Unloved, I Heal Myself

1
On my way home from work, I stopped by the local market to pick up everything I needed.
When I got home, I followed a recipe online and made myself a batch of crispy pork bites.
Just as I ladled the last golden-brown piece into a bowl, I told my fianc we were through.
It felt like only seconds passed before both sets of our parents descended on my apartment, surrounding me like a tribunal.
Was it really necessary?
As they all stared at me, bewildered, I popped the last piece of pork into my mouth, chewed slowly, and swallowed.
Yes, I said, my voice quiet but firm. It was.
...
When I was a little girl, I asked my parents if they could make me crispy pork bites.
They said it was too much trouble.
A few years later, my mom made a big batch for my newborn sister.
And then my dad made some for my cousin when my aunt brought him over.
When I asked my fianc, Kevin, if he would make them for me, he gave me the same excuse.
Its too much trouble.
Different people, different times, but the exact same reason.
So, I bought the ingredients myself. I followed the steps, one by one. I heated the oil, coated the pork, and fried each piece until it was perfect.
And as I set the finished dish on the table, I realized the truth.
It wasn't hard at all.
But for a dish this simple, not a single one of them had ever been willing to make it for me.
Oh, Joy, dear. Kevins mother sat beside me, taking my hand in her soft, warm ones. Let me apologize on Kevins behalf. From now on, whenever you two come over, Ill make them for you every single day, how does that sound?
I gently pulled my hand away, offering a faint smile. That won't be necessary, Mrs. Gable.
It wouldn't be necessary ever again.
Now, I knew how to make them myself.
Well then, his father boomed, ever the problem-solver. How about I take Kevin to the store right now? Well get the best pork and he can make a fresh batch for you, right away!
Before I could protest, the group was in motion, practically dragging a stunned Kevin out the door.
Only my mother stayed behind with me.
The moment the door clicked shut, her face hardened. Joy, youre not a child anymore. Why are you throwing a tantrum?
Do you have any idea what youve done? Youre engaged! Breaking up over something so petty? Are you serious?
Why is it, she sighed, her voice laced with disappointment, that the older you get, the less obedient you become?
That last word, obedient, made my head swim.
She was right. I used to be the most obedient child.
My parents raised me like a boy, so I wore my cousins hand-me-down clothes.
For ten dollars, they had my long hair chopped off, leaving me with a patchy, scalp-hugging buzz cut.
They said I was easy on my shoes, so I wore the same pair for months, until the other kids started complaining about a strange smell in the classroom.
Everyone said I was smart, so I gave up my guaranteed spot at the top high school to my underachieving cousin and took the entrance exam myself.
They said there was a future in medicine, so I let them fill out my college applications.
After graduation, they said it was time to get married, so I went on one blind date after another until they approved of someone.
Growing up, every adult who met me told my parents how lucky they were. And my parents would puff up with pride, boasting to anyone who would listen that I was the easiest, most obedient child they could have ever asked for.
But.
The hand-me-down clothes were always too big; I was constantly tripping on the hems.
Of that ten dollars for my hair, all I ever saw was a single bread roll.
The smell from my worn-out shoes made me so ashamed that I barely spoke a word in class.
And the medical degree they chose for me? It wasn't the kind that came with a prescription pad.
Mom, I really dont want to
SLAP.
A sharp sting bloomed across my cheek.
What do you want? Huh?! Her voice was a shard of glass in my ear. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me to the floor. Im asking you, what is it you think youre trying to do?
She beat me with her purse, a frantic, relentless rhythm of thuds against my back and shoulders. Do you have any idea how humiliated I was today?!
Crispy pork bites! Are you that desperate for a snack?
If word of this gets out, what do you think people will say about me?
You may not have any shame, but I do!
I curled into a ball on the floor, protecting my head with my arms, biting my lip to keep from crying out.
When she finally tired herself out, she stopped.
When they get back, she panted, looming over me, you will pull yourself together. You will apologize. And when they offer you a way out, you will take it. Do you understand me?
