Once, I said those old sacred words. My childhood tantrum, anger-based, screaming words. I was quite temperamental when I was younger, when I got pissed off I shouted it out loud from the top of my lungs. Or maybe saying those words as a noiseless whisper in my heart. Parents. And their adult attitude towards me. I hate when they always treat me like a child, even though I know I always kid around all this time. I do fight with my dad, a lot. I couldn't stand arguing with him and always burst into tears, screaming how I didn't like him so much. I hate his rules, his ridiculous advices, his judging perspective, and his harsh criticisms. I debate with my mom too. I hate her for being bossy and how she yelled on me about me not finishing my home task, forgetting or misplacing almost everything. So, you got that picture of me as a child in my younger age: smart-ass-geeky bookworm who think she knew everything.
My parents value education so much. They are smart, intelligent, have good academic study and they want all of their children to be good at it too. Dad is a professor in civil engineering in my former university and mom got her degree from agriculture technology in one of the top university in my country. They are conservative type of people who I see boring and tedious. They stick to rules, they follow traditional norms. I was raised with discipline and tight regulations. Sometimes I envied some of my friends who were allowed to do what I think as fun things by their parents but mine didn't allowed me to do so. And my very first fight with my parents was when I was in elementary school. I failed an entrance test for a school they wanted me to be in. Their former school. I didn't fit their expectation. That was the first time my father yelled at me. He called me a lost cause. I was pressured by his hopes. I hated it. To be told what to do. To be told what I should be. And their harsh words hurt my feelings. They wanted to change me. To be what they wanted. So what if I am not smart? So what if I am a disappointment? Do they feel shame of me? Why they don't like the hell way I am? Why they are always against me? Why they never understand me? That was what I thought.

From that time, my heart was filled out with hatred towards their attitude. Me at age 12 years old, the first time I said those magic words.
"Go away! You are ruining my life! I hate you! You never understand me!"
"When I grow up, I swear I will never be like you!"
I was a senior high school student when they didn't let me join what they think unnecessary school club and told me to study instead. They didn't let me watch my favorite band play because they said it was too dangerous. They didn't let me to have a boyfriend because they said I was too young for that kind of romance. They suggested me to choose science major for university instead of art which I like so much. They said it was a hobby not for a living. So there I started a revenge plan on them. A rebellion. I decided to do everything the opposite of what they told me. I joined clubs at school, I sneaked out at night to watch bands and concerts without telling them, I had a backstreet relationship, I freaked them out by coming home late at night (or dawn in the morning), I lied to them a lot of times, I was not listening to any words they were saying to me, I fought with them. I was being an ignorant, I slammed my room door almost all the time. I didn't really care about my dad, my mom. So, you got that picture of me as a teenage kid: stubborn ignorant who were always angry all the time. And after entering medical school I got my egos raised higher. I was like, look, I can be whatever I want to be and here I am now, that was me taking credit of my own achievement. I graduated with no significant problems. And I was pretty sure that it was because of my hard work, my own struggle to be the person that I want to be. At least my parents could see me now, that I could succeed too in my own way. I could shut their mouth proving that I am not a failure. Yet, I still paid no attention about them, took no notice of my family, passed over everything and took everything for granted. I still only cared about my own self.
Until… a boy broke my heart.

That morning I was sitting on the couch when my mom asked about how I am after the breakup.
I said to mom that it was the right thing to do. I was totally fine, but I asked my mom if she thinks I will ever find someone one day, a true partner for my life.
And she was very sure that there will be a decent man for me.
I asked her again why she was that sure.
"Well, what you've been through is way different with what I, or your Dad, had been through when we were in your age. Although most of the time you choose different ways, there is one thing that made us the same: the strong will and faith to bring all good things we need for life."
I paused for a moment, thinking about what my mom said. Strong will and faith to bring all good things we need for life.
She is not going to give me any other advices. She hugged me instead.
"You are a strong kid. I knew it since you are very little. You always fight for what you want. One thing you should always remember is that all good things will come to everyone who tries to do things with good purposes."
I was fascinated by how my mom still see me after all these years. Even after how stubborn I was all these times. After the failures and all the mistakes I've done. All my wrong doings and bad attitudes towards them.
"Your dad is asking you how you are doing," she said.
"Oh, mom, typical daddy. Why didn't he come and asked about me by himself?" I asked cynically but then my lips curved into small smile. Because my dad is like that. I really wanted to cry but I was too grateful to even shed a tear because after all my mother and father really cared for me.
The shit is, I just realized about it now.
"You know him, although his cocky appearance, he is shy and goofy even in front of her own daughter," mom answered as she lightly laughed too.

