Venting of spleen

i know that i should honour my parents above all, for they have given me life, and are my guardians. but as the mind matures, i start to see lesser evidence of maturity coming from them. i was once appalled of the far-fetched and ridiculous suggestions my mother had given me when i was much younger, and dismissed them momentarily. it might have just been a passing thought.

as the years passed, her 'advices' got drastically worse and i have exhausted all excuses i can come up with to defend her for her immaturity. nonetheless, i still listen patiently, never disagreeing, never agreeing--for she is my mother, she must be honoured.

for this i am upset: my mother thinks that i have no other redeeming qualities except for my youth, and my face. many times had she suggested that i join a certain airline as a flight stewardess, or try my luck in the entertainment circle. i was thoroughly amused at first, but as i found out that she is (note: present tense) serious, i got fucking annoyed. to her, such occupations open up my social network. i will be able to meet more people, meet more men, meet wealthy men. in short, my beauty may function as a bait to wealth even if it is without love, for love is nothing in exchange for a comfortable life.

she tells me that there is no use pinning all my hopes on only one man for my future. she doesn't think that gavin is good enough for me. she tells me to set my expectations higher in search of a better (this means richer) man. all of these superficial talk had just brought my respect for her to a new found low. oh what will she say, when gavin's the one bringing home the bacon to feed her ungrateful mouth when she's old? she is my mother, but that does not give her the liberty to make sordid presumptions about a man i want to marry. as morbid as this may sound, i used to contemplate suicide. gavin and my friends are my pillars of strength. without them, i would have crumbled like a cookie. with them, i am wonderwoman.

since the age of fourteen, she has told me umpteen times that i should find a wealthy man for a husband. she has told me stories of female celebrities marrying rich men and are living the life. even at fourteen, i knew that she was infusing the wrong values no daughter should ever be exposed to. since i was fourteen, i knew that i had to get out of this place. 8 years have since passed, and i'm still stuck in this hellhole. and trust me, to say that i live in a hellhole at the age of 22, it sure damn is a hellhole.

i cook, i clean, i wash, i study and i work. but to an ungrateful mother that is never enough. i do not want to self-victimise, nor put her in a bad light. but the truth speaks for itself--i am rarely appreciated, and chided if it's not up to her expectations. sometimes i think to myself, "at least cinderella only did chores." she throws tantrums even my teenage sister isn't capable of. it used to scare me, but then it became obvious--she is disgruntled with her life with work and chores, and doesn't want me to follow in her footsteps. she hates her life so much, she tries her mighty best to deter me from doing the same after i'm married, but unknowingly puts me through shit in the process.

her attempts, afterall, have not been futile. i have learned the right values, i have learned to talk to my sister to lead her in the right direction. i have learned contentment, and most importantly i have learned not to be like her.

thank you for reading this whole chunk of soliloquy. good night, and good bye.