Parenting And Education Stories

I used to try to be a good daughter for my parents, but everyday they were sending me to the edge , Im not gonna talk about details from the past ... But now all I can see and understand is that im a worthless piece pf garbage, I've been neglected my whole life , noone ever tries to listen to me or understand me , I always tried to be an easy going person , only for tem to step on me . Ppl always disrespect me at the slightest chance , in ways I would never do , and that hurts me because I try to make ppl feel welcomed and safe , but noone has ever cared about how I feel , or the fact that I have feelings, I dont remember someone asking me "are you alright" , I've been going through intense depression since i was 13 (im 19 now) , but I never done smth to deserve all the hate I get from my family , I tried to be a good person and neglected myself for that , I never go out , only to school ,never cause problems or anything , and on top of that "used" to have the best grade in my class every year , but never made me feel like I did smth good , I always wanted to hear my dad say smth nice or call me "daughter" but he never did . Now back to the present, i forgot to talk about abuse , but I've been and still get verbally and physically abused by both my parents, it's so ironic how mu dad who cant say "daughter" doesn't hesitate to call me a bitch for no reason , he who never hugged me , doesn't hesitate to hit me with metal objects and leave bruises on my skin for weeks , I just tried ... And tried to understand what i did but never knew , i feel like im going to explode, It's not fair , Im a good prsn , I tried my best , but everyone hates me , I dont know what i did , why are they treating me like this , is it because im always depressed ? Because i dont laugh or cheer up ? How is this my fault? Im both mentally and physically sick because of these ppl , thwy arch to see me fall and never get up , they wante to depend on them so they can easily let me down and break me , i just want for my dad and mo to stop hitting me this bad , and to stop cursing at me and wishing me death every single day . I never asked to be born

My daughter is just over a year and I am a SAHM right now. She has been having a really rough go lately and just wants to be clung to me 24/7. I love her and the cuddles but I can’t get anything done when I try to leave the room and she screams and cries. When she is in the same room she’s trying to climb my legs or stand in front of me so it makes cooking and cleaning a challenge. I sometimes put her in the carrier and wear her on my front but she is heavy so I can’t do it for too long. I know this will pass and she is probably just getting sick or teething again but I am just so worn out. When I try to express this to my partner he sees it as oh I’m home all day it can’t be that bad. I understand he works long hours but that just makes me feel undervalued and invalidated

I finally passes out highschool and there's like a common exam in my country where over 10k people give exams every year for college entrance. People get to study at respective colleges in respective fields acc to the rank they obtain and I just made so many stupid mistakes on my exam and I just feel so hopeless. I've really wanted to get into my dream college and over the months I know there were so many times I slacked off but at the same time I studied, I made efforts. I'd take 3-4 hour classes in the morning, try to study at home and take 4 hour online class at night. Though I didn't pay attention alot in online class and some physical classes and didn't study some days, there were days I made effort, paid attention to class and my results will be here tomorrow and I just feel so shit. I became so demotivated during my last moment and got distracted and ended up studying nothing even though I've always wanted to make efforts..... I just hate it I hate it so much, I feel like I'm the only one who did my exam shit. I feel so shit and I really want to give up. This means alot to me really, people just take this as a light joke but to me it means so much so much to the point I feel like running away and giving up. What about my efforts that I made, why does it have to go to waste. Why is life so unfair, I just want to be happy, it just sucks so bad right now.... I really feel like giving up........

I don't understand how I ended up alone, without a girlfriend, friends, or even family. I have no one to turn to for my life. I keep everything to myself.

No one calls me to find out how I'm doing, where I am, or what I'm doing, or to show interest. It's because of my father, but it's not the same. I don't maintain any relationship structure.

My life in relationships ended in complete disaster. I've even tasted sex, even a courtship. It's been a long time since I kissed a girl; I barely kissed her, and it was only briefly when I was in my early teens, and it was purely a dare.

No girl has ever been interested in me, or even wanted to have something more with me. I can't believe I haven't been attractive to anyone. I also can't believe no one has wanted to be my friend.

