in various odd jobs, in various fast food chains, became a miser in some part of that 4 yrs. and never had a direction on my life before. I thought that if I lie, I will going to erase those past mistakes, the 4 yrs. of misery and pain, the childhood I had, the anger I had kept in my heart for such a long time and the past that continues to haunt me still.
I want to shout to the world that I am a survivor. And yes, I am different from all of them. From the people that I knew. Because theirs is a good life, and mine is what? A bad life? No, I will have to lie that it is. Because it is not. I am still hurting but at least, I am acknowledging. This will be the first, to myself and later to the world.
We are a survivor. My family, my mom, my sisters. Theirs is a different story. Different defense mechanism. As I am writing this to all of you, my family is still the same. My eldest sister is still in pain. She is still in denial. She is coping by being a people pleaser. By not letting others see who she really is, what she is capable of. And I tell you, she is capable of a lot of things. Because she is one of the talented persons in my family. She is a poet, a writer, a song writer, an english diva, an artist. She is like my alter-ego, but with pretenses too. She is still ashamed of how her life turned out. How she did not graduate from college. She shied away from her friends, lost contact with the people that matters to her. She will crumble when life turns into something she can't and will not cope up with. She is a runner. She will run from her problems, from life, from things if her world will turn upside down. She quits if she doesn't want to fight. She worries about everything, her life, her health, her dreams, her job, her boss, her friends. She is a worrier. She used to love to kill herself, to torture people especially me, that she will kill herself. She will undressed and go down the bed. She will pretend that she has a mental problem, a sick mind, so that I will rescue her. And she love to be rescued by me. I used to hate her without me knowing it. That I hated her. I am angry with her before, because she is not the sister that I want. Because she depends on me on everything. Because she is supposed to be my elder sister and not the other way around. Because she will not accept her responsibilities. Because she is much weaker than me and she is supposed to be strong. Because she had entrusted to me the responsibilities that is supposed to be her. Because she refused to grow up and share with me the responsibilities. Because she runs and does not accept her problems. But I also love her. Her gentleness, her freedom to be someone not in control with her life, someone I am, a boring one. I admire her generosity and yes, I do understand her now. At least, a little. And someday, I will.
Then, there is my younger sister. The sister who was given everything. The sister who graduated from college at a prestigious university. The sister who did not stop her studies, who did not give up her dreams, the sister who married young, the sister who depends on her husband for almost everything. I was angry with her too, before, when I learned that she is pregnant. That was in 2004. 6 years ago. She is supposed to graduate. Like me. She is supposed to go back to us and help her mom, her family. But instead, she chose to marry young. She chose a man over us. I was angry, feel betrayed. Here I am, a single person, who focused all her life on her studies, never dated, never been kissed. And I am alone. I thought that she will share with me the responsibilities of helping our parents. Of helping her youngest sister to go to college. Of helping our family at least escape from the plague of poverty. But she did not. She fall in love and get married. She wanted a family of her own. A family different from us. A man she will love. A man who loves her. A man different from our own father. She wanted to have kids, beautiful kids she will display to the public. Kids she will dote and adore. But how can I blame her. Of wanting those things? Maybe, I was angry because I also wanted those things. But I did not choose my wants. But rather, I choose my family. How can I blame her? She did not grow up with us. She, together with my youngest sister, lived with my aunt when she is 10 and the youngest is 6. Yes, we had been broken as a child. I never knew her, what she wants, what she loves, what she needs, what is her fears, her dreams, what happened to her during those times, living in an aunt who maltreated them, who physically and verbally abused them and later, living with an uncle who sexually molested her. How can I harshly judge her when she also suffered like us. Like me. I never knew how hard it was to live without your parents, because I have one. I am the only one that my parents retained when they decided to give up their children. Maybe that is also the reason for my great sense of responsibility. I feel responsible for them, because one way or another, I am grateful to them. Now, being 30 makes me see life in a different perspective. It made me more understanding about my sister. My only regret is that I was and wasn't yet close to her. But I am building that relationship. This time, I am not buliding it based on my wants, based on my expectations from her, but based on love. I still have a long journey to go before I reach that. It is hard for me and still harder as the day passed. But I will reach it. I will reach that destination on which I will love them unconditionally.
And then, there's my youngest sister. My twin look alike. My same temperament. The bane of my existence. Why? Because, in all of my sisters, she is the most difficult one. Difficult to fathom. Difficult to read. Different temperament each day. Very stubborn. She is the one who had been my enemies before. She doesn't want my advice. She doesn't want to be controlled. She wants her freedom. She is very proud. She doesn't want to ask for my help. She wants me to give it to her. Now, this is the sister who doesn't need me. That even if she is hurting, she is in pain, will not accept my help. Will not listen to me. Will do her things according to her wants, her needs. Before, we used to fight a lot of time. Verbal attacks, physical assault. Sometimes, I got frustrated with her I became the person I hated. My father. I became violent that until this day, I regrets but still lives with it. She is the sister who did not worked, became a miser for almost 2 yrs. She even became hypochodriac. Like she had so many sickness that can't be treated. She will not work, she will not response to anything I said. She is so difficult. At least with my eldest sister, I know she listen. But this youngest sister, doesn't. It's like she wanted to punish herself for something. She wanted to die but was afraid. How frustrating. But right now, I am beginning to understand her. She had her faults, she is very stubborn, yes, but she does listen. All she wanted my approval and like a bitch, I only given her my acid tongue, always criticizing, always reprimanding. She is also one of the talented persons in the family. Intelligent, very good in drawing and can do almost anything you asked her. But sometimes, what she needs is just guidance. And not my controlling attitude. That is why right now, I am starting to build that bridge of trust again. That she can do whatever she wants, that I am just here if she needs me. But I will not control her. She is like me. So I will just support whatever she wants in her life. I do hope could hold on to that promise. I do hope that someday, I can be a better person.
I do hope that someday, I can face the world. The people that I lied with, the friends that I betrayed, the God that I continues to distrust if things go badly in my life and the men that I choose not to love. I hope that I can tell them the truth. About my life. My existence. Without asking for approval, for judgment.
