Dear God, it's me again, Ariska

Hi Allah,

I'm way past my teenage and adolescent years. You can even say I'm a full grown adult. But they say you are your 11 year old self, 18 year old self, 23 year old self, and so on bundled into one person.

I'm 27 but I still bring within me everything that happened to me when I was younger. And I know it's been a long time coming, but let's talk about it.

I'm not blessed with a good memory, I think, so whenever I try to remember what happened when I was a kid or teenager or adolescent, all I can think about is how I felt during that period. And how I felt was not great.

I remember being a difficult child when I was in kindergarten, and my mom got angry with me a lot. I remember my brother was so smart, and I was often put in the same class as him and always felt less than. I always felt I was not good enough.

One thing I didn't feel was... security. I always felt like I had to be more to be loved, dotted on, or to deserve kindness from my parents.

I always felt like I had to strive for more.

Elementary school came, and I was always studying. Ever since I was a kid, my parents wanted me to be smart. There was this pressure, that I didn't know was pressure, to perform academically. If I didn't get good enough grades, my parents, especially my mom, would throw a tantrum. And I felt so dumb and small whenever she did that.

But I had no friends, except for 1 or 2. I always wanted friends, but I just couldn't. I just felt like I was ugly, and I thought if I was not so ugly maybe I could have friends. But when I got a little older, 10 or 11 years old, I tried to mask it up with being just overly loud and trying to be funny to win over some friends.

Then I did get friends, but it wasn't for long until I lost them. Because I was not myself. I was trying to be someone else.

It slowly came to me, that I didn't feel loved by my parents.

I was always that kid who would run to manga or anime or novels or movies or games to get that dopamine. But I never felt dotted on. My parents never even asked me what I liked to learn, I always had to follow them.

They claimed that they never pressured me to be like my brother. But why, when we were with our grandparents, they always bragged about my brother and never said a thing about me?

And then they said, here and there, that they were embarrassed of me, that I was a failure.

And it was heartbreaking. It was hurtful. I was hurt.

My confidence was really affected. My sense of self was non-existent at that point. When I realized how they treated me, forcing me to grow up alone emotionally, I felt resentment.

They never said sorry, even when I tried to tell them that I was hurt.

They said, I have to understand their point of view. But they never understand my point of view. And I'm so tired of trying. It will never be reconciled.

But that was 2020, when I confronted them.

4 years have passed, I have been trying to accept that this is my situation, and nobody will ever change. Not me, or my parents. Deep down we will always have this notion about ourselves that we are right, and the other one is wrong.

But once I get a glimpse into how they even got into marriage, I understood that it was not love that bound them together, it was a need to have someone else, to get married. It was such a rushed process. Did they even know each other properly? Did they even learn about themselves properly before getting into marriage and having kids? Did they even have a vision together, or did they just decide one day they wanted to do life together, on a whim?

It's all rhetorical question, you know what the answer is.

If it was easy, being devoted to our parents wouldn't be one of the best deeds that you can do as a muslim.

But that 3 year old, 11 year old, 18 year old, 23 year old self within me, they all want to be loved. They all want to feel that they deserve to be loved, for who they are. To act based on love, to be loved, to love. To be secure enough to have a heart.

It all went from,

"I want to be enough for my mom!"

"Why am I never enough for my mom?"

"I will never be enough for my mom."

Can I just... stop?

Can I just... celebrate myself?

For who I am?

And then there is this need to forgive. Because having a grudge is more detrimental for my own self than the other person I'm holding a grudge for. Because we need to move on, and experience a grander version of the life that we're living. Because a grudge only holds us down to a certain period where we feel mistreated, but we have the key to let ourselves go.

I'll be the first to say that I deserve to be loved.

And if my parents can't love me, well they're just humans.

And if they mistreated me growing up, well they're just humans.

And with all due respect, I want all versions of me to let go... to be free. Smell the air, for the first time.