I even have a job worthy of respect from others. It's a public one, too. I don't practice my career; I gave it up. I have no basis for this life in the midst of this capitalism.

Without contact, without a boyfriend, without a family, or a career, I'm at the mercy of a current where I can't transcend. I admit it, I got rid of everything because I wanted to start over.

I had superficial relationships, I didn't like my career, dating seemed like something I wasn't ready for, and the connections I had were fraudulent. My father doesn't help me at all because his line is precisely to return to that old life.

Right now, when I feel more prepared than ever to start over, I can't do it. I feel like the system isn't prepared for people who want to start a new life.

I don't know where I'm going to get friends, a girlfriend, contacts, and even restart a career, without an environment that doesn't support me but rather harms me as a father, only making me unstable when it comes to this new goal, if I set it.

I feel like my father is one of my main problems, and I have a strong desire to slam the door in his face, no matter what. I can't start my life if I don't start from scratch. He's the only one who prevents me from doing so, but starting from scratch would also mean losing the financial support he provides.

This isn't easy. With everything else destroyed, and wanting to start slowly, I can't because there's someone, my father, who wants me to recover that. It's the last straw. I wish I hadn't lived the life I chose under disastrous principles. It's not fair that starting over is complicated. I admit that sometimes I feel like going back to the way things were before. There was progress and a certain foresight about what would happen with everything.

Now that I'm going against the grain, nothing is ever predictable. The culture doesn't support me at all. I swear, I wish I could give up many times. However, I feel like the only path left for me is to manage by distancing myself from everyone and maintaining it. Under these conditions, if I want to start over, have some support, and gradually build my life, the best thing is to be alone, to start from there, from that axis, and progress along it, avoiding leaving, consolidating that it is the path, the foundation, to rebuild my life.

In the midst of everything, being alone allows you not to look to others, to that other part of yourself, that you seek to give in to, and that you seek out in itself, precisely because you want to rest. I would like to find someone who can support me on this journey and who can also support my father or my family, as they have also been factors that have served to unify those around me against me, against the path I want to follow.

Being alone, as I say, implies both maintenance and effort, through constant introspection, and this system is not designed to ensure this, but to advance at its own pace, according to a bureaucracy. I fear that they won't be able to cope with each other and I'll end up falling along the way. This introspection is the only thing that has kept me grounded in my ideals.

I sometimes feel like I don't know how to communicate with others in a way that isn't complex for them, and it results in rejection, given that it seems unnecessary. For me, it's necessary, but such constant rejection makes me feel that my need to be this way can't be satisfied. I'm left wondering, "Where is there someone who can receive my discourses?"

Indeed, there must be someone who enjoys such discourses, just as there must be someone who enjoys generating them. When it comes to speaking, I enjoy complexity precisely to discern more between the words and thus have more tools to discern my life and my past. Indeed, there is a message for another; however, there is a part that is being used for myself. Although if I see this, we can say that I am falling into a decentering focus on the individual, and that is certainly just what others complain about. Ultimately, what it's about is that when we address another, the message to be conveyed must be configured according to the other; otherwise, we will be acting, in this case, towards something to which there is no openness.

It has been difficult for me to come to these conclusions. I feel extremely hurt that I don't feel I can handle a psychotherapist who can support me in raising awareness in the social sphere. When I tried, it only resulted in my perceptions being suspect and a search for me to somehow submit to the fact on this issue, even though the element itself was evidence that this was the case. In effect, we're talking about pressure to succumb and thus maintain a vision given by the therapist, or at least on the terms the therapist liked. I can understand why I looked for ways to discredit any authority and consequently dismiss the individual.

My current therapist doesn't allow me to develop ideas. Instead, in the areas where I find refuge, he pleasantly seeks to bring me out in a non-progressive way, simply by breaking in and giving direction, rather than me. I always felt he was a closed-off person, and the conditions under which we had psychotherapy were also restrictive for me, precisely because of the short sessions. This was contrary to what he initially recommended, which was to satisfy my need to feel heard.