Her phone buzzed. After a quick glance, she grabbed my shirt and hauled me to my feet, shoving me toward the bathroom.
Go wash your face. Now.
The pain made me move slowly, so she gave me one last violent push. Hurry up!
The door slammed shut behind me with a deafening bang.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, combing my hair back into place with my fingers and smoothing out my clothes. I wet a washcloth to wipe my face, but instead, I buried my face in the damp cloth and sobbed, muffling the sounds so no one would hear.
Are you done yet? Theyre back. She cracked the door open, her voice an impatient hiss, then slammed it shut again.
A moment later, the doorbell rang. I heard her greet them with a laugh that was far too bright. Youre back! Oh, Robert, Carol, I am so sorry about today! You really had to see us at our worst.
And you bought so much food! Frank, you should have stopped them, letting our dear friends spend so much!
Steeling myself, I finally pushed the bathroom door open.
My father was waiting for me in the hall.
He handed me a small paper bag. Your mother asked me to get this. She said you have cramps. He sighed, his eyes filled with a familiar weariness. She hit you again, didn't she?
She just has a short fuse. Deep down, shes only thinking of whats best for you. Dont hold it against her.
But Dad, I
He cut me off with a wave of his hand. You know how it is. Ive never had a say in anything concerning you.
So you cant even listen to me finish a single sentence?
I clutched the bag of painkillers, a bitter mix of emotions churning in my stomach.
When I walked into the living room, Kevins parents nudged him forward. He came over and gently led me to the sofa. A plate of freshly cut fruit sat on the coffee table.
Just wait here for a little bit, he said, his voice soft. Ill have the pork bites ready in no time.
And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen before I could refuse.
I dont want them anymore, I said, my voice just loud enough to carry.
Every head in the room turned to me. Then, they all broke into knowing, indulgent smiles.
Looks like Joy is still a little upset! Youd better work your magic, son! Kevins dad clapped him on the shoulder and followed him into the kitchen. Come on, Ill help. Well get this done fast.
My mother exchanged a look with my father. Dont mind her, she said with a dismissive wave. Shes always been one for dramatic statements.
Youre doing the right thing, Joy! Kevins mom, Carol, patted my shoulder, pretending to be on my side. Dont forgive him so easily. You should at least wait until the pork is on the table and weve all had a chance to eat some, right?
You see how wonderful your future in-laws are? my mom chimed in, seamlessly picking up the thread. You and Kevin are going to have a wonderful life together!
The two of them began to chat idly.
I stared down at my hands, digging my nails into my palms.
When the fresh batch of crispy pork bites was finally placed on the table, a pair of chopsticks was pressed into my hand.
Five pairs of eyes were fixed on me.
The room was silent.
But in my head, a chorus of voices chanted:
Eat it. Just eat it, and this will all be over.
Eat it. Stop throwing a tantrum.
Eat it. Go back to being our good, obedient girl.
My hand trembled as I lifted the chopsticks and picked up a piece of pork.
I raised it, smelling the savory aroma.
I brought it to my lips, my mouth opening slightly.
Then, I turned and held it out to Kevin. You have it.
He carefully took a bite, chewing slowly.
There we go! Carol clapped her hands in delight, draping Kevins arm over my shoulder. See? Every couple argues. The important thing is to make up!
A wave of relief washed over the room. Satisfied smiles bloomed on everyones faces.
Everyone but me.
But no one cared if I was smiling.
It didnt matter.
Because in the end, I would always do what they wanted.
And just like that, the incident was over.
Thats what they all thought.
But I knew. This wasn't the end.
It was the beginning.
After dinner, our parents ushered us out the door, insisting we go for a walk to talk things through.
But what was there to talk about?
We met on a setup. Our parents decided we were a good match. So we got engaged. Our conversations were a rotation of Have you eaten? and Sleep well.
Let me take a picture of you, he said suddenly as we walked along the river.
