Currently listening to: Wrecking Ball – Miley Cyrus
I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was wreck me
If this is true, I feel like I can identify with all these except number one… for the most part.
I never had that unwavering relationship with my mother. Growing up, my mother used to say she wished I had been the son and my brother the daughter. Maybe it was because he was better looking —resembling a K-pop idol, maybe because he was more meticulous, more polished—everything I wasn’t. While he seemed effortlessly perfect, I had to fight tooth and nail for validation. He didn’t have to try; I had to prove myself time and time again.
I was the troublemaker, the one who disrupted the illusion of harmony, the one blamed for influencing him when he strayed. I had anger issues, sure, but they weren’t born out of nothing. I was provoked—by my brother who knew how to push my buttons, by the kids in the neighborhood who sneered at my existence, by the classmates who made sure I never forgot I was different. I fought back because I had to, because staying silent meant accepting what was doled out and that was never an option for me.
Maybe I wasn’t the daughter my mother wished for, but I carried battles inside me all the time.
So… men, what say you? Are these six statements true to you?
Drop a comment, I’d love to read about your thoughts on this.
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