In this sense, I weep deeply. I weep for not having a psychotherapist who could help me visualize these elements, or at least someone who would allow me to do so, at least in a way that would make me realize and consequently allow me to develop according to my own means. The issue with people who have sought to develop according to their own means has resulted in setting limits on development, or in other words, in a sad framing. Asking for help or support for myself has simply resulted in mistreatment. With the first psychotherapist I mentioned, I felt that my accusations weren't taken seriously, and those that were were only temporary.

In this case, both from ordinary people and from psychotherapists, I've felt that they can't support me, which in itself has resulted in a kind of divine condemnation given the circumstances in which I was raised and they found who I am, which in itself only generated problems in escalating ways, so much so that they alienated everyone. The most horrifying thing for me is that I didn't choose those circumstances, so such condemnation is unfair, and it's also due to simple chance. It's feeling that you're not welcome for reasons beyond your control, and that no one can do anything about it, and those who say they are only result in an exercise of dominance that, although not sought, goes against my individual spirit, which is what counts when it comes to unfolding in the world and, of course, achieving comfort.

My point is that I feel alone on this path of raising awareness, when I observe that many of you have friends who allow accusations—well, at least that's what they've given me. Perhaps what I've observed is that such accusations are nothing more than the deviation of a certain profile in a given circumstance. This reinforces my idea of ​​being alone, given that I can't find any support for myself. I have to admit it: I feel alone on this path of being in the world, amidst my difficulties. On the other hand, it's difficult to draw a specific conclusion, because the fact that I manage to immerse myself in my feelings, allowing a free development of letters, albeit with apparent directions, although not definitive, speaks in itself of accompaniment on my part through this path of darkness.

Of course, the latter is something that isn't usually valued as standard, at least in this culture eager for socialization and anxious escape from loneliness, so such recognition was an effort on my part to achieve Guir, which in this case is just the right thing to accompany me on another adventure to visualize myself as I am. Reaching me is a difficult task along paths that seem quite strange due to the stretches they pass through, which are also unexpected, the driving force being only a simple pressure on the head and the search for its satisfaction. However, the fact that I appreciate these letters and at the same time unfold them speaks of me as an individual within myself and that I am interested in myself. It is precisely this dyad that allows for the journey and, of course, an indisputable consolidation, because all journeys are based on a clear and circumscribed delimitation within a context, and precisely the latter is what connects with other delimitations. This dyad is what allows for surprise, appreciation, and at the same time effort, it being the retreat from these that allows for this consolidation.

I have gone deep, as some would say; however, I feel this allows me to enter into context with the various situations that occur within me and that allow me to anchor myself to this journey. Sensations definitely go beyond being elements that define a particular social situation, given that they are rooted in the elements captured. Rather, they are a signal toward what we need to consolidate and that is in line with the moment because, amidst the circumstances they involve, they result in a satisfaction that makes a difference and, consequently, a change in me, in the way I experience them.

This brings me back to the doctor's experience, where the very thing we're talking about is sensations. Indeed, when communicating them, it is advisable to describe them, but based on categories that can allow the professional to concretely interpret what is happening in our body. Sensations themselves do not follow a universal format; it is advisable to use formats that are consistent with the reference and can be understood by others, because otherwise, we can fall into unconscious dismissals on the part of others and consequently carry out actions that are quite disconnected from the situation to which they refer. However, to actually achieve this, I first had to endure being told that I don't know how to express what I feel, and that the conversation was with a third party. Therefore, the character, besides being a busybody, also had the right words for every sensation, which makes him narcissistic. This is one of the things that makes him feel unwelcome in a home, to the point of abandoning the characters.

I undoubtedly learned a valuable lesson about communicating with doctors and others, but with that character, I also learned that I held back my way of expressing myself, and that because it wasn't understandable to him, it was censored. This led to my not knowing how to express myself when it came to something I didn't know how to put into words, or the fear of being considered as such. In itself, this speaks to an environment that doesn't prevent me from approaching the world beyond what they already know.

