Bound To Principle.

I had a conversation with my parents.

Admitted it was more a heated argument- a shouting of wills and statements, judgements and predictions (it'll make more sense in a little while); what came as a result of it has been an odd type of silence.

I've never truly experienced the cliché "to walk on egg shells" until that afternoon when my family and I were exposed fully to the revelations I was about to dispose upon them. It was a tough call- do I continue to allow them to lecture and bind me to the world they still see built around them, or, somehow just as unattractive to myself, tell them what I feel and deal with the inevitable, thereafter?

I chose the latter. I had to.

Feelings were hurt- continuous dissapointment followed. But the odd thing is that since then, despite the wounded comments which have floated from my parents mouths, it has left a fuzzy 'crumple zone' between them and I. Fear that- if we get too close now- both to one another as well as the subjects discussed, we may collide principles again.

Regardless of whether or not my parents like my principles, regardless of whether or not I like theirs, this zone would be the sign that we have matters which are unsolvable- this present day. It comes in the form of a tentative silence which builds up whenever they want to ask me a question. I, however, have no questions to ask. Not anymore.

In an odd twist, however, now I find myself trying to open up, to ease their silences a tad.

Unfortunately, I'm not very good at pretending to be content when I am not. My boyfriend has gone through many a night when I have whined just because. But the difference between my boyfriend and my parents is that with him I feel I am being listened to- being made time for and cared for through a type of love that transcends any differences we may have. And we have our fair share.

Aside from the physical (gender) and the obvious (backgrounds, personal points of view etc), there is something that goes beyond just the term "unconditional love" that allows for he and I to be able to share our thoughts without need of this Crumple Zone: ultimately, we are able to share similar, if not the same, moralistic principles.

I feel bad just typing that- surely, my parents and I have the same principles? ... And unconditional love?

... Sadly, maybe not. My parents assume that because we share the same blood we have an automatic unison of intentions. That, because I am from them- of them, I am like them. So, why have a love that takes into account our differences, if we're really the same?

... I don't feel, 'the same'.

Something I have come to realise, however, is how my parents have expected respect from me. Now that I am an adult... I am waiting for them to earn respect.

* * *

Those, ultimately, are trivial things that as people we should be able to over come through one way or another. A child without a single doubt will love their parent no matter what. But as the cliché goes: it's easy to love them, but incredibly hard to like them.

When asked to lie about feeling content with the idea of following principles which I feel are ill-toned, however, I realise that I simply can not bring myself to accept it.

.... Principles? Ill toned??

It's a very conflicting situation. My parent's principles are very Asian. My own were very Asian, too- up until recently very. Heck... they were as identical as I could make them without ever having really thought about making my own. Why bother when generation after generation of my relatives have lived and died by those rules? They created me from these principles... surely that was proof enough to live by them?

The fact that this entry has taken me so long to publish reveals that I've contended with this topic for a very long time. Writing these things can be very emotional indeed, and sometimes, it simply doesn't feel right to publish something in the heat of the moment, only to realise that isn't really what I meant.

It's sad that I can so easily blame my parents for things- for my own lack of exploring that which was important- my Self, my Thoughts, my Ideas and Ideals. I'd let a fear of inquisitiveness lead me into a trap that I then had to fight to get out of.

Why fear inquisitiveness? Why fear questioning to understand?

Those answers are still too deeply routed in emotion rather than rationale to give even now. Although, I hope, with my own readiness to look within, I'll be able to express them somehow. Someday.

* * *

I love my parents. I love them very much. But when the parent fears losing their child and hopes to hold onto them, there lies the ironic death of a parent-child relationship.

Having someone with you is never about how close you are in body- it's about how close they are to you in heart.

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