The family heirloom

Photo via Unsplash / Graphic layout by the author.

This whole thing feels bullshit to me.

I have been trying to write something or come up with something for over 45 minutes now. Every time I start typing, my mind immediately goes: There is no way we are posting that.

And I immediately delete the whole thing.

This has to be my fifth or sixth attempt trying to write a post today, but nothing. No matter what I am writing, it all feels like shit to me. It could be my perfectionism sneaking in, or I don’t know, but I have a lot of ideas in my mind right now. There are a couple of things I could write about, and I wanted to write about. I literally have a list of ideas and takeaways I wanted everyone to walk away with after reading today’s article, but the moment I try to convey either of them, it all goes down the drain.

Okay, so this is probably my seventh attempt at writing today. I have made a very hasty but essential decision to write about the very thing that is at the forefront of my mind right now. It just happens to be this little word,

“Selfish”

This seven-letter word has a weird kind of history with me. Hey, wait. This is my seventh attempt at writing, and I am also writing about a seven-letter word. Wow, hehe.

But anyways, back to the point.

My entire life I have been called this by my family and relatives. Obviously, I hated it. I mean, come on, what little kid would like to be called that? It is the exact one thing we have been taught is bad. Being selfish was always so looked down upon. Hell, I am pretty sure the first thing they taught us at school was to be selfless and kind. Sadly, they missed the most important part of that teaching.

Yes, they taught us that we should be selfless, that sharing is caring, and all sorts of things related to that. But they forgot to mention when.

According to me, that was the most crucial part of the whole saying. When should you be selfless and kind?

I spent my whole life trying to be selfless, kind, nice, and whatever made my parents and the people around me happy. I constantly erased myself just so they would not call me selfish. A freaking kid, selfish. You know what the funny part is? I never succeeded.

Yes, no matter what I did or how much I did it, I never succeeded. I was always the selfish one, and I still am. It didn’t freaking matter what I gave up just to be selfless and kind. Nothing ever seemed to be enough to them. I was always selfish in some kind of way.

I still remember the eight-year-old version of me used to cry so badly whenever anyone called her selfish or self-centered. It would feel like the end of the world to her. For a kid, or at least for me, what mattered the most was that my parents were happy with me and that they loved me. Being selfish was not the right way to get there. The problem? I wasn’t aware of what to even change or do so that I wouldn’t be selfish anymore. Unfortunately (note the sarcasm), I never got to be selfless.

On the other hand, the eighteen-year-old version of me couldn’t be any more thrilled that she is selfish. She loves that people think that she is self-centered and just cares about herself, basically. Now I am like, Oh my god! Do you seriously think that I am selfish? Damn, I must be doing something right.

I am like, thank freaking god that I am selfish. I don’t understand why I ever wanted to not be selfish. Being selfish is great. Hell, it is fucking awesome.

You wanna know why?

Because that means you are on the right path. Period.

Let me clear this beforehand. When I say selfish, I mean the kind where you are not doing something wrong or intentionally hurting someone. I am not encouraging crimes here, no. I simply mean when you put your needs and desires before others’. That is a good, and in fact a necessary kind of selfish, according to me, obviously.

Because guess what? No one else is going to do it. No one is going to put your comfort or needs before theirs. No one.

And no matter what you do, it will actually never be enough. It is a hard pill to swallow, but necessary. It took me 17 freaking years to realise this, but nothing is ever going to be enough.

You can literally erase your whole god damn existence, and they would still complain about the ashes being left behind.

That is the harsh reality.

I realised that the problem was never about being selfish. It was about being inconvenient.

It was about the discomfort that the people around me had to go through because of me. Because I refused to shrink myself and just play the part that they wanted me to play. Because I had the courage to stand up for what I want instead of just settling down for whatever was being handed down to me. That disrupted their whole script.

So what did they do? They shifted all the blame on me. Why? Because it was the easiest way to solve the problem without actually solving the problem.

Make the victim the villain.

It is the classic manipulation and gaslighting trick. Very old and very efficient. It is so helpful when you want to avoid taking accountability, or, you know, face the fact that, oh wait, I might actually be the problem here.

