i see you

"even though your parents aren't what you need them to be over and over again, at any moment they might surprise you with something". -B.J

Recently, I just finished watching Bojack Horseman, the "free churro" episode. He explains his resentment and feelings towards his mom at her funeral, and how he wished she would see him for his accomplishments instead of his failures. As I sat there in the dark, chip bag in hand and laptop in the other, I stopped and paused my screen. The feeling of being a parent when your just a child is something I've been running from for years. Bojack's chldhood was filled with unworthy promises of a life of riches, of freedom, of fame. But in the end all he ever wanted was his parents to treat him as a kid when they saw him as a failed success. To yearn back for that feeling through mentoring or helping others as if I owed them something ate at my stomach, and this episode was just one of those moments where I needed to sit down and cry.

When I was a kid, I can't remember the last time I saw myself as one. I always thought I needed to be worried about something, or someone, or doing something that contributes to the future. And it scared me out of my own innocence. Dear eight-year-old girl who had dreams of becoming a ballerina, I'm sorry I took that away from you. Being the eldest daughter means being the second mom, it means being there when the family gives up on themselves. That pain is washed away after years of giving up hopes and dreams to be washed up by words I refuse to hear anymore. And I know there are girls out there that feel the same way, somewhere. Where that shared pain is yet to go silenced again because everybody fails to recognize it but you.

The moment I realized I was a woman, that bridge from childhood to woman hood, was when my father sat me down for the first time to talk. The dishes were piling, mom was stuck in bed, and God knows how long it was before I saw my siblings in the same room. He looked down at me, (my little nine year old self), and just said;

"Your mother can't take care of you anymore. It's time for you to take care of them".

All I could think to myself, was that it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair I couldn't play sports or learn to ride a bike with my dad or get walked to the first day of school. Sometimes during plays or field trips, I'd find myself searching the crowd for my parents knowing they weren't there. That false hope I gave myself drove me insane. And at the time, I didn't even have time to realize the responsibility that was being burdened onto me. I learned to grow into that role, and now at the age of sixteen I was still convinced that was all I would amount to. The lessons and moments my parents couldn't amount to, I was there to pick up after their tracks. All I ever wanted after all those years lost was just recognition. Even at the end, all I wanted was my parents to see how hard I worked to keep us together as a family. But I don't need that validation, because I know I have it in me. I matured at the expense of my girlhood to become a woman. I recognize what I sacrificed. I realized it was time to change. I see myself for my victories, not for my pain.

To the little ballerina who had dreams of dancing, I see you. I see you for your beauty, for your smiles, for the Barbie's you thrifted and the Bratz movies you wished you could star in. To the girls out there who feel they aren't recognized, I see you. And behind those years lost, you rose from those ashes to grow into something beautiful, that others couldn't see. To be a woman is to feel, to be a woman is to recognize. To feel those years I suffered, and to recognize the victories I made for myself along the way. No parent could ever fill that responsibility but myself. And until you recognize yourself for the hardships you've overcome, you'll forever be stuck wishing you were still a little girl.