So… I met my boyfriend’s Filipino family yesterday. They were very welcoming and so funny. It’s sad that I had to meet them on a sad note: They’re foundation, they’re strong one, they’re grandfather (Tatay) had just died. It was a little awkward in the beginning, we had gone to the burial site of his grandfather, and even though I had never met him before, I felt an intense amount of emotion just being in the presence of his grave.
We then went to his grandmother’s house (Nanay). She is such a nice woman, it reminded me of what I had missed out on as a child. I didn’t have a good grandmother ( blood related), I only had grandmother figures… =/ . His family was shocked that I spoke our native language, and it made me feel good, because I had something special. Not many Filipino/Americans speak the language of our country, our parents get too lazy to teach us, but my parents thought it would be very useful for me and something that I could pass on to my children, I’m grateful for that. I love my language and I love the fact that I’m so fluent at speaking it.
So many questions and thoughts had run through my head yesterday, the whole day. I wish I would stop thinking so hard, and just be happy, but I can’t. Questions & thoughts:
1. How could I love someone who loves me in such a hurtful way?
a. This is one question that I ask a lot. HOW? It doesn’t make any sense to me to love someone that hurts me physically and emotionally. I’ve never been with someone who calls me names and puts their hands on me right after they tell me they love me. I’ve had boyfriends hit me before and I got out of those relationships so quick it wasn’t even funny. I never gave them the chance to explain why they hit me, I just dipped out because I knew it was wrong. I don’t understand why I’m still here, I’m still standing by his side and I’m still taking all of his bullshit. It hurts because, I knew who I was, I knew who I was going to be, I knew what I was supposed to do with my life, and now that I’m with him, I don’t know anymore. The more he tells that I’m not good, I’m a slut, I don’t know how to love, the more I end up believing it in the end. It’s so hard. I’m weak physically and emotionally, and I’m so tired of having to defend myself, when I shouldn’t have to. I don’t understand this anymore, and it hurts me. I hate not understanding, I hate feeling like I can’t breathe or I can’t move or I can’t smile. For as long as I’ve known me, I’ve always been the type to joke about everything because that’s what I want, to just smile. I didn’t think many things too seriously, because they weren’t, there was no point to get mad over little things. Life’s too short. I was always friendly, smiling, and I had friends, even if I was a bitch and I fought a lot, I had friends. People liked being around me, because I was always laughing and joking around, I knew I was a fun person to be around and I enjoyed that. But now, I don’t know myself anymore. I’m not this person, I’m not the girl that looks down at her feet afraid to look at anyone, because her boyfriend might yell at her or even hit her later because of it. I’m not that person. I’m not the girl that cries so much because what her boyfriend told her hurt her, because he used her person life that she confided to him, against her. I’m not that girl. I’m not the type to have to check in every 2 seconds, because I’m scared that he’ll suspect someone. I’m not the cheater. I’m not the liar. I’m not the one to make excuses. I’m not the one to be called a slut. I’m not the one to be disrespected. But all of these things that I say I’m not , he’s molded me to be and I hate it!
2. I wish I would end up loving someone and being with someone for a very long time, just like Nanay. (61 years of marriage, and probably would have been more if Tatay didn’t die.)
3. Does he really love me if he treats me the way he does? ( I can’t explain the way he treats me.)
4. Did his family like me?
5. Do I do things so wrong in a relationship, that I always need to be yelled at?
6. It’s not right for me to be scared of the person I love, or be afraid to be myself.