resentment
[personal]
if you're anything like me, you've probably navigated most of your adolescence and early adulthood alone. maybe you didn't have a good family life, or due to unforeseen circumstances lost your community. or maybe, much like myself, you are the first generation in a new country. most of my life i had never given much thought to my personal circumstances, the root cause of anxiety late at night or the source of persistence to build something that would outlive me. and a lot of it has to do with the fact that i very rarely had time to think about it at all. but the body does not seek permission to let pressure bubble to the surface. at the great age of 25, i experienced a deep and soul changing quarter life crisis. i felt disappointed in myself but could not understand why. i had been the model oldest daughter to immigrants by pushing my family forward: financially, legally, and at times emotionally. i had felt that i had done my best to plant the roots in this country. as a matter of fact, i had pushed so hard i had completely burnt out. and sitting alone in the ashes of my own fire, my hopes and dreams, my grit, my effort, i realized that i was carrying a deep resentment towards my parents. particularly towards irresponsibly having me in a country in which they did not speak the language, lacked financial means, and very little emotional bandwidth to offer a loving and safe environment. i was completely engulfed with the idea of "why me?" why did i have to navigate this difficult, miserable, and lonely life? i spent many days, many weeks, many months, wrapping my mind around this thought. i had an urge to get away, to run away. i turned to the peacefulness of nature by hiking beautiful trails. i had left the country altogether and spent a month in the motherland with the hope i would find peace and heal.
and i was not successful.
this feeling started bleeding into other areas of my life, the way i spoke to my parents with so much bitterness and anger yet not being courageous enough to explain why. and after each conversation turned argument, i could see the hurt and confusion on their faces. as time went on, i suddenly found myself untangling both resentment and guilt.
it wasnt until much later that i recalled a conversation with my grandmother during my month long trip to the motherland. my grandmother had shared that she too struggled with a strong feeling: shame. she spent many days, many weeks, many decades wishing that she had given more emotional support, more guidance, more love to her oldest daughter. if things had been different, her daughter would not have left the country. that they could have spent the last 27 years together and not apart by man made borders and politics.
i was shattered.
it wasn't entirely my grandmothers fault, why would she subject herself to such emotional cruelty for decades? and alas, it was in that moment i realized that the same way i was giving my grandmother compassion and empathy, i had to make an effort in extending that towards my parents. and it was only then that the resentment i was carrying would shrink and make room for understanding that my parents too were lonely and with no guidance in this country. that maybe they thought the deep cultural values of family, and love would suffice. and while one year later my life has somewhat improved, there still remains a small stain of resentment in my heart towards them. maybe one day i will have enough empathy in my heart to completely wipe it out.
or maybe, it'll never leave.