I used to tell myself that we’d be better off,
If my mama left him.
We had our share of violence.
We used to get beaten with a belt,
And any other object along the way,
Until I would pee myself.
I still remember when he broke my finger when I was young.
He wouldn’t take me to the hospital for two days,
Thinking it was just a bruise,
Then it turned out to be a fracture.

My father came in and slapped me on the face.
“Isn’t it enough what you did?” he said.
Then my mother said,
“Isn’t it enough what happened?!
Isn’t it enough what you did?
What more will you do?”

Why are you so sure, mama, that my future will be exactly like yours?
Why not be thankful that I’m learning from your mistakes?
Why are you so sure that I’ll get married soon like you and ruin my life?
(That’s what mama said.)

They made my sister stay at home when she reached high school.
“You’ll eventually get married and stay at home,
And even if you continue your education,
You won’t work anyway,” they said.
masculinity, marriage, parents

My father was the first person to touch me.
I used to tell myself that I was imagining it.
When he’d touch me with his leg from behind,
I’d tell myself he was just being playful.

I’m 19 years old.
Today, baba beat me with a rubber hose and shoved me to the floor

When I was in middle school, someone beat me up.
We were playing football, and he beat me up, so I went home crying.
My dad saw me and asked why I was crying, so I told him what had happened.
masculinity, social pressure, parents

"How’s your love life?” she asked.
I forced a laugh.
The question embarrassed me.
She insisted that I was a romantic and that apparently my whole family were romantics.
"You know,” she began, “if you want to get married, I could bring you a lot of suitors to meet.”

When I was a 13-year-old girl,
My parents were a little strict with me.
But they’re my parents,
And I could never let go of them.
When I grew up,
I knew that we couldn’t function as a normal family.
I was subjected to violence by my mother and father.
My siblings too.

I was in highschool at the time.
It was inappropriate to tell mama about this sort of thing,
She never said so,
But I had a feeling that what happened could not be talked about.