Breaking the Cycle

Home is where you are supposed to be safe. Home is supposed to be your lighthouse in the storm. You are taught to love your parents unconditionally, but their love has conditions. They will love you if you are perfect. Mom says she will love you more if you speak only English. Spanish is your first language, but you give it up to make mom happy, since she cannot understand your language. Every day you tell mom and dad “I love you,” and you get back, “That’s nice dear.” Slowly, over many years, you look at what is wrong with you. You see your brothers and sisters getting the love and attention you so desperately crave. “They have problems,” mom said. “They need us more,” dad states. You wonder why you are left to fend for yourself when you are the youngest? Why won’t they love you? Why are you so much less than? You are bullied by your older siblings, who love to torment you, and crack the cruelest jokes on you. They tell you you’re not worthy of having friends or being liked. They even send other children to torment you. You’re small and afraid, but so tired of the torment. Your anger and resentment is so built up that when one bully pushes you down, you get up and punch them in the nose, and hear the satisfying crack of bone. You get called into the office, they try to blame you, but you’re half the size of the bully.

Years pass you by, you’ve learned the hard lesson in life, family sucks. You walk away before it can destroy you or your young son. You’re determined to break the cycle. You want your child to always know that he is loved, and nothing will ever take your love from him. Then you have another child. A beautiful, red-headed little girl. You let your son know that you have plenty of love for both of them. Teach him to be kind to his sister, she will need him to protect her, like you had wished your family had protected you. Teach him to be kind and caring. One day, when they are a little older, you find them fighting, he’s been bullying her with his friends. You pull him aside, he hates having a little sister, he wishes he had a little brother instead. “Boys are so much better,” he says. Break the cycle now. You take his prized possessions away. You grounded him for two weeks. If he wants his video games back, he must read Of Mice and Men. “I hate reading!” But he’s desperate to get his video games back. After a week, he comes to you, crying. “Why mom?” He asks. You know he’s finished the book. Your child, who has never cried, has finally learned empathy from reading a book.

More time passes, and in just one day, your little girl becomes your son. His older brother cracks a joke about how he’s always wanted a little brother. They still bicker, but it’s the right kind of bickering. They crack jokes on each other, but still hang out with their own friends. Your boys look out for each other. Not like your siblings, the ones who stopped talking to you after their mom died. She was always their mom, she only gave birth to you, the old cruel taunt comes back to you. You can look into the future and know that the cycle started and ended with you. You made your family better.