I’m done with my life. The academic session began in April, and my exams are scheduled for the end of January. Right now, August is already halfway over—it’s the 20th today—and I feel like I’ve fallen far behind. Most of my classmates are ahead of me, while I struggle to understand anything in class. It feels as if I’ve been dropped into a higher grade where I don’t belong. Everything seems beyond my grasp.

It stings to see my peers following along with ease while I just sit there, staring at the blackboard in confusion. I was never like this before. For the first time in my life, I feel lost in class. This is 10th grade, and I feel trapped, unable to move forward, constantly pulled away by distractions.

My laptop, which should be helping me study, has become my biggest enemy. Social media, random motivational YouTube videos, anime content, Instagram scrolling, venting to strangers online for attention, even sleeping after school—these habits are dragging me down. I thought my relationship with a classmate was a distraction too, so I distanced myself from her. But even after cutting off contact, nothing changed. I can’t blame her anymore—this is my own battle.

I barely scraped through the first unit tests with poor grades, cramming the night before exams. If I’m honest, I haven’t properly finished a single chapter to the point where I could confidently answer questions from it. I’m still procrastinating every day. On top of that, I struggle with the habit of watching porn, which only makes me feel weaker and more paralyzed.

I know what’s happening to me, but I don’t act on it. It feels like I’m waiting for some dramatic “rock bottom” moment—like in movies where the main character suddenly rises to the top after hitting their lowest point. But in real life, that moment never comes. Time just keeps slipping away.

Part of me dreams of becoming the top student in class, but right now it feels more like a fantasy than a real possibility. Even if I somehow worked hard, gave my all, and fought through every distraction, I know people wouldn’t see the effort behind it. They’d assume I succeeded easily, because I’ve always been considered a “good student.” That’s why I sometimes feel the need to tell my classmates about my struggles, as if my poor marks in the first unit test are proof of where I really stand.

But the truth is, I’m still waiting for something outside of me to change my situation, even though I know nothing magical is going to happen. My parents keep scolding me and comparing me to others, which only makes me feel worse. I want to rise to the top of the class, but right now, it feels impossible.

Yea that's right. I feel like dying in my family. No one understands me. My mother has constantly abused me, beaten me up, given me so many bruises ever since I was young. I got headfalls. I used to get burnt with spoons heated on stoves when I was young. If I would ever talk about going out, like playing outside, or asking them for something to eat or anything, I would constantly get beaten up. My dad would never do anything. He would just stand there on a corner and say, bear with it, as if he's consenting to whatever is happening to me right now with my mother. It has always made me feel like I don't belong here. They just gave birth to me for the sake of it, for producing a child and to compete with the family. Ever since I was young, I used to get beaten up every single day for the most childish reasons. One time, I went to school and came back and didn't study and said that I'm going to go out and play and didn't come back for after the, you know, curfew time. My mother just locked me up outside for like half an hour and I just got so scared and anxious because she used to say that, she used to threaten me that people would rape me, that men would kidnap me and rape me when I was that young. I was like in fourth grade. Imagine saying that to a fourth grader, let alone your own child. It just broke me. Completely. I got extremely tired of staying here. Now I finally have the chance of moving out this country itself, if i won't get it, idk what i might do to myself.

