Your identity is yours and no one can take that away from you. What you want to make of yourself and how you want others to perceive you is ultimately up to you. However, it baffles me how easily our identity or character can be influenced based on the opinions and expectations of others. It has the power to manipulate our decisions. Consequently, this reflects on the actions taken by one which drives them onto a path unintended. The identity of one no longer poses as an intangible identity leeching out from the soul to form our exterior self but rather, it becomes a manifestation of the dreams and expectations of others; the dreams our loved ones have for us. We become a walking statue, modeled by our loved ones formed on the basis of the dreams of theirs. Whether we want to follow these dreams or not, we oblige because it is supposedly the right thing to do. What we do not realise is that this desire to fulfil and satisfy the expectations of others silently consumes us. As we strive to fulfill this role in someone else’s dreams, our ambitions are pushed to the side as we unintentionally and unwarily change the person we are into a person someone else wants us to be.
Growing up with certain expectations, just like many other peers of mine, the one thing my parents have ever had their mind set on from the day I ‘stepped foot’ into this word, was and still is for me to succeed. But I have never been able to comprehend this notion of success they have for me. Is success demonstrated by how exemplary school grades are? Is it portrayed through tests, and anything short of 95% is considered as merely mediocre despite how satisfied or proud you are with the result? Or is it measured by how many integers appear on an annual income? Becoming so attached to this definition of success they have concocted in their heads for themselves, they have become so narrow-sighted and cannot even begin to see the reality and decipher the feelings of ours, their own children. What hurts most is that the moment you begin to tell them that you want to alter this perfectly mapped out plan they have for you, they question you full of disappointment about the decisions you are yet to make. They ridicule you, they criticize you, and they backhand you for being disrespectful and accuse you of throwing away all their efforts and sacrifices, simply because you are chasing a dream that is not theirs. You are placed under the spot-light and you have an epiphany. You realise that your future is not yours, it is theirs, and they have found you a place in this meritocratic society. Afraid of disappointing the people who have invested almost everything to bring you to where you are today, you allow yourself to be steered back onto the right path. Your dreams consequently, enter a warzone with those of your parents.
Growing up with certain expectations, just like many other peers of mine, the one thing my parents have ever had their mind set on from the day I ‘stepped foot’ into this word, was and still is for me to succeed. But I have never been able to comprehend this notion of success they have for me. Is success demonstrated by how exemplary school grades are? Is it portrayed through tests, and anything short of 95% is considered as merely mediocre despite how satisfied or proud you are with the result? Or is it measured by how many integers appear on an annual income? Becoming so attached to this definition of success they have concocted in their heads for themselves, they have become so narrow-sighted and cannot even begin to see the reality and decipher the feelings of ours, their own children. What hurts most is that the moment you begin to tell them that you want to alter this perfectly mapped out plan they have for you, they question you full of disappointment about the decisions you are yet to make. They ridicule you, they criticize you, and they backhand you for being disrespectful and accuse you of throwing away all their efforts and sacrifices, simply because you are chasing a dream that is not theirs. You are placed under the spot-light and you have an epiphany. You realise that your future is not yours, it is theirs, and they have found you a place in this meritocratic society. Afraid of disappointing the people who have invested almost everything to bring you to where you are today, you allow yourself to be steered back onto the right path. Your dreams consequently, enter a warzone with those of your parents.
It pains me to see others with creative pursuits crack under the immense pressures in their environments. They push away their talents, letting it just hover at the back of their minds. It is like the suit jacket is the new strait jacket. Perhaps they are not unhappy with their choice. But seldom do I see or perceive the enthusiasm as they begin to unravel the not-so-mysterious life, the mundane life of the nine-to-five job. There is no shift in their mood nor is there a spark in their eyes when they talk about being enclosed in a room of four walls, typing away at their electronic box. Each word spoken, each word sounded out is as plain and lifeless as an empty melody; one syllable after another that continues to roll off their tongue without joy. It is heartbreaking to think that they had to give up what they loved most in order to sustain the relationship between them and their dictator. It is incredibly heart breaking to know that they are chasing a dream that is not theirs because their master, their parents’ are so incredibly high maintenance; not altruistic enough to even see their child happy. And that the dreams of theirs fought against those of their loved ones, and crumbled.
This final year of high school has inevitably situated me in a battlefield with my parents. It is amazing how drastic a person can change purely due everything they have had thrown at home. Relationships haves been torn and determining where one fits in as a person becomes a puzzle. You spend your time searching for the pieces that fit in nicely around you, leaving you feeling secure in a niche. Whilst trying to find that place and concurrently, trying to not disappoint these people who sit on the pedestal, I have boxed myself into this identity they want of me, changing the person I want to be into a person they need me to be. Day after day, following the same routine like a perfectly choreographed dance, any rectifications wanted is a big fat no. All this pressure to do well and be “successful” has reduced me to hysterical puddles of self-loathing. Not once, have I ever felt so trapped and resentful, until now. While trying to put on a mask and remain optimistic, the silver lining, if there was one to begin with, is now close to being obliterate. I cannot help but throw an “it’s not-fair tantrum”. However, re-evaluating these series of what I sought out to be unfortunate events, underneath this strait jacket, there is freedom. Being controlled for so long, I have forgotten that there is a seam of freedom, and if that seam is pulled, eventually the jacket will come loose. And that is exactly what I have done. Tugging away at this loose thread, I have freed myself and found the person I am. These amalgamation of experiences endured has shaped the person I am. From the moment of birth and all these conflicts endured, this semi-permeable membrane of life has allowed the factors shaping my identity to pass through, giving rise to the person I am today. Although my parents may not always agree with the decisions I have made, and sometimes it may seem as though a shadow of disappointment has been brought to shame the family, the person that this membrane has constructed, this identity my parents have helped shaped, is smart enough to make decisions on their own. From living a controlled life, breaking away and steering my own wheel has resulted in feelings of sheer happiness, permeating through each and every day that passes by.
Turning away and not looking back is by far, the best decision I have ever made, one that I will not regret, ever. I have diverted away from these expectations and through this rollercoaster of conflicts, I have found where I belong. I will not allow someone to dictate where I am headed, I’m chasing a dream and you’re going to watch me.
Turning away and not looking back is by far, the best decision I have ever made, one that I will not regret, ever. I have diverted away from these expectations and through this rollercoaster of conflicts, I have found where I belong. I will not allow someone to dictate where I am headed, I’m chasing a dream and you’re going to watch me.