Recent events have proved some form of awakening to me, its as if I’ve been living an illusion, a mirage of people in my life, individuals whom I hold dear. It seemed that over the years, my expectations and hopes of expectations in my parents, have artificially surfaced, and deceived me into believing my subconscious from reality.
Respect, a word that is derived from honor, in the ancient times, Honor means either keeping your promises, swearing to something, or even, to regard a person in high esteem. Respect today takes different forms between individualists and colllectivists.
In the case of the Asian culture, respect is a given when it comes to elders, regardless how wealthy, accomplished or even intelligent that person is. In western cultures, Respect is viewed as something you earn from accomplishing or even helping others. Like how you’d earn trust from others. All these years I’ve learnt to see Respect in the individualist’s point of view. That, if you don’t contribute, put in effort, or are a social loafer, you do not deserve my respect. And I, as an individual, have the rights to not respect you or even see you in a good light.
That was what fueled my hate, disregard and anger for my Dad. What I didn’t see or neglect to notice, was the special “extra” bonus treatments that he unconditionally provided or extended to me as his only daughter despite knowing how much I dislike him.
That very night, we had a talk, I took the opportunity to vent out years of contained angst and heartbreak towards him not living up to my expectations a Father. Of course, tears were shed, and according to my mum, I did hurt him deeply. Nonetheless, we all felt it was something that had to be done sooner or later. And I was glad we went through that painful session as a family. I never saw him the same after that, I began noticing the little somethings he’d do for me, the times when he’d wake up from his sleep just to kill some lizard or cockroach just so I could enter my bathroom. The fact that being a traditional father, he allowed his only daughter to be loved by someone 9 years older, who’s probably everything he disapproved of at the beginning.
I neglected to notice that he accomodated my requests through life. And I was indeed (according to Bary) being blinded by hatred and anger, I was being very selfish, and very disrespectful.
I didn’t apologise that night, and I don’t see that I should. But we did acknowledge that we were glad that we talked things out. I am glad that it happened. I’ve started to see my Dad in a more positive light now. And also, to truly grasp another meaning of respect that I’ve forgotten all these years.
Plus Bary got me my very own Haffalump !