As I write this, I'm a junior in high school. Already I'm going through a lot and I've been through a lot in life. Tonight is like any other night of mine, except I'm sat in bed, typing away on my laptop on this site where I can talk about my feelings and experiences. I'm not even sure what to talk about, but I have so much to say. There are so many things I worry about in life, yet there are so many other things I appreciate about life. Hell, I don't know where I'm going with this, my thoughts are all over the place. I guess for starters, 2 days ago, me and my mum got into an argument. It was over something stupid but it eventually escalated to tears being shed, my tears, specifically. I don't wish to go into detail, but safe to say we were both just stressed at that moment. But ever since then, we've been distant. Our text messages are dry and there's no love in them. I just don't know how to fix this. School life isn't any better either. Gosh, I just want to get out. The boys in my class make fun of me for god knows what, the girls are annoying and are all the same with that slick back hair and loud humour, learning and studying is just exhausting, and overall it isn't so well. Yeah, I have friends, but even then I feel like I'm lonely. I've considered that maybe I'm the problem, and yeah, maybe I am, maybe I'm not. Either way, I hate it all. I just don't know why I'm the victim of those boys' shallow jokes and entertainment. Is it really that funny when you kick and throw a ball at my face? Is it really that funny when I'm speaking aloud for the class? Is it really that funny when I actually laugh and smile with my only friend in the class? And oh, it's always "boys will be boys", as if that reassures me at all. I guess you could say that's my pet peeve. But anyway, I just wanna get through my life, why is it me who they wanna make fun of? What did I do to deserve that? Maybe they hurt me because I'm just different from them. I have a lazy eye, I'm the only girl in the class with short hair, I'm not the prettiest of all and I certainly am not the loudest. But what's so wrong with that? Yes, I have a few things about me that are different from you, but is that supposed to excuse your actions? Everyone's different, everyone's born differently, everyone is their own individual and that's beautiful. And to take that individuality and toy it around like it's nothing? You are truly just pathetic. Shallow people will be the death of me and I am sure of it. The boys in my class are living proof of that. I just hate how so many people don't wanna even try to understand someones or somethings point of view or feelings, worse if they completely disregard it and/or laugh at it. Maybe in another universe, they would be better. Or maybe, in another universe, I just didn't care.

when I was 9 I started doing sh, My dad kept comparing me to others, making jokes about my appearance, and saying rude things to me. He has anger issues and keeps threatening to punch me, slap me, or cut off a limb or two to keep me from leaving the house when I make him angry. I was tired of him at the age of 9 so I started to do self-harm as a way of punishing myself and coping, I couldn't talk to my parents. I don't trust them, when I decided to do sh I cut the front of my arm and it's back until it reached my elbows. I remember crying and wishing that if I told a my dad or mom, they'd comfort me instead of thinking that something was wrong with me. my dad eventually found out when I was 10 and he took pictures and sent them to my other relatives and I felt humiliated, he asked me why I did it as if the way he treated me wasn't enough for him to connect everything so I lied about the reason. after he found out I stopped for a few months and he and my mom never said anything to me, just why and what did I use? he never confronted me or tried to comfort me. neither did my mom, I've been clean for a year and 19 days now but I've been getting urges again. my dad still threatens me like that and sometimes he Pretends to choke me and shake me with his hands around my neck as a joke and I feel uncomfortable, but I can't bring myself to say that since he'll think im just playing along. I love my parents, but sometimes I wonder if they even want me here.

I'm 39 and feeling like I'm drowning; it's just been too much lately. I love my kids, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I feel like I'm running a marathon with no finish line in sight. My husband? He's there physically, but that's about it. It's like living with a ghost. When did life become so exhausting?

Every morning, I gear up to tackle the chaos. My kids, they're the light of my life, but man, they can be a handful. School lunches, homework, tantrums - it's never-ending. Do you ever feel like you're on autopilot, juggling so much that you can't catch your breath? My husband's in his own world, and I can't remember the last time we had an actual conversation. It's like talking to a wall most days.

At home, I'm doing the all-nighter thing without the party vibes. Laundry, dishes, cleaning up messes, and running after the kiddos... Oh, and did I mention working too? Sometimes I stare at the ceiling, wondering if this is it. Is this what adulting is all about? I try to stay hopeful, but it feels like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Self-care? That ship sailed a while ago.

I've tried to talk to him, but it's like we're speaking different languages. How do you get through to someone who doesn't seem to care? It's like he's on a permanent vacation from our life. I just want him to notice me, help out a little. It's not too much to ask, right? Sometimes a hug or a simple "How was your day?" would mean the world. Emojis can't solve everything, but 😢 sums it up pretty well.

