family portrait

A beautiful Sunday went awry. After hours at Hazel’s, eating the world’s best quiche (that she made) and cupcakes and champers and three hours in the luxuriant W hot tub to the point of starting to prune, I was almost too happy.

And then I wasn’t. Because my mom decided to get completely enraged at me (anger is too mild a word here) for not sending her photos of myself for the accursed godforsaken wretched arranged marriage system during the weekend as I had promised. Funny, I didn’t know that I could fucked for not keeping a deadline outside of work. Evidently my frivolous going out, eating out with friends and studying for the CFA had gotten in the way of more important things.

I am not congratulating myself here, so go with me on this for a bit. I try really really hard. I am working like a dog in this new role to make an impression before the offer letter arrives so that I have some bargaining power. The previous weekend, I spent all 48 hours of it indoors studying. I did not step out. And I wouldn’t have today either if it hadn’t been for Hazel’s loving brunch invite.

Mom’s yelling was no-holds-barred. I silently took it all. I am a liability, a burden, a permanent cause of stress to my mom and the rest of the family. I tried to take the high road… I tried to just let my mom let it all out and then end the conversation. But that didn’t work. It never does. My grandma tried to pacify me… apparently this is all for my happiness. Of course. Yelling at me like I am some kind of wretch, making me feel insignificant is all for my own good. I was given no wiggle room, no room to say look I don’t want to do this anymore…look maybe I don’t want to get married, at least not this way.

It was awful. And it made me realise something shocking. and sad. Like throw in the towel sad. There is no such thing as unconditional love. My parents don’t love me unconditionally, that’s bogus. If they did, they wouldn’t make me feel so pathetic. They would congratulate my accomplishments and support me through my lows. But they really haven’t, not for long stretches of time anyway. There is always the mean reversion in that after a brief period of sympathy, they go back to expecting the heavens from me.

It is exhausting. As is crying for 4 straight hours.


3 thoughts on “family portrait

  1. Babe…trust me, I KNOW all this. I felt like this up until the moment I left home. It was worse because I couldn't escape it – it was there day in, day out.You're NOT a burden to your family – they love you. In fact, I bet it's because they feel so much for you that they are acting this way. To me, it seems like they're scared for you and your and acting out in the only way they know how – which is by getting angry. It's classic Indian Parent syndrome – complete with emotional blackmail.Which I know, doesn't help to make you feel any better.*Hugs* darling, tight, squishy hugs. Maybe it is time, if you really don't feel like doing the thing, to tell them – when things calmed down??

  2. Oh god. {{hugs}} In this at least I can tell you: I know what it's like. I'm sorry. It sucks and I know how badly it hurts. The only antidote is to be strong, believe in yourself, stick to your guns, and never ever trust them again. You would not take 1/1000th of this bullshit from a boy – so why take it from them?I swear to you I did not live until I wrote my parents and most of my relatives out of my life. The pain of severing emotional bonds with parents will always be with me, but it's fucking worth it.

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