After the Big Blow

As we grow up, we change, so do our parents. The way we look at life evolves. If you are a 90s middle-class kid, Most of our childhood has been similar. we have parents who struggled to make a living and in that survival race, most of the time ended up being emotionally unavailable.

Today I am a very different person and no longer the kid, my parents knew. I have formed my own opinions about various aspects of life, I don't like "bhindi" anymore. But every week, my mom still makes it because she thinks I love it. One would state that why don't I try reconnecting with my parents, if you read most of the lockdown stories, they were endearing, families finally spending time together, catching up on all the lost time, and learning to co-exist.

But when you are on your journey to unlearn and learn, nobody talks about how difficult it is to communicate and be proud of who you have become in front of your parents. You are still unsure about your views and opinions which have a long way to go and the moment they are met with questions, they crumble initially. Usually, these questions induce fear and uncertainty. These lurking fears aren't yours but all the people around you.

All our life, we want our parents to accept us as who we are but are we accepting them for who they are. And even if we do after a lot of awareness and process of forgiving and fulfilling our own needs, there are days when it falls apart, the day you are exhausted and confused, the low days, one blow of heated words and you are back to questioning yourself, do you accept who they are? Have you genuinely forgiven them? and when you know this was going to happen because this is who they are, why does it hurt so much, for once why couldn't it be different. Just for once.

Usually, after such an episode, I cry and I dwell in it before I pick up my pieces. Then I sit down and write an article about it, just like the one you are reading. I make myself a cup of tea and then I remind my inner child that I am safe, worthy and I am proud of myself. I journal about my grief and my expectations. I validate my thoughts before reframing them.

and lastly, I allow myself the love I deserve.