Still, I tell myself it won't always be like this. Kids grow up, things change. It's just a stormy phase, and I'll come out the other side stronger. I hold onto that hope like a lifeline. Anyone else feeling something similar? Let's hang in there. Life has a funny way of turning things around when you least expect it. I'm ready for that silver lining.

I don't know if I am being too dramatic about it or not, but today for the first time my mom is not at home and its just me and my father. She has gone to meet her cousins for a few days. I don't know but there is a strange silence in the entire house. I was mostly alone at home throughout the day and its hitting me so hard that its her presence that makes this house, home. And now when she's not here, it feels like my home is missing. I don't know if its because my periods are due or I am actually sad, but its not even 24 hours and I have already cried multiple times. I wasn't living at home for the past 6 years because of college so I didn't really realise her absence much but I don't know I am feeling very guilty about not spending enough time with her when she's at home. She's busy with her work and I am mostly at my own. I really regret not spending much time with her. And who knows how much time do I have left with her. I'm just overthinking about it but life is so unpredictable.

I'm 16 and my mom has been telling me to kill myself. I might as well consider it. There is no point in anything I really want things to end.

But despite every curse from this fuckass universe,

I want to know how it feels like to grow up and live

I want to know it feels like to NOT feel like this

I still want to watch new seasons of my favourite shows

I still want to taste flavours which Ive never tried

I still want to read many books

And i still want to watch my little siblings grow

If i die now,

I will be selfish enough to not consider the well being of my siblings

Maybe I'll be more of a burden, only dead

Maybe i will be cursed till the depths of hell for all the money i made them waste on me.

No matter what, i just know that i never wanted any of this

I just wish my parents were more than the title itself

I am an Indian. I know to keep it anonymous but revealing my nationality brings me no harm.

A day ago, I was writing my in-progress novel. It was nearing 11 PM. I went to get my night dress from the room in which I sleep (it's not mine, I don't exactly have my own room in this house, but that's no worry), and went to the washroom to change. My brother was watching TV. I told him to turn it off by the time I return. He always dismisses everything I say, because I'm the useless sort in the house. So of course he dismissed this.

I returned from the bathroom and pushed against the door to the room in which my brother was, and it didn't open. I went to the balcony to try the other spare entrance, but that door was locked too. My uncle and grandmother were asleep. They heard me bang the door, and my uncle appeared out of his room. I told him what was wrong and he tried several bizarre methods of unlocking a door, calling out my brother's name, turning the door handle over and over.

Truth was that my brother had fallen asleep while watching TV. It was late night, wasn't it? The fucker locked the door from the inside for a reason even I don't know. He was in a deep slumber, that my uncle's or my voice didn't reach him loudly enough to wake him.

My grandmother can't walk without her cane. She has fat legs, and lung problems, so she kept saying how him (brother) locking the door rattled her and how her body was shaking. I tried to calm her down.

Mother and father had gone to dinner, so grandmother phoned them to return home ASAP, because father keeps a bunch of keys with him, one of which would fit the door's lock and unlock it. We just had to wait. I waited patiently and calmly through the tension, because panic would have been fuel to the fire.

Even amidst all this, grandmother and uncle kept saying how I was the one who went to the washroom, I was the one who left him alone, and henceforth I'm the irresponsible one. I tried to tell them I am no prophet, I wouldn't have in any case known that the idiot would lock the door while I'm away, much less fall asleep. It wasn't my fault, no matter how one saw it.

Father returned with mother in a few more moments, grabbed the keys and unlocked the room's door. Brother lay sleeping. I slapped him awake (literally) and then uncle and mother entered the room. Uncle didn't say much to him, since he is a little better than controlling his anger than the other two.

Father hit him and slapped him and kept asking him to why he locked the damn door, and mother stopped him by saying that he was still groggy and shit and hugged him. Father kept shouting. All was going well for me until...

Petty grandmother mentioned how I went to the washroom and left the little fucker alone for 15 MINUTES. Hear that? 15 MINUTES. Not even 20. I sometimes sing or think out some plots for my books in the bathroom, so I sometimes lose track of time, but that night I was more than a 100% certain I was gone for only and only 15 minutes.

