A story. That I’m still coming into grips with so pardon me if it’s not so organized.
A month ago I realized one of my greatest enemies, on the biggest long standing story/narrative I have about my struggles and woes turned out to be not true. A complete 360 like that sufi poem of how..
(1) This poor boy was taught to hate the vindictive king by his parents.
(2) The poor boy is suddenly orphaned and then said king adopted him.
(3) King was the total opposite of the story and treated the kid like his son. The son grows up and is reunited with his birth parents. He sees the staggering difference between the story and the actual experience.
Be careful with your stories, especially ones you planted in your youth.
–
And plenty of those are about your parents. And me and my capital Drama and Beef was and has always been with my Mother. My mother who never let me do anything, who never let me go to fieldtrips, who always babied me and was the source of all my insecurities and validity. The person who held me back and didn’t believe in me cause I owed her to believe in me in a twisted sense of entitlement and so forth. She wouldn’t let me commute, do grab/uber and wouldn’t let me learn to drive. I was caged in a pretty castle and I’m gonna be stuck in this fuckshit forever dahdahdhaa.
THAT Story. Also. That outdated, very victim o-poor-me vision goggles of my childhood experience. It’s easier to blame them right ? Rather than to own up to your own agency. My Drama manifested primarily in this form:
(1) I don’t feel free.
(2) You made me stop dancing in a critical point of my life before. You don’t let me go out and do shit regularly. You are the reason I am not “free”.
And then I just blew up.
Yeah.
One sunny, privileged touristy day, where my mom was mothering me too much I just fucking snapped. I stormed out of the hotel room and sat down with angry emotions making battle-plans on how to leave and move out and apply for scholarships in higher education SOMEWHERE FUCKING FAR AWAY. and god I was so angry. I was angry to a point that I felt it in my body for at least 2 other days. And you know what’e more nuts ?
I had the balls to drag my mother out of the room and tell her to listen to me. That I have Capital Feeling and you need to hear this cause I love you and I can’t be fake with you AND GADDAMNIT STOP DOING THIS TO ME.
I also called my father through the hotel free wifi.
I was literally an embodiment of a torrent of words- the words the narrative that’s well rehearsed within me for years of why I can’t go out and have a life and be myself and do things I want like ya’ll listen TO ME I’M A MESS RIGHT NOW PLEASE HAVE IT.
I had to let it out. And I needed a modicum or at least a hunch that she was hearing it. That she was understanding that I felt choked and that this was the number one most terrible thing I had in my life.
–
the funny thing is.
–
About an hour later of stewing in my feelings. I kinda demanded her an answer, a rebuttal, I wanted her to defend her fortress and spit on me to prove she was Evil and that see mom you, have you seen how fuckign evil you’ve been can you go feel like shit now ??? ANYWAY.
ANYWAY.
What’s weird is, I won. She relented to some degree that she was “kind of” wrong but only to the extent of parents wanting to protect your kids. She was angry but I’ve also verbally cornered her enough to be able to say that YES YOU’RE OLD ENOUGH TO MAKE DESCISIONS ABOUT GOING OUT. LIKE FUC HELLO. (YKNOW, THE GOLDEN TICKET I’ve wanted for ages)
And to some degree she even said that she’s never bullied me about being a sheltered kid. I just like being alone. like fuc?? That’s actually accurate ????
And I kinda just stared at her.
Like with those cat shaped, confuddled, still angry stares at her.
because (1) I’m free. (2) It was easy. Cause (3).
…
I think I should admit that was mostly in my head. Most Drama and Suffering, as Buddha said, is self-invented. Like a self-preservation of a false sense of identity ego yadhayadhyadha. All that shit I read and now I’m actually physically and literally facing right now.
I –
WAIT I’M FREE TO GO NOW ???
And now that I do have the free pass. Yknow what ?? I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
Like to some weird fucking extent, it was still me ‘holding myself back’ from a glorious ‘out there’. And it was ALSO still me that insisted that I was ‘missing cool shit’ in the first place. Like, now that you’ve got the free pass – what now ?
What . now ?
If you perceived your reality as it actually is, there’s actually a lot of self narratives that would just topple within itself. Have you ever felt that way watching drama series or playing drama games ?? that WELL NONE OF THose interpretations are close to the truth, these are severely unempathetic people who are balls deep into their own emotion, drowning in their hurt too much to realize plain reality which is quite -hmm simple. Things can have pretty boring solutions than Capital Drama would like to believe.
I mean honestly! Not that Drama shows are bad, but people don’t need to act like that ? And actions have consequences and responsibilities – they’re not really laced with any ulterior motives or harmful intent. We just like coloring it that way because having bad intentions from one side paints us the hero/victim/eventual champion.
Rather than all-in-one package of scriptwriter, person who’s responsible for their own growth , feelings and self-worth. NO ONE OWES YOU THAT. YOU DO ALL OF THAT. BE RESPONSIBLE. So I guess, I rstill have some weird beliefs tied upto that. To that extent I still see myself as childish. But at least – self-aware.
What’s weird is. They were right when they described Drama as colorful. Because as soon as I killed the villian version of mom in my head, my life didn’t have much of a plot going. Or conflict, it didn’t exactly become dull but it became quite peaceful and to some extent boring. Like yes there are things I’m still interested in, but I see that I invent most of my troubles. And there’s just less contrast and turbulence in my life. It’s pretty…
I must be honest and say weird.
I’ve just been trying to catch up on some mundane stuff to not overthink the whole process or concept of my freedom. I just am, and I’m just here and let’s just not conflate stuff. I’m just finding my new equilibrium.
Til next time,
Malia
Maria Mison 