A Grandmother's Trust

Growing up, I always thought of you as the perfect grandmother. There had never been a moment where I didn't want to spend the night at your house; even when you lived thousands of miles away. It had gotten so bad, that I actually would keep toys and clothes at your house because I knew I'd be back for them at the end of the day. I would even make an imprint on your own belongings for me to come back to later on (just like how I'd write thousands of stories on this old laptop you have; so that I can see how my writing style changed throughout the year). You were my soulmate. You are my soulmate. You.

That's why it hurt me to get older. It hurt me to finally see the battles I had to endure. The older I became, the more toxicity began to fill my life; the more I began to grow wary of how you truly felt towards me. Some days, I just wanted to go back to those days when I was a child; unable to see the negative in anything we've done together. I just wanted to go back to the days before you've been so worried about looks, or weights, or how I should "grow up".

Slowly, I began to fear going back. By the time I turned thirteen, you've already dug into my skin deep. At thirteen, I had already started with that awkward pre-teen stage and here you were... projecting those feelings of perfection on me as if I wasn't already doing it to myself. I can never seem to forget those days when we'd sit in cafes together; I had a small hot chocolate with a magazine, while you had a small coffee pointing out all the models and how that should be how my body "should look". That was the start. That was when I'd begin to have the overwhelming feeling of guilt whenever I would start to feel hungry. If you asked if I wanted something to eat, I used to say no. Just to please you. I'd be starving, but I still felt the need to lie so that you thought I was committed to achieving "the perfect body".

I thought grandmothers were supposed to fill their grandchildren with food, not be the reason for that grandchild to refuse a plate. You were my soulmate. You were my reason to breathe. You are my reason to breathe. For that very reason, I wanted to do everything I possibly could just to please you. For that very reason, I endured this little battle called anorexia. You were the one person I wanted to please; the one person I felt I needed to satisfy. You were my one reason to live. I had to live to make you happy, even if it meant starving myself so much that I developed an eating disorder that I still struggle with to this very day. I was so devoted to pleasing you that it became my main focus to achieve that perfect body you had told me all about.

Flash forward to September of 2020. A month that, because of my father, has already been marked as the nightmare month of the year. Although I forgot the exact date, I'll never forget the terror that filled my insides as my mom spoke the words I've feared.

"Your Grandmother had a heart attack and is in the hospital to have surgery."

The words I've never wanted to hear. The words I feared. You are my soulmate. You are the reason I live. Through all our ups and downs, you are my person. Thank God you lived to see another day, but I fear for you every day. I fear that the last thing I say to you would be my last. After losing my other grandmother in 2021, you are my last and I can't bear to imagine my life without you in it. You're supposed to live to see my future; we made that vow when I was younger. I promised you that you would live to see all my big moments, and I do not intend to break that promise.

You mean the absolute world to me, and I don't know what I'd do without you in my life. I love you. xoxo

Originally published on Harness Magazine. Reposted on Medium. Rewrote for Vocal.