I had tried all the ways and techniques I could to convince the old woman otherwise but noooo, I'm the one at fault. Always.

I shouted in frustration, that IT WASN'T ME. And guess what? Father got mad. Grabbed me. Slapped me once. Shouted in my ears. Gripped me by the arm and told me not to "look that way at him" because I wasn't meeting his eyes. My mother just stood there. My uncle told him to not hurt me. So he just yelled. Grandmother said nothing.

And then the next day my mother, the woman I despise for so many reasons, comes to "talk" with me (translation: scold and control me). I have not spoken to father since that night, it's been only one day. I wanted him to apologize. He had no reason to hit me. Why can't adults just hit their heads somewhere and understand that they are NOT the wise owls they think they are, that they glorify themselves as?

The woman told me that it was wrong of me to treat father that way, and because the two humans gave birth to me, they "have every right to hit me". NO YOU FUCKING DON'T. I AM NOT YOUR PROPERTY. Child or not, I am my own person who believes that hitting does nothing but give a child trauma for life, make them fear adults, FEAR THE MERE SENSE OF TOUCH, feel like they are at the adult's mercy, or worse, teach them hitting = making the child realize what's right.

That's where the title comes in. Ego and self-respect. Often....Most of the time,... okay nevermind, always, these two words are confused and used synonymously in this blasted Indian parenting universe. ..Fuck I hate this country (ps: I am not patriotic at all).

Mother told me to "lower my ego", as she put it. What I have isn't ego. I simply respect myself enough to know that I don't stand with the wrong. I don't care who does it. Wrong stays wrong. And I feel sorry for those who have no idea of self-respect. I feel sorry for their self-esteem.

Mother told me that children must apologize, that adults never do so because.... they're adults. Okay. I get that they are older than me. They have been on this planet longer than I have. They have seen things I haven't. BUT SIMILARLY, I have seen things they haven't. We're equal. We're also equal on the fact that at the end, we're all humans with a load of emotions.

Mother justified father hitting me because he was terrified for my brother and did it in a fit of rage. So if I yell in a fit of rage, that is not justified? Then you will hit me for raising my voice? He's lucky I'm not 18 yet, and that I don't have any malicious intent. Hitting a woman is assault, ain't it?

Mother told me that father works and wonders day and night for me and my education... But have they ever thought for my inner well-being? NO. BECAUSE THAT IS JUST A HALLUCINATION. IT'S NOT EVEN THERE. I get to hear that money buys no happiness, and no they contradict their own statement, implying that technically, money DOES buy happiness.

I'm not happy. I'm depressed, angry, broken, neglected, sad, hurt and hopeless. And if I tell them this, I'll get hit by the "you're only 17" reply. Because apparently they are stuck in their own angsty life to help me with mine.

They tell me I'm rude. Well, sent me to a fucking therapist then! I want help but can't they get the hint that I'm not able to express it to them because they are all daft shitheads? Why can't I express? They've given me no reason to bestow them with my trust. I trust my friends more. For me, water is thicker than blood. I don't even know who wrote the stupid saying anyways.

Mother told me to make him a sorry card and buy him a chocolate. Okay, I'll do it. Not because I want to, but because I'm genuinely tired of this woman's idiocy. First she neglects me and constantly fawns over brother ("he's younger than you) and now she tries to give me lessons in lowering my "ego"? I have ego, I won't deny. But this, this isn't ego. It's a strong sense of respect for my own being. Every time I try to cultivate it, they kill it in one way or another.

Please treat your children better. They don't deserve this. They are not your puppets. Not your property. They are yours to take care of, so stop doing things that make them grow distant.

It's amazing to know that a 17-yo has a better sense of parenting than two parents combined.

Losing my husband unexpectedly was a heart-breaking experience that left me grappling with unbearable sorrow and navigating an uncertain future. Honestly, there were moments when I felt completely lost and alone, questioning how I could possibly move forward without him by my side. Amidst the overwhelming grief, my mum became an incredible pillar of strength for me. She offered a comforting presence during my darkest moments and helped me find a way out of the grief abyss. I had to ask myself, where would I be without her unwavering support and kind words during these trying times???

