I admit that I’m not the best person to write this letter. I have my own share of immaturity, insecurities and stupidity. There’s a high chance that you will not be able to read this. So I guess this balances everything. I’m writing this post because I’ve been looking for my much needed venting channel. If I will not write, I might confront you in a way I will forever regret. So I might as well write, vent out and delete this in the future.
You told Big Boss that you have been physically abused by your own Mom. I wanted to sympathize but my mind and heart are sending me signs of distrust and disbelief. Call it women’s intuition, but I can sense a shadow of doubt from your accusations.
I’m not the best person to analyze behaviors. I admit that. But my personal and maybe biased views tell me that a physically abused kid should register a different behavior. In my opinion, maltreated kids cannot easily relate their unfortunate experiences. They see this side of their life as a chapter meant to be hidden. These kids wanted nothing but a better life. They wanted people to see more of their strengths and not their weaknesses. I cannot reconcile the fact that it’s so easy for you to relate all the maltreatment rendered by your mother.
I can also trace inconsistencies with your stories. I don’t want to detail everything though. You always insinuate that you are a deprived kid. Your own Dad does not provide financial support. It’s only your Mom’s partner who provides everything in your home. Assuming that is the real story, sorry but I can’t sense even an inch of material deprivation on your end. You wear metal braces and I know how expensive it is to avail that treatment. Deprived? In the upcoming soiree for freshmen students, you reported late for work. You were late because you bought a new set of clothes for the event. Again, deprived?
You were sent in this school as a working scholar. Your Mom pays a minimal amount of the miscellaneous fees, which is still expensive as compared to the entire tuition fee in a state university. If your Mom wanted to deprive you, she would opt for the state university, where everything is surely cheaper. (Oh well, I haven’t forgiven you for berating the state university where I graduated. I came from a school of activists but I never emerged as a stubborn and the conceited unemployed being.)
You can’t even remember the last time you had a cake. You mentioned that to Big Boss as if you were not being fed more three times a day. I never had one too. The last time I had a real birthday cake was when I turned 18. But hey, I’m still alive and surviving.
You even told the Big Boss that when you turn 18, you will have your birthday in one of the grand ballrooms of the Shangri-La Hotel. You had the courage to say that while telling us that you are an abused kid?
You also have this trait of exaggerating stories. When we learned the unfortunate incident encountered by one of your janitorial personnel, you mentioned that your family also experienced a similar event. Really? As in your home got totally eradicated by fire?
You also tend to talk a lot about other people. You often squeeze yourself to our conversations. I find it so rude. I almost wanted to reprimand you but I never have the right.
I recognize the fact that you were deprived of that much needed family. Your parents separated. You were deprived of your Dad. If I were to explain, I guess this is the main reason why you always demand everyone’s attention. As I see it, you wanted to engage and force yourself to everyone.
I grew up in a complete family and I never knew how it feels to be in your shoes. Regardless of our differences, I wanted to tell you that you are still blessed. Don’t make us see you as a pathetic and deprived kid. There are other kids whose lives may be worst than you could ever imagine.