The Strings

What was the beginning of it all? How did I grow up to be a teen who simply obeys orders? How did I end up being my parents' puppet?

When I was younger, I had a toy that I really like, but my father refused to buy it
since it was a car. He thought it was solely for boys, so he took the toy next to it instead. A doll dressed in a pink gown.

Even though it was awkward, I agreed with him. I made myself play with it, but I envy the boys who have toy vehicles.

One night, in our typical living room setup. While my mother is combing my hair, my father and I are casually watching television.

He stated "When you grow up, I want you to be a doctor", smiling broadly at me.

As she combed my hair, my mother agreed right away. "It's a good idea for our daughter. She will be pretty on a white and neat scrubs. You will be a great doctor with big hospitals and maybe someday you will make us rich."

As a child who didn't know what she wanted, I remained silent, but I knew deep down that the idea didn't sit well with me.

My mother was also constantly questioning my actions. "Why do you walk like a man? This is how ladies should walk." I saw her calm walking posture and how she crossed her legs at each step.

She acted like those mean girls at school who always act as though they're better than everyone else. They enjoy bullying everyone, including me, which I am unconcerned about. It would be really disgusting to be like them. As a result, I chose to do it only when my mother was around.

They made practically all of my decisions until I was a teenager. They expect highly on my achievement on school. For them, I should be the perfect daughter. I am well aware that I am stupid, but I made every effort to have high grades. Because one test wrong is equivalent to ignoring me for a day. It happened so frequently that I felt awful, so I sat up late at night to perfect the quizzes. And anytime I show it to them, they will make me feel loved and proud of myself at that moment.

They also make the decisions on what I should wear. I like jeans and loose tees, but they always want me to wear a dress or something dainty. I wasn't pleased, but I had no choice but to follow them.

"We are your parents, and we know what is best for you," they always claimed when I was a child, and it's engraved in my head.

Yes, they are my parents, but as I grew older, I learned that I needed to make my own decisions. And they always sounded as if they knew more of me than I did.

I had no idea why they were torturing me like these. There isn't even a good reason for it. The only conclusion I can draw is that they enviously look upon those who have a "perfect daughter," which will never exist, and even if it does, I am not one of them. They always claim and want the best for me, but the truth is that they are ruining my life. They treat me as if I were a slave or a puppet who must act according to their own desires.

I'd had enough; I know they're my parents, and I owe them respect since they're the ones who look after and provide for me on a regular basis. But I know where they fail miserably by treating me like a puppet who is obedient to their desires.

That's why, now that I'm in college, instead of becoming the doctor they always intended me to be, I'd like to take a police academy course.

"Why didn't you tell us?" my father said angrily. I just dropped my head and didn't say anything out of fear.

"I'm asking you so answer me!" he yelled, tossing the paper in his grip and slapping the things he could hold in his hand.

My mother was rushed to enter our home. "What is going on here?" No one responded. But she saw the paper that landed on her feet. She read it silently and I can see how her expression changed. From a confused face it turns to an anger look. "What is this, and why is it registered as a police course?" she said, her voice rising with wrath.

Despite the fact that I was sweating from nervousness, I was able to take a deep breath and clench my fist. I have never fought or fought for my rights in the number of days they became upset because of what they didn't want for me. But that won't happen again because I'm going to tell them what's actually good for me now.

"Because that's what I like", I replied emphatically.

"What?" they all exclaimed at the same time. "You're already answering-" I cut off my father in the middle of his sentence.

Instead, I said the words I'd been holding onto for a long time. "I said I wanted to be a policewoman. I don't want to be a doctor because you're the only one who likes it. I don't like the toys you always give me. I don't like the clothes you want for me. And I'm not particularly smart, but I'm trying to perfect those freaking quizzes because that's what you expect!" And cried after letting all of it out.

They were both very silent. I couldn't read their expressions when I looked at their faces. I took a step back, even though I was still feeling bad about what had happend because I had yelled at them.

Facing my back, it was as if I'd released the grief I'd been carrying my whole life, and my body felt lighter for the first time since finally no one was holding it. The strings that attached to it have been cut. First string... second string... third string... as well as the fourth string, I held my breath cutting it.

I was watching the girl puppet in the dress fall and find her freedom for the first time. "That is the story of The Strings," I said, bowing to the cheers of the audience.

"The story conveyed that we should have a principles to fight for our freedom. And the lesson I wanted you all to remember is that you should be the one to decide for your own good, let your parents be your guidance without them being unfair because there's only one person who knows what you are and what is really right for you and that is the one and only you. Thank you." Finally, the crimson curtain is drawn back.