I don’t know what you people are on about, because this right here is the actual family heirloom. It has been passed down for generations without fail in countless families all around the globe. I won’t be surprised if someone finds a book somewhere about how to act like a victim when you are the problem.

It’s like people were born with this default setting in their mind somewhere. What do you do when your child wants a different life? When they refuse to adapt to your miserable, I mean awesome, way of living life? When they disregard all your stupid, sorry, essential rules and traditions? When they don’t want to suffer as you did, and want to have their own path instead of following the one that you came up with in your mind when you found out that you are having a kid and decided this is what he or she is going to do in life? When they want to be happy? Like, what the hell, happy? You want to be happy? You don’t want to suffer mindlessly?

Absolute shit. How dare you? This ain’t happening under my roof.

You want to live your life? What the fuck is wrong with you? You are meant to suffer, not live. You are supposed to make sacrifices and become a puppet. You are supposed to be adjusting and cooperating with your family, not ask for things or think about yourself and what you need.

And the moment you decide to go against any of it, you will be labelled “selfish” and made to feel bad for wanting autonomy and having your own choices, as if you were born to perform a specific script for them.

I have never been particularly interested in family drama. I always liked keeping to myself and staying in my own zone rather than being surrounded by that much negativity. I was very clear about my boundaries as a kid up until the beginning of high school. I used to put my needs and comfort over some illogical excuse or reason my family had, and they hated it because I was being inconvenient and they couldn’t have their own way. Up until this point, I was usually alone in my own company.

But in the later years of high school, when I was going through my teenage phase, I started to feel lonely. Especially after my best friend changed schools. You know, the classic lonely phase we all go through in high school. During that time, I started to become close with my family, and boy, do I regret it so bad. Like, god, what was I thinking? But that was the entire point: I wasn’t thinking because if I was, I would never make such a grave mistake.

I started to do what my elders did. I started to give up my boundaries. I let my siblings walk all over them and didn’t do anything because I saw that this is expected. I was literally made to feel overdramatic for being mad, so slowly I started to accept it and think, oh, that is how things are.

Fast forward a year or two, I feel so trapped and suffocated. Meanwhile, my family suddenly started to love me more and praise me more, saying I am the most easygoing child and all.

Yeah, because I literally allowed you people to walk all over me. I was always asked to be the bigger person whenever something happened. Foolish me, I did. I did become the bigger person. I let go of things I should not have, and I just didn’t hold them accountable. Why? Because they were family.

Then, when I started to become like my old me, when I realised the damage this whole “get close to family” shit did to me, and you know, put up boundaries and held people accountable, I became a freaking villain. Like, how dare you?

The end result? They make me feel like an imposter in my house. But I would rather be that over a freaking doormat.

And the worst part is, you have to. You have to be okay with being called selfish and self-centered. In fact, you have to become selfish. Believe me, it’s either that or you’ll end up living the same miserable life that they did. One life. That’s all we have. We can’t spend that pleasing the people around us who will never be pleased anyway.

What about our own fucking dreams, huh? What about the life we wanted to live? The one we dreamt of, huh? Should we just give it up for what? Nothing.

In today’s time, being called selfish is such a compliment. It literally means that you are living your life on your terms, which is so important. It is like that quote: You either start building your own future, or someone else will hire you to build theirs.

So it is essentially a choice at the end of the day. Either you become selfless, give up all your own dreams, choices, and autonomy, become a puppet to society’s strings, and end up unfulfilled in the end. Or you become okay with being called selfish, get shamed for wanting a life for yourself, and live a life according to your choices and dreams.

P.S. The best choice is the second one, just saying.

Well, this post might be a bit different from my previous one because, as I said, I was stuck in some kind of psychological game between my fingers and brain. Still, I tried my best to write something that made sense. This was probably one of the most important realisations I have had recently: no matter what you do or how much you erase yourself, you will always be labelled selfish. And there is nothing wrong with that. Be selfish. Own that label, or else others will own your life.

Hopefully, something resonated with you, and if it did, consider sticking around for more.

P.S. I publish these essays every Friday on my Substack, [the resident’s log], and move them over to Medium on Saturdays. If you want early access straight to your inbox, feel free to subscribe over there.

Toodles,

See you soon, lovelies.

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