I waved him off, but he was already holding up his phone.
My mom always says, when a girl says no, she really means yes.
I just stared at him. He had the grace to look a little sheepish. And my dad said thats how he won my mom over.
Well, I said, my voice flat and cold, not every woman in the world is your mother.
I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there.
The second I opened the door to my apartment, a hand swung out and struck my face.
You ungrateful brat! my mother snarled, her eyes blazing. They came all this way for you, and this is how you repay them? Do you know how heartbroken Carol was when she heard what you said?
Shes not my mother, I mumbled, my head down, my fists clenched at my sides.
Dont you dare get smart with me! she shrieked, her face turning a deep shade of red. Now I have to go clean up your mess again! Are you happy now?
Do I really have to marry him? I finally looked up at her, a lifetime of resentment welling in my eyes. He doesnt even love me. He wouldnt even make me a simple plate of crispy pork bites.
He didnt make them for you? She pointed a trembling finger at the leftover pork on the table, then slammed her hand down with a loud bang. His entire family came here to cook for you, and youre still not satisfied?
But this was a meal born from a threat. If I hadn't said I was leaving, I would have never seen it. Besides, I hadnt eaten a single piece.
Who do you think you are, Wednesday? The Queen of England?
Take a good look at yourself! Youre thirty, youre plain, youre overweight! You should be grateful anyone is interested in you at all!
She yanked at my clothes, her words a torrent of insults punctuated by blows.
My birth name was Wednesday.
I was the third of the cousins, and my parents couldnt be bothered to come up with anything else. So, Wednesday I was.
Growing up, on that particular day of the week, kids would always shout my name.
Wednesday! Hey, Wednesday!
The moment I turned my head, they would erupt in cruel, mocking laughter. We werent talking to you. We were talking about the day.
But if I ignored them, theyd throw rocks or clumps of dirt at me. Are you deaf? I was calling you!
When I went home and told my parents, theyd just say, Theyre only joking, honey. Dont be so sensitive.
But it wasnt funny. It was never funny.
The first chance I got as an adult, I changed it.
Joy.
As in, freedom. The freedom I craved.
My parents scoffed when they heard it. They said I was being dramatic and overly sensitive, and they always pronounced it with a strange, mocking tone. But over time, they stopped calling me Wednesday. And I finally shed the name that had been the source of my shame for my entire youth.
Until tonight.
My name is Joy, I said through the pain.
That only made her angrier.
Feeling defiant today, are we?
She grabbed a plastic coat hanger and started hitting me with it, each strike harder than the last.
Let me tell you something. To me, youre Wednesday. You always have been, and you always will be!
The hanger left angry red welts on my arms, which were already turning a bruised purple.
It wasn't until the hanger snapped across my face that my dad finally stepped in.
Stop it! Dont hit her face. What will people say if they see?
This is all your fault! You spoiled her! She threw him off, flinging the broken hanger to the floor where it clattered against my foot. She grabbed her purse and stormed out, kicking the door on her way.
My dad came over and picked up the pieces of the hanger. Dont be too hard on your mother, he said softly. What you said really hurt Carols feelings. She had to grovel to apologize. Ive never seen her like that.
She does all this for you, he continued. You need to be more obedient.
I turned my head away.
If it was all for me, why did they never once ask what I wanted?
He gently smoothed my hair. I know youre the most sensible one, Joy. When your mother sets up a time, youll go and apologize properly.
Im not going.
He chuckled, as if Id told a silly joke. There you go with the drama again. Ill text you the details. I have to go.
But this time, I meant it.
I wasnt going.
Three days later, my mother called.
Where are you? Didnt you get my texts?
I pulled my suitcase along the smooth airport floor. I got them, I said calmly.
Well, get a move on! You need to be here early to apologize, you hear me?
I told you, I said, my voice even. Im not coming.
Youre looking for another beating, arent you Her voice climbed into a shriek.
I ended the call.
Just as I turned to leave, I saw her.

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