I've never officially told my parents about any of my issues. It's not because I'm afraid- though, to be honest, I am- it's because my parents (my father and step mother, that is) are the "taping" type.
The taping type?
What does that even mean?
The taping type, is what I call the type of people who prefer to "tape" the problem, instead of actually fixing it.
They see the problem, but refuse to actually acknowledge it and admit that there is actually a flaw.
They pretend it's not there, disguise it, make it blend in.
My parents expect me and my siblings to be perfect, and all they care about is the image that their friends and others will see. The thought of something not being absolutely perfect is repulsive to them, absolutely unacceptable.
They don't have to fix the problem, or get to its source, as long as it doesn't appear broken.
I see the disdain to imperfection every day in my father, as he complains about my step brother being an arrogant, ignorant, lazy pig.
Or in my stepmother, when ever she sees me eating a sandwich.
Or in the both of them, when they talk about their friend's daughter, who has a girlfriend because she "chose" to be lesbian.
When they even suspected that something was going on with my eating habits, they immediately jumped to trying to force food on me. Slapping tape over the problem, throwing a painting over the hole in the wall.
The tapers.
---A/N---
Hello!
Originally, I was going to post a rant that I had been working on, how ever, I had the draft (along with many other developing stories) written out on my iPod, which has suddenly decided that it will no longer be responsive.
So, no more iPod, and y'all get this instead.
I hope you enjoyed this, and if you didn't, then......
oops.
~Megan
~~~
You are Worth Every Breath You Take.
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My Friend Ana
कविताPoems, rants, and thoughts about eating disorders, depression, abuse, personal struggles, and many other subjects that society dawns as "taboo".
