“I got rejected.” I told her.
“Yeah, I knew you wouldn’t get accepted anywhere either way.” She shot back without thought.
What? Wasn’t this the person who was supposed to be reassuring me that everything would turn out okay? Wasn’t this the person who was suppose to let me know she believed in me either way? Wasn’t this…
But, in reality, I couldn’t be surprised. Throughout the whole life she has been like this so why did I, even for a second, believe it would be different this time?
After all, my whole life consisted in everyone telling me I’m the family disappointment, the family failure, the family laughing stock, etc. But even then, I hoped…I still hope that one day it would be different. Maybe I’m just naive.
Naive in my belief that one day my parents would tell me they love me. Naive in my belief that I would get some reassurance and support, and maybe encouragement, from them. Naive in my belief that this is just a nightmare I’m waiting to end.
It wasn’t always like this. It wasn’t like this when I was three or four. But, of course, that had to all change once I got closer to starting school. Why did it have to change?
Why did I have to become the disappointment…with no right to be disappointed.