My dad asked about my well-being. He always did. My mom cried because I finally can set myself free from all depressive state I've been for months because of my ex. She's been crying with me all the time silently, and her tears this morning when I said that I finally broke up hurt me more than anything else, even my own heartache. My brother is there giving me his wise advises. He always listened. And my sisters who I thought are way too young to be involved, are always there cheering me up all this time. I got all the love I need after all these time. That kind of love that would never break me. This year is such a turning point, a huge turning point. On how I see myself, how I see my life, how I see my family. The way I see my parents.

All of these big egos got me. Growing as a self-centred human who take credits in everything, my self-theory which I stated: I do this, I make this, I decide this, I achieved this, I can do whatever I fucking want about my life. Making myself believe that I succeed in being a whole entity, completely without following anyone as an example, without anyone as assistance. But now I started to notice how much other people around me, especially my parents, have important implication of creating who I am. They are the biggest significant stars who created my entire constellation. Their spoken and mostly soundless support all this time on me which I tend to ignore. And in my darkest time they are the one who still see me as a light that sparks, they still believe that I can shine brighter than anything even after the world breaks me. The enormous faith my parents have on me, even when I am not sure about my own self, when I thought I was a complete failure and utterly a disappointment. They still believe that I can be more than I am now. Even when I broke their hearts coupled of times, never they loved me any less.

And there I was, their daughter, who are confused with her gigantic ego, who feel all-powerful that believe they are wrong and can do better without them. Actually who have always been afraid if all these time they were right. Which my stubborn self will have to accept that I am incapable to avoid mistakes. Secretly admire and respect them with all heart all this time which my almighty self will have to admit that deep down the truth is I fear that I couldn't be like them at all. That I couldn't be as good as they are.
I decided to work by my own away from home. My dad was against my decision with no doubt. Moreover when he knew I am going to work near danger. A bitter argument with my dad is unavoidable. But this time is quite different. I am still that hot-blooded and strong-headed daughter who stands for what she wants and who she wants to be. But I try to understand his worries. I know my decision is way too risky but I promise to make sure that I am doing fine. I will be fine. I am trying my best working hard every second here to be a better human, a better person, a better daughter, a better in everything. And after all, one thing that I am sure about, which I promise myself to do so, I promise to care more about people around me. And to never took anything for granted no more.

My phone rang. It was a video call from my mom.
"Hello Dias, what are doing?" my mom asked me cheerfully after she saw my face on her screen, I can see her holding our dog. I see my father is there too watching television on the couch. We talked on phone about my doing here and their doing at home.
"How is dad? Is he still being noisy of worrying about me?" I asked.
"He is noisy as always," my mom said laughing. I could hear my dad protesting on the phone, "your mom is always watching these Korean dramas all the time."
"Oh mom, please, how many dramas have you watched this entire month?" I asked, "I couldn't stand watching those corny dramas. I am not into Korean also. I wonder why you like it so much"
"Stop it!" mom said to me, "it's the same way I can't stand your weird type of music." I know, mom always complained when I played my playlists at home.

These kind of warm conversation. Giggling and nitty-gritty chit-chatting which make me missing home so much. My brother is almost never home studying and preparing for his final exam, my sisters are busy with their own school also. I wish I have more time at home with my parents. With my dad. With my mom. Realizing that we are all with our own life getting busier, they are getting older.
Once I said they are ruining my life. Once I said they never understand me. Once I said I swear I will never be like them. But now, I am sure I am becoming more like them. That goofy and boring adult I used to avoid. That easy and simple living humans I used to detest. That loving and caring persons I used to be overwhelmed with. And if now as I grow up, I am becoming more like my dad, becoming more like my mom, I don't mind at all. I am still in search of everything about myself. I can't evade that I will make mistakes again in the future. Much more mistakes. But, I won't make the same mistake twice.

P.S 31 of December 2017 is my parent's silver wedding anniversary. If I am lucky enough to win this life lottery to become their daughter again in next life, I definitely will take the prize.

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