There are many a times when I get jealous, especially of my perfect angelic little sisters whom my parents adore so much. I used to always try to get them to ask my parents for a favor, because they would be more likely to agree with them than with me. My sisters were able to bring out the loving, parental figures that, for some reason, were seemingly absent from my life. Not that my parents didn't love me, but they definitely loved my sisters more and wouldn't try to deny it. If my sisters ever did something wrong, either I was to blame, or my bad influence on them was to blame. The majority of this inequality came from my dad. My mom loved both me and my younger sister equally until my baby sister came along.
There are several reasons that I'm pretty positive are why my dad didn't like me very much. My dad is extremely old-fashioned, even for his age. He has that typical Asian belief where he is the head of the household and everyone must always obey him, especially women. Because I grew up in America, I obviously didn't share the same beliefs. The cultural gap between me and my dad is more than a single generation's worth. My dad still believes that no one in his family should argue against him. Yet, no matter how many times he's tried to crush it out of me, I always voiced my opinions and let him know if I disagreed with him. My sisters, on the other hand, are very obedient. Even if they don't agree with what he says, they keep their opinions to themselves and just go along with what he says. I feel like this is the main reason why he hated me so much. He refuses to see my want of independent thought as anything other than an act of rebellion.
Another, definite reason why my dad never seemed to like me was because of my poor grades in school. I went to a Catholic elementary school for until the end of third grade, where they had the same basic principles my dad kept trying to instill in me. They wanted my complete obedience to everything they said and taught. And of course, I refused. I would ask certain questions and would refuse to comply with certain directions that would land me in the principal's office. Because of this, I kept to my belief that teachers were not to be trusted and that they were just out there to get me even when I moved to a public elementary school. The public school teachers were much nicer, and gave me much more freedom. In fact, they gave me a lot more independence than I was used to, expecting that I could do week-long projects without a constant watch on me, telling me exactly when to finish exactly what part. This unfamiliar independence added to my dislike for teachers resulted in my never turning in homework, never doing projects, and lack of of teamwork, which in turn resulted in handfuls of C's and D's for the rest of my elementary and middle school career. My dad took this as me not caring to learn anything, not wanting to go to school, not trying to become anything, and undermining his extraordinary amount of effort to send me to good schools. My sisters, on the other hand, would always come home with A's because they always turned in their homework and did exactly as the teacher told them to. To my defense, they never had to suffer through a Catholic school.
The last obvious reason as to why my dad never liked me was because of the lack of the natural father-daughter bond other families seemed to have. My dad moved to America when I was one, leaving my mom and me in Korea. We finally moved to be with him when I was three, but that's two years of precious time in a child's life one cannot get back. I have memories going back to when I was about two or three. I have memories of my mom playing with me, of the preschool I went to, and of my grandmother. But the earliest memory I have of my dad was when I was in Kindergarten. It's very obvious to everyone but my dad that I would form a strong bond with my mom and wouldn't immediately warm up to my dad. My dad's violent behavior towards my mom only widened the gap that was already there. Although it may be obvious that my lack of affection towards my dad is natural, my dad took it as a sign of me favoring my 'insubordinate' mom instead of the 'obvious and natural response' of agreeing with the head of the household. I think he took that idea and decided to hate me back.
Moving on from my childhood to my high school days:
Every child wants to be loved by their parents. Even me. This inability for me to gain their love while my sisters had so much of it made me jealous of them. I wanted their ability to concentrate and study and do homework. But years of not doing homework along with my attitude towards things such as homework has kept me from being able to do so, all the way through college.
So why am I so thankful for who I am, even though it's caused me all this hardship? It's because I believe that it was through all this I was able to come to know God. If I was that perfect child that my parents wanted me to be, my ego would have been much more inflated than it already is. I know myself well enough that I would have believed that everything that went well in my life would be because I deserved it, and that I had earned everything I got, and that I was the best in the world. With this attitude, there was no possible way that I would have opened my eyes to see Jesus. My sisters don't have this attitude, which is probably why they're able to live such good lives. They're able to be well-off and manage to stay connected with Jesus all the way through. But I wouldn't have been able to do so.
So that is why I am thankful for who I am. Through it all, God was there for me, and He wants me exactly as I am.
Verse 2 of 10,000 Reasons (Bless the Lord) by Matt Redman
You're rich in love, and You're slow to anger
Your name is great, and Your heart is kind
For all Your goodness I will keep on singing
Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find
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