My relationship with my dad is toxic.

What finally made me come to terms with this was one night, after I have moved back home temporarily until I finish grad school, my dad asks me, “When am you going to start paying mom back for food and rent?” I tell him that I don’t have the ability to do so now, but once I start working again, I will do the best that I can to help them out. Chinese filial piety has been ingrained into me, after all. But his words, they were harsh, manipulative, and full of blame. I felt guilt, self-hate, shame and helplessness like I was a child again. Does one normally cry when talking to one’s parent? My dad doesn’t even really know how much his words affect my psychological well-being. Perhaps it was how he was raised since he was also the oldest child and is just replicating it. Undoubtedly, it is hard to break free from the psychological cycles of those who have raised us.

Growing up, I would do anything to feel appreciated by my dad. I wanted to be a good daughter so he would ask how I was doing in school, to care about me, to love me. It seemed to me that I can only be loved if I am useful so I made sure to always do what I was told. When I occasionally went out to play with my friends and forgot to do something at my parents’ store, I would get heavily criticized. “Why are you running around with those stupid kids? You need to help your mother out at the store and stop fooling around.” I was seven at that time. Those are the times that I started internalizing that I cannot have fun or be happy without his approval. During my teenage years, I wanted to hurt myself because I felt that I was not worthy of being loved. He never asked how I was doing and I started to believe that he hated me. Everything I did, whether it was asking for a ride to marching band practice or going over to a friend’s house, seemed like I was being a nuisance to him. Why does he have to take time away from his busy schedule to take care of me? Those heavy sighs. Mutters under his breath. I’ve thought of suicide or cutting myself, but never had the courage to do so. I also thought about my mother and how hurt she would be. However, self-harm comes in many forms; if it’s not physical, it’s psychological. To this day, I still struggle to not emotionally and mentally self-harm.

The thing about toxic relationships, they tend to attract future toxic relationships. So I always question myself. You don’t really break free from it and it is a constant struggle you have to consciously make. I’ve questioned friendships. I don’t let that many people close. Part of it is because I’m an introvert, but also because I put up shields so that I don’t potentially hurt other people. I’ve questioned my love relationship and wonder if it is toxic. If I let it go into that downward spiral, I know it will ruin my current relationship.

Ignorance is bliss. But that’s also how cycles repeat. History repeats itself because too few become educated enough to stop the cycles. How do you know what’s the truth? You don’t. You look at different sources, analyze your data, compare and contrast to your own beliefs and what you can accept, and figure it out for yourself. The truth will change the more you know or realize you don’t know. I say this because in toxic relationships, the way you see the world and interact with people is a bit skewed until you compare perspectives to combat everything that you have internalized and normalized. I learned that there are other forms of love out there and I began to look at things with a different light.

In some ways, I was forced to look at my relationship analytical because my boyfriend is also my dance partner. I have always believed that dance is a reflection of life and certain aspects of it are magnified through dance, even the negative aspects. My coaches helped us analyze our partnership and how we communicated with each other. What are the words we say to each other that can be hurtful and passive-aggressive? How can we make practices more objective and effective by clearly stating what we want and what we need to make the dancing better? By analyzing our partnership, our own self-esteem, and how we communicate in dance, it has made us more conscious of how we interact with each other outside of practices.

The toxin has spilled into all aspects of my life and the problem with toxic relationships with family members is that there are still family obligations. It’s a scar and it never goes away. My siblings are affected. I’m afraid my brother will become like him the most. You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family. However, I can choose to not let it control or define me. Yes, it’s a constant struggle to find a balance, especially since I tend to overanalyze, but acknowledgment is a step towards healing. For a long time, I’ve tried to push it away but if I am to love myself again, I have to acknowledge it, learn to be resilient, and overcome it.

I am one of the lucky ones. There are others in more toxic relationships whom are not so lucky. There are many times I wonder if certain people weren’t in my life, how different I would have turned out. My mom’s quiet love saved me. People I’ve let into my heart, saved me. Dance saved me. This is why I chose to write this. I needed to write this so I stop bottling it all in. It is dark and heavy, but it is a part of me that most people do not see. Not everyone seeks help and knows to seek help; this is especially true of Asians and Asian-Americans because criticism of our elders and mental health issues are stigmatized. Therefore, it just remains bottled in and it hurts. There are repercussions to pushing the issues aside; we hurt the people we love and the cycle repeats itself. So don’t be afraid of sharing your story. Don’t be afraid of seeking help. We need to break our chains and learn to truly love ourselves.