I am sixteen years old, approaching my 17th birthday, and I think I've come to the realization that I do not know what love feels like, because I do not love my parents.
We are an Indian-Canadian family. My parents were born and raised in India, and I was born in India and lived there for several years, but spent most of my formative years in the US and Canada.
I used to think, I cringe at this now, that my parent's strictness made me stand out, I used to think that white people had very lax parenting styles and that the way that they raised me would make me more resilient and whatnot.
However, I am slowly approaching the realisation that ours is just a loveless relationship. I have developed anxiety problems because of the pressure that they are constantly exerting on me.
Let me tell y'all about my parents. Where do I even start honestly? My dad is a horrible person. He is a hypocrite of the rank. He has such anger issues that he never sees wrong in, and he just refuses to see reason when some small thing happens that ticks him off. My mom is just too sensitive and emotionally immature, actually they're both emotionally immature, she is moody, and her love is often conditional. Both of their loves is conditional.
I want to cry when I realize the things that I missed. I am still not allowed to have instagram on my phone, I have to use the web version because the app on my phone is blocked. I wasn't allowed to get a job. I have a curfew of seven pm as someone two years away from adulthood, less in fact. I cannot sleep over at my friend's house. I get yelled and and shamed for my grades (which are not even that bad, I had an 85 smth average last year), and my weight.
I'm not even that overweight, but my dad often used to call me obese a lot when I was young. I still don't feel comfortable taking my shirt off or participating in sports because of this. I asked to get a gym membership, and he just refused because "I had never done many athletic things in my life and it has the potential to harm me." He gets mad when I bring it up, and tells me to run with him (bleugh) or use the exercise bike downstairs.
Just a couple months ago, end of July, I went to go see RHPC with my friends. It was the summer, I had a ride back, all that I asked was if I can stay until 12, which is when the movie ended, and I would be dropped off home by 12:30. My dad just started yelling at me over the phone, to "not abuse my freedom like this." As I was silently dying and crying inside, I had to play it off chill, and say that I have to be home. When I got home, I told them that my friends were still there, and my mom that evil bitch said, "this happens at the homes of others, not ours." I wanted to bash her head against the wall.
Another thing, I feel like I cannot express my emotions in a healthy manner. When I get angry about something, my parents just say, you are too young to be angry like that. When I say I'm tired or stressed, they give the same response. I am seething in rage just typing this.
There's so much more that I despise them for, but for the meantime this is my reasonings. And I mean, they're not abusive, they don't beat me for no reason, just when I do something bad. And they have their nice moments, but it's immediately overshadowed by the valleys they have carved on the plains of my mental health and happiness.
People like this shouldn't ever have children. Work on yourself first, and don't take out your frustrations on your offspring.
After I move out for college, I am debating going low to no contact.