I was so surprised by the way my mom treated me back home. She never said a word about anything that happened, that I might have done to her, nothing negative. It surprised me really.
I felt terrible leaving after my sister died. I still do. I guess it’s because I’m raised to believe in family as a sort of God. I feel like I need to justify why I left and didn’t stay to help my mom.
The second day I was there my Dad asked me to wear skirts only. He did so in a very nice manner but it didn’t leave me any room to say no. It was a demand. I didn’t have any skirts with me, I hardly had clothes with me to begin with and I told him that I’d be fine in pants if I stayed inside, I would wear some old skirts when going outside. I don’t even know why I insisted on that. Somehow it bugged me deeply that he even had the nerves to ask that at this point. I asked him why it was so important to him and he said something about protecting my brothers’ eyes. So he thinks his sons have nothing to worry about but to stare at their older sister and have sexual thoughts, I thought, but I agreed anyway.
Generally my dad made me feel inferior the entire time. He talked about how happy he was that SHE was saved from the torture of hell, clearly indicating that I’m not. He made a huge fuzz talking about hell and all the tortures awaiting the unsaved. How we could die any day and had to make sure we were saved. We did a lot of praying, most of which I didn’t feel right about. I don’t feel like thanking God for “saving” her soul from hell and for taking her at a point where she was sure to go to heaven.
It all felt like brainwashing to me and I had my moments where I believed everything all over again. I struggled for quite a few days, wanting to do nothing but run back to my family and finally obey so I would go to heaven to be with my sister. I was so scared that I might end up in hell without them.
All in all this tore me apart in every way I can imagine. I considered for a very long time and decided that if this feeling – that I should go back and obey my parents, give up my life and live the way they want me to – would stay, then it was in fact from God. If it went away, I thought, it might just be the crisis of the moment.
I’ve been back for a few days. And instead of feeling homesick and guilty, though I do feel guilt about leaving my Mom hanging with the kids, I felt relief. Nothing but relief. The feeling went away – it wasn’t from God and I’m right where it’s best for me to be.