I had a video call with my paternal grandpa this week. He looked thin, and quivered in pain, everyone said he might live for 1 or 2 more months as he struggled with water swelling and liver cancer. I didn’t know what to say, I could only listen in silence as I wished him well before hanging up.
He was one of the very few people in the family I don’t have a beef with, but even that didn’t stop me from not emoting. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t feel anything. It was weird.
I often call my mom as well, to let her know how things are going. Though she tends to complain about why I never actively reached out to her, only waited for her to call me.
I chatted with my twin brother the most, but for some reasons recently, I can’t seem to be as engaged as in the past.
What is wrong with me? I know sometimes people say “boys don’t call their family as frequent as girls” but that doesn’t sit right with me. Whenever I call them, I just feel like a liability. I got bored quickly, I answered just for the sake of answering, and I switched subjects quickly. I just feel… detached.
I couldn’t cry at the high school graduation ceremony. I couldn’t cry at a funeral. I couldn’t cry at watching my loved ones suffering from the inevitable outcome of death.
I just couldn’t.
But I can cry when I’m in my room though. Alone. A lot. Till I closed my eyes and slept through the night.
I don’t know. I felt guilty. But my body didn’t respond.
I don’t like my family because I argue with them all the time. I think it started around when I hit puberty. I went from crying, to throwing fits, to just… sitting there? I can’t remember when was the last time I tried to hold an argument for hours.
I mean I don’t hate them. In fact, people all told me that my parents were very gentle compared to other surrounding parents. So does that mean my feelings were overreactions? Was I born too sensitive? I mean they barely hit me, and kids got body shamed all the time, so why does it feel like I’m the only one who felt that way? I’m already 20, is it true that my “rebel teenage phase” is still present? That does not make sense. Nothing makes senses anymore.
I can only put it aside because life has obligations. But trust me I tried to tackle it. I did. I just, can’t find a way to change this.
I feel mad at everybody, but I don’t express it anymore.
I haven’t expressed anything anymore. Either I can smile or rest.
Come to think of it, my mom is a funny individual.
She hid everything from me and my brother. Only acknowledged us when we learned it from somebody else.
She tried to be an authority figure as a mom. It comically doesn’t work, because that’s not who she is.
Perhaps it did, in the sense that I grew up with resentment.
But as I learned about my family dynamics from my auntie and my maternal grandma. I can’t feel anger towards her. Just frustration, pity, and sadness.
She smiles. A lot. She smiles at everything. A party, a conversation, an accusation. Everything.
I hated her for it. That I thought she was a heartless, ignorant woman. But I didn’t know it was her coping mechanism, only when I realized I also smile when I got scolded for making a mistake.
She’s just like me. She couldn’t hide the cracks from the way she was raised. She tried to project it because that was “the right way”, because “spare the rod and spoil the child.”
But she couldn’t.
She didn’t tell me anything about her work. How she had to travel miles for a low-paying, emotionally draining job that she might get fired at any given moment. She couldn’t eat, but she never told me anything. Only to her sisters and mother.
She fought back with father. But she still stayed, because she had to “think about the children.” We persuaded her into leaving, even if she wanted to, she would have to endure “this woman left her husband so she could be with another man.”
She also lost the ability to have period. I don’t know since when, but she had to consume hormones in order to have period, the ones she brushed off, saying they were “collagen.” Maybe it was the collagen gummy bear that saved her, but then it was the pills, then the injection. It was a barely covered lie.
She’s often told as being very young and beautiful for her age. I agree, despite how many times we teased about it. I guess she really was an ill-fated beauty.
A degree that couldn’t be used, a relationship that couldn’t be loved, a life that couldn’t be ignored. She was there, “living.” I couldn’t look at her the same way anymore.
Distance indeed makes people closer. Without these knowledge, she would just be a traditionally irrational mother to me. But she isn’t. She is her own person, she chose (?) to sacrifice her youth, and she could only try her best to be optimistic.
It seems like almost all the men in my family are the bearers of burden. She used to ask me and my brother “How would you feel it I give birth to a younger sister?” We really didn’t know better.
She might lose her chance to have a daughter, little did she know she soon will have one. I’ll become her soon, we will take hormones together, I want to let her know that I do love her in the future, and history does repeat itself sometimes. Just like her, I’ll become the eldest daughter.
But in a different way, I will also not become her. I will lead a free life, I will not excuse my behavior for any reason, and I will learn to become a well-adjusted person.
Mom, you may not understand what I’m writing about, so here is something you wouldn’t need to translate into:
“Con không thể nhận lấy một cái ôm hay nụ hôn từ mẹ, nhưng mà con vẫn muốn mẹ làm mẹ của con.”
On a lighter note, this is my week 2 of voice training!
I did some exercises on voice resonance, vocal mass, and retraction. It definitely sounds better, there’s no denying it.
Even if it is a little, it helped me feel happier from this week. I guess.
“Personne, pour sauver ton cœur Et si tu guéris ailleurs ? Vois ce que t’as fait, vois ce que j’ai fait J’tai tant donné Mais j’sais pas t’en vouloir. … Pourquoi tu pleures Ce sont tes larmes ou bien la pluie que j’ai sur moi ? Et tes peurs ? Dis le moi, comment faire dans tes bras Dis moi qui te sauveras ?“
(“Nobody, to save your heart And if you heal elsewhere? I see what you’ve done, I see what I’ve done I have given so much But I don’t know if I’m mad at you … Why are you crying? Is it your tears or the rain pouring on me? And your fears? Tell me, what I should do in your arms Tell me who will save you?”)
hereexistsatransgirl 