When I was 24, I let my employer lay me off (amicably; they were moving out of town and downsizing) and finalized my visa to teach English in South Korea. I’d worked a year and a half making classified ads for newspapers and suffered mental abuse at home with my parents. You can imagine the shock they (read: my mother, mostly) got when I told them I was leaving, for who knew how long.
I found peace of mind, physical health, and acceptance in South Korea from my peers. Originally so shy I would stumble upon my words, I went to noraebangs (karaoke) with friends and became a regular fixture. I became self-assured and proud of my accomplishments. I lost weight by hiking every two weeks. I ate healthy. I inspired students with my own “English is not my first language either so you CAN become fluent if you put your heart into it” story.
A few times I would Skype home, and regret it. My parents refused to get on Facebook so they could see my pictures and adventures. They demanded I send them my pictures by email with the equivalent of a blog post about my adventures. Each time I called, there would be an argument about how much easier it would be for them to get Facebook accounts if they really cared to keep up with my wanderings and goings-on. Eventually I stopped Skyping altogether, just because I didn’t want to argue anymore and didn’t see the use of “keeping in touch” if the other party didn’t want to put their hand to the dough.
I came back to Canada at 26, wiser, more independent, more self-assured, more aware of who I am. And almost instantly reverted back to the person I was before. I suppose because I lived with my parents.
And then I lost my job after 3 months. And sank into depression for 6 months, jobless, playing games to escape my sad reality, and with my mother whining at me each day that I should get a job (ironically, she’s a housewife and has had a cushy life for 30+ years). When I did finally get a job… I’m still there, but despite her repeating that I should be happy, it’s in my field, and I’m too critical… I’m not planning on staying.
Good God, I realize I’ve always had my parents at my back preventing me from being me and from being adventurous. Tearing my self-esteem apart. I worked so hard for those two years abroad to repair years of abuse… only for it to break so easily.
