I realized something when I went to the province last Christmas—my parents’ minds have stopped developing.
My parents do not seem to acknowledge the impact of their past actions to me. They still glorify themselves as “parents who did their best”, gaslighting me with every effort they did to raise me as if they are not a statutory obligation.
My mother still makes a cup of milk for me every morning, even if I stopped drinking it since I left the house in college. She also still asks me questions I already stated as offensive. My father still asks for my hand even if I stopped responding because I hate the texture of his hand. He also still calls me the same nickname which I disgust.
It’s as if my parents still treat me as the same person who lived with them. No matter how many years have passed, they seem to be stuck with the far past version of me that they could control. To them, I am still that 15- or 16-year-old girl who they wanted to doll up.
I am well aware that my memories and values up to this point are tainted with my personal bias and self-protection. But, I might have missed to consider that maybe, they just stopped growing early, too early that my whole childhood drifted on that stagnation.
Maybe because of their focus to make ends meet using the little resources, they were not able to become better parents to me. Maybe their mental constitution was not strong enough to recognize that what they knew about parenting was not appropriate for the kid they were raising. Maybe in the first place, they could not even recognize that they were wrong, which is why until now, they believe they are right.
Yes, all the above paragraphs focus on “them being wrong”. In my eyes, of course, I am right. Every one of us has some things we are open-minded about and some things we are close-minded about.
At this point, I no longer feel any strong emotion towards them—not love, not hate, not even pity. No emotion clouds my vision of them anymore. They became ordinary people in my life. And because of their ordinariness, I suddenly saw a faint perspective that I was not able to see before.
That maybe, the limit of their growth has reach the edge too early that I became a collateral damage.
Well, I’m no better.
I have spent the last decade looping on my emotional baggage since long enough. Whenever I got some time, I have lifted my suppressed grudges, and overanalyzed them, magnified them, brought them to catharsis, replayed them over and over until I got sick of them and finally gotten drained. Memories make their impact because of the emotions attached to them. And so that was my way of “moving forward”—removing the emotions, so that the memories can become things I can easily throw away soonest.
Ironically, I became grounded on those memories. I became implanted on multiple events in the past which I tried to get rid of, but still cling to me, probably because of the repetition in the process of detoxifying.
In other words, I also became unable to get out of this mindset.
It is as if I am walking forward, but not moving forward. As if I am passing by different places and events, but still attached to the past at the same time. As I flow along with time, I am stretched, in strings, in different lengths.
I stopped growing, too. I am stuck with the childhood traumas which helped me survive this far through fueling my pride. I became a collector of empty shells—those memories with no emotions attached. I became an embodiment of the lyrics,
I [forgot] about you long enough to forget why I needed to. (Taylor Swift, All Too Well)
And, at the same time,
I remember [everything] all too well. (Taylor Swift, All Too Well)
The most bitter part is that, I know in myself that I am trying—I have always been trying—to make peace with my fears and grudges. I could believe I am doing just fine, but objectively speaking, I do not seem to make any progress. I am still the same high school girl with all the darkness around me. The only difference is that I drained the emotions—or better yet say, I do not acknowledge them anymore. Just as my parents do not seem to acknowledge their negative impact on me.
And in the same way, objectively speaking, my parents might have also tried, but failed and gave up. And their weakness became their truth, making them think that they are always right. Just like me.
We might have different experiences and circumstances, which are not necessarily comparable to each other. But, I suddenly realized that everyone of us has an aspect which we stopped growing on. Some of us might still believe that people should serve more powerful people. Some of us might still believe that women should remain in the house. Some of us might still believe that nonbinary genders cannot enter heaven. Some of us might still believe in superstitions or traditions just because they have always been believed upon and never questioned. This is why we have conflicts—in families, friendships, school or work, politics, religion, ethnicity, etc. We all have something that we stopped growing on—our areas of closemindedness. We have beliefs which were already firm before we got the chance to scrutinize them. We lost grip on the most important ingredient of wisdom—the self-reflection. We cannot even reconcile.
“Stop” is amoral—it is not necessarily good nor bad. It is based on perspectives. Sticking on firm beliefs can be good if it helps us carry out a mission. Stagnation can be bad if it prevents us from learning and adapting to the current world.
We just have to realize the aspects we are closeminded on. That is when we decide what to do about it. Whether we change or stay, that is on us. But if we fail to recognize them in the first place, we will remain bound by our ignorance, helplessly.
Lastly, let us understand that we have different areas of open-mindedness and close-mindedness. Just understanding the roots can make a difference in how we interpret our relationships.
Note to self.
Thanks for reading this blog.
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