(P)Roses from the Pandemic 04: Butterfly

Known with set-backs

I don’t know how to recognize the power of first generations

But somehow it is a part of my story

My identity

Something I would get scholarships for

Something that would put me into a tax bracket

But the identity of being poor has never been engrained in me

Maybe because I grew up with people with similar

Struggles

Trauma

A Growth mindset

We did everything in our power to make sure

We were achieving goals

We wanted to be better people

To Hustle

Always Hungry

Do I give you credit for my thirst?

Or it has always been me all the time?

I ask myself is it only Asians, or even narrower, Vietnamese families where family dynamics are transactional

It is odd to learn about unconditional love

When you don’t really practice it

Or when your character is being questioned

Or when your kindness is being threatened

How do you survive the harsh world while being muted?

Where your worth comes from being wealthy

Or being voiceless

It is a balance that I struggle with

With being fiercely independent

Knowing what battles to fight

Letting victories belong to ones with bigger egos

At what age, do you realize to live for yourself?

At what age do balance between being grateful to your family struggle to making yourself a priority?

I am a slave to your sacrifices

I recognize your desires

When I’m alone, I feel most accountable

I feel accountable for repaying you

But maybe you wanted this all along

You know the power of guilting those who are most vulnerable

But maybe you don’t recognize the toxicity you’re doing to your own children

Where you are more absorbed in your current feelings

Where you are more selfish in your own desires

But maybe you’ve accepted that we are individualists

Dynamic human beings

Dimensional souls

But addressing it each time and stating that you’ve owed us in another life doesn’t equate to acceptance but resentment

How do you expect us to live

Wholeheartedly

Imaginatively

Freely

When there’s a constant air-gun in our faces

As If we are puppies being reprimanded every time we make mistakes

Being a parent is more than providing,

You’re supposed to guide and support me and my growth

Happiness is spectrum

So is despair

If happiness is too much to ask, may I wish for contentment?

I am the children of lives longing for itself

Though I come through you, I am not from you

Though I am with you, I don’t belong to you

I may receive your love, but not your thoughts

You can house my body, but not my soul

Life doesn’t go backwards

It goes on