My mum's wisdom and compassion were nothing short of lifesavers. Every morning she called, ensuring I knew she was there and that I wasn't facing this new reality alone. An unplanned bonus to her supportive presence was her uncanny knack for knowing when I just needed someone to listen, without uttering a single word in return. We joked quite a bit, which was a much-needed breather from the suffocating heaviness of grief. She had the extraordinary ability to bring back a little sunshine into my life. Can you imagine what a gift that is?? Her thoughtful hugs and cups of tea were small gestures that went a long way to settling my scattered mind. Mum wasn’t afraid to take the reins and help me with daily tasks that suddenly felt monumental. 💪 Household chores, meal preps, even a few Netflix nights that started to fill up the void ever-so-slightly. It’s funny how parents continue to surprise us even when we’re adults, isn't it?? Her invaluable guidance taught me to honor my emotions, yet remain hopeful about the future and acknowledge that it’s okay to ask for help. My healing journey would be incomplete without recognizing her selfless love and encouragement that equipped me with the strength to move forward each day. 🧡

Growing up, I was used to being praised by my relatives. My aunts and uncles, and most importantly, my mother and father. I was the younger sibling, have an older and only sister, I was praised because I achieved far more greater things than my sibling had, as they've said really. I grew up having those expectations normalised towards me because I never had trouble keeping up with them. I also won those competitions because my mom wants me to and has me practice hard. With honours, first placer in poster making, the class and even the schools representative when competing with other schools in the district, once in the division level..

I was never the smart kid though, just enough, by fourth grade I entered every single poster and any art related contests and won the gold medal most of the time. I never connected it to the fact that those added points must've been what pulled my grades high.

My older sibling always had lesser grades than me, always berated and compared to my higher grades. I always preened on the compliments yet maybe I should’ve felt bad instead that my sibling was being judged and ridiculed for barely passing. I didn't know then what it felt like.

I never thought I’d experience those things, yet I did. Entering highschool, I never placed high expectations on myself. Why would I when big grades always came naturally to me even without the tiring studying back at elementary?

Yet now, lesson after lesson I fail to comprehend them, I barely understood the materials and repeatedly got less than good scores in activities and tests. I excel in project making yet pretty designs will never get me far. Now I barely hang on to my honour streak.

Then that day came.

Our advisor posted the list of who made it to the honours list in our class gc. And for the first time I didn’t see my name. At most half of us didn't make it to the honour list so I rationalized that Im not an odd one out. I didn’t feel much, I didn’t let myself feel much, not while I was in school in front of my friends. I felt disappointed, sure but I let it go because I knew I couldn’t do anything about it anymore.

Then when I got home, I suddenly felt myself being nervous around my mother, she kept asking me and I relented and told her I failed for the very first time to be in the honour list.

What hurt more was that she didn’t scream at me. She usually does on smaller matters (she'd curse a lot) but now she simply sounded disappointed, berated me and told me how I would tell my hardworking father. What’s worse was that I was now the one being compared to my older sibling who was passing her classes.

I didn't cry, I didn’t feel like needing to cry even by then, I was ashamed but I didn’t cry, I felt numb that I didn’t cry, I kept quiet and took in all her words. She told me she expected better and that honest to god hurts most.

When dinner came around my mother told my father about my failed grades, he sounded disappointed and angry too. I didn’t cry. I expected and deserved it.

Yet. when I was alone, feeding the dog (she's tied outside by the shop where my dad fixes cars, he's a self employed mechanic) I felt my eyes water and tears started falling down, my chest tightened and I wanted to stop yet I couldn't. I hid behind our car that was nearby, ashamed to be seen crying over my failed grades. Now hunched over in the shadows, trying desperately to wipe the onslaught of tears, I took and shaky breaths and composed myself as best as I could. Finishing up with my chore and going to my room as if I hadn't been crying my eyes out.