Throwback Thursday: Narrative of a girl with rage

I wish there was a lock on my side of the door. 
I wish there was a way for me to leave everything I know behind, even if it means changing my identity.
I wish there was another way to overcome this brick wall in front of me other than running away.

Believe me, I would do anything to be a part of this family again.
But I can’t.
Because I can’t possibly sacrifice my own happiness for it.

Every time we come together, somebody cries.
Each time somebody cries, everybody else avoids getting to the root of the problem and instead just bribes that person to shut up.
Every time I would look at myself and wonder if I’m any better that those people. 

These people that I call family.
The people that I’ve known since birth.
They depress me, derail me and, worst of all, degrade me.

Sitting across the table from “the responsible ones” I had a feeling that somehow they owned me but didn’t grant me the rights that a human being should have.
Salient rights such as deciding my own fate, choosing my own beliefs and making up my own mind.
Somehow everything had to follow tradition, protocol and their way.

Guess what, I’m sick of it, sick of you and sick of your ways.
God grant me your presence for guidance and protection, instead you cage me and prevent me from being who I am.
Good thing you haven’t taken my mind with you.

As a little girl, my father used to tell me that I’m a Ko.
And as every little rebel would, I told him that my name was Lim Ko even if it meant picking up a fight.
Apparently only boys are allowed to carry the name.

What century am I living in?
Wonder if its still the same timezone when girls only play the role of sex slave and baby oven.
Well, I am not taking any of that bullshit you’re sending my way.

Now, after years of reinforcement I take full ownership of both names especially Kho.
Nevertheless you find other ways to torture me and bring me down.
Now you tell me that I am not to posses any family heirlooms and assets because I won’t carry the family name.

Funnily the first thing I feel is rage.
For all those times I refused to recognize the name as a part of me, isn’t it odd that I would scream and shout and cry over me losing it?
Forcing me to be apart of this family maybe isn’t a good idea now.

Countless times I have stood up for our family and what’s the thanks I get, “Oh hey! You can’t touch anything we own especially all the precious memories because you’re a girl!”.
Come on! Since when does having a vagina instead of a prick equals having no standing in this family.
Cowardly, narrow minded, tradition driven fucks like you is what makes the air, soil and water poisonous.

Plus if you’re so keen on taking all of my ownership of this family away from me, you should just leave me alone.
Possibilities are endless for me, you once said that I would marry a man and I would have another family, maybe they’ll be better that this.
Possibilities are I will have more once I leave.

However, before I leave I just want to say that if you didn’t mean to give me anything if not everything that makes this family then you shouldn’t have brainwashed me in the first place. 
Holding on to what’s left of me, I wonder if being a girl and being at risk of losing a name makes me less of a member of this family.
Hell with this family!

July 26, 2011