To the daughters who are kept under their parents roof and are made to become instruments of straightening out their past failings and frustrations, you might just be one to feel for me.

As to this age, I find myself doomed in one or more ways:

-that what I declare may be a lie at the back of their mind(especially mother’s)-that I have to be out of their sight when I have to use my phone to check incoming texts or calls-no wonder nobody calls me these days

-that when I come home past the familiar hours of being out at work, elicit an indecent dealing

-that I should conform to the future they have pictured out for me

-that my excuse won’t buy enough and win their favor

-that having fun brings me no fun at all or even leaves me in guilt afterwards-have I grown numb?

-that my freedom is barely exercised because everything has to come to their knowing

-that my two most popular hangouts are work/office and home

-that dating is not being raised up and not discussed about in the four courners of our home

-that I miss a lot of what there is to life.

I’ve realized that the life I want to live is somebody else’s choice and not mine to manage. And my growing up is being suppressed when I should be allowed to discover myself and what I can do and want to become of me; and be nurtured by the learnings that come my way in the passing and coming of time. And if you ask me why I have made no action to stop them from manipulating is because I have long been used to living like this. I am hopeful that I get to have a life that I call “my own”. I beg you, please let me be. Set me free!