The strange thing about family gatherings is that there’s always a stranger in a family. That one person no one knows who’s son or daughter is. That one person who doesn’t even look like a family relative and just snuck in. That one person who blocked all the family members on social media. That’s how I feel and see myself. A badly glued picture in a family tree.
I’m usually the one who doesn’t join the family picture. Get my own plate and eat on the staircase. Sometimes I hid inside the toilet and listen to music while they’re all talking about their success.
One time, when I tried to share what I wanted to be, all eyes turned to me and an awkward silence made me feel that I’m the black sheep in our family. Their eyes leering at me with dishonor. They always told me to take courses like engineering or business related because that’s what most of them finished but here I am, writing some things I’m sure they will never read. I’m that infected cell flowing in a bloodstream.
The funny thing is I don’t even have any relevant experience in writing. I’m not a campus journalist, not writer in any form, I don’t even read a newspaper or novels. I just go to school and do whatever the teachers told me to do.
It’s just that I don’t want to be on the conventional. I don’t want to live anyone’s expectations. All I want is to be free.
In journalism, I think I’m free. I can travel, get to know strangers, can go to events and use it as an excuse not to return home.
One time when I went to my great grandmother’s house to get my suit for an event, all the dogs are barking at me. Then it was my uncle’s wife who opened the gate and asked “Sino po sila?” or “Who are you?” I’m kind of confused for a second so I state my name then she replied “who?” She made me laugh a little because I think she might call the police but luckily one of the maids went out and gave me my suit and the maid told her that I’m Liberty’s son. At least she said sorry and it’s fine with me because I don’t even know her name nor the dogs or the maid’s name.
I think it runs in an Asian family. They can only get to know me if I’m a doctor or an engineer. I think they won’t even care if I’m a successful journalist.
A communication student who doesn’t know how to communicate with his family. I tried it before, to start a conversation, pass on the rice, or simply nod on their monologues while watching television with them. But it’s not working. I was thinking to try even more but I’m anxious that they might say why am I trying so hard to be accepted in the house.
But I don’t hate them. They don’t care about my day as I don’t care about theirs. It’s like I’m free from the box they tried to put me in. And this is what I want. I’m usually alone enjoying my meal but I’m enjoying it. I’m enjoying silence because none of them talks to me. I would care more on national issues than to any them. I’m enjoying my life because I’m in peace.
Maybe there’s no need for a change. I don’t demand for attention, I just eat what’s on the plate, they give me enough allowance, they provide all I need to survive, and I can still feel their love because of that. There’s no need for emotional attachment. When people say communication is the key then maybe this is the only communication we can have. Maybe I’ll never be as rich as most of them but at least I’m doing what I want. Maybe one day they’ll accept me the way I am. Maybe one day, the stranger will be recognized. If not, it can’t be helped. I can still be happy anyway.