Love is a strange animal. People are willing to do all sorts of unseemly things for the sake of it or fall into all sorts of sorry states all because of the lack thereof. It isn't an emotion based on any kind of logic, really, it would seem. It is powerful enough to overcome race and status and all else, yet it is still frail enough to be shattered by the smallest misunderstanding. While being a mighty force that brings people together, it is often the very wedge which drives them apart.
I feel that it is the most... treacherous emotion.
One might say that my relationship with my parents is more or less comfortable. We've managed somehow to reach a state of equilibrium. I love my parents and I know that, in turn, they also love me, but that's where it ends. As much as I hate to admit it, I don't feel I can really say that I respect my parents--they certainly don't extend such a courtesy to me--more... I accept that they think and behave in such a manner that is in accordance with their own beliefs.
Maybe it's horrible to say I don't respect them, but in thinking of it, I really don't believe I can say I do. How can I? They have no qualms about using their position in my life to force me to mold myself to the way they think I should be. One incident which still smolders in the back of mind is the time they threatened to pull my tuition if I purchased any more movies (the disks in question were a birthday gift). Before that, they forced me to throw out my DVD collection. "It's your decision," I was told at that time. Yet, when I tried to decide not to throw them out, such an action was denied. I had no choice. The collection made its way to the trash.
I've gotten smart lately. I've learned to play the part they have given me so as to avoid conflict with them. I admit to being wrong when my logic has no fault. Why? Because as unreasonable as their actions may be, as much as I despise that which I must become when I am with them, I do believe that their actions towards me are motivated by love. They've done so much for me and I love them, but that's it. I don't respect them and they don't respect me. In their eyes there is only one way Mel can be and in the end, I can't--and won't--live up to their expectations, because that would be untrue to myself. It kills me that they will never fully accept me for who I am. Every time I live my life just to please them, a part of me dies. I'm tired of the duality of trying to be me and trying to be the person they think I should be. Someday, that will end.
Love... is the most treacherous emotion. How else could it wreak so much havoc? How else could it inflict such pain?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comments:
lol. At least your not gay. *Hugs* Let us just say that I completely know where you're coming from. ;).
As far as the emotion being treacherous. Wouldn't know. I only love a few people and they've never let me down. You being one of them. *Hugs*.
I love my mom - don't EVER want to have anything to do with my dad and that word - but I don't respect my parents. Or most people. I must be the most horrible person ever!!
Hmmmm. I never felt any kind of love towards anyone until high school. I didn't even know what it meant. Weird, huh. *Shrug*. That's the atmosphere I grew up in though.
I truly am sorry that your parents refuse to see the smart, caring, responsible, independent, talented, beautiful, creative, imaginative, stubborn - but with a heart of pure gold - fangirl they've raised. You are my hero and my one, true, uncompromising friend. Thank you for always being there for me. :).
Post a Comment