Childhood Punishments

To start with, I am a native from a remote village in the northern side of the Philippines. I grow up with my grandparents together with my two younger siblings and cousins. The story am about to share I hope you reader will find bits of wisdom and encouragement from it.

Tough life to begin with...

After all nobody deserves a difficult life especially being a child in a family. Every child deserves to feel special. Every child deserves to feel loved and secured. Every child deserves freedom to be a child in a family they are brought in.

However, it seems my childhood is just one of the many unlucky stories that it was in faith to happen. If I may say so. My mother died when I was three and to be honest I do not remember anything about her except few photos of her as a left memoir to cherish. My father was around for few years but not for long left us to find a job. I can remember few of those good times childhood memories with him. Growing up, I am always my Daddy's girl. I remember those times of cleaning at the front yard with him and my siblings. The piggy back rides. However, it did not last when me and my siblings would only see him once a week, twice a month, thrice a year, until never. We moved on but not a day that my siblings and I would think our father will come back and see us and bring many presents and also maybe another mother.

I grow up, my siblings grow up and those promises from my father to show up on my graduation or be on our birthdays was just another broken promises. As a child you desire to have your mother and father to be there for you. That I have always thought my father should have been there to support us it does not matter how our lives turned out to be after my mother died.

When I was at primary school, I am thankful that my grandparents and my aunt stood upfor me and my siblings. They became our parents. I had a small circle of best friends. I tried to be active at school as much as I can. I tried to study hard and be a good student. But what breaks my heart everytime was, when I see my friends or classmates with their parents I was wishful that my father should have been there as well for me and my siblings. Years went on until I just did not care about it anymore.

I remember I would always spend few hours at our balcony looking at the stars and cry. Hoping that one day my dad will come see us. And I know that from up above my mother is looking down on us. There were many times I have wished my mother is alive and am the one whose gone. It was tough. Even writing this now still brings tears to my eyes.

But surely, there is a rainbow after every storm. I was 12 when a group of missionaries came to our house. However, I was that kid whose always hiding in the closet and afraid to meet people. These people were so nice and I observed that they do some fun stuff with my friends and siblings every Sunday. Then I thought, I want to join. To cut that part of the story. I joined them until I became active. I enjoyed the bible stories, games, songs, and snacks. It was not a long while when my Sunday school teacher said that I should help her with the kids on Sunday school and I did. Through this somehow it help me cope with life at a young age. I tried to see a brighter side of my life. My daily crying nights at the balcony was lessened and turned into looking at the stars and I would say,\" I will travel the world someday. I will be better.\" I also had this quote, \" Try and try until you succeed.\" I kept my feet on the ground in full strength with my dreams.

I have to tell you it was still shaky and there are times I would be in my emotional tantrums. I remembered my sister and I tried to run away from my grandparents house. My aunt and grandfather was just too strict and we felt no love. But that did not happen because my aunt found my younger sisters packed clothing at our bedside while she was cleaning. She spoke to us and we were punished. As a child those physical punishments were always for me signs from my aunt and grandparents that they do not love us. We do not have a choice but just be those kids who follow what the grown up wants us to do; goto school, help household chores, and be a good kid.

My childhood days was filled with too many rules. It was strict. There were many times I lied to my grandmother so I can play with my friends. So, I can go with my friends to swim at the river. But then again, my grandmother would be out looking for me and I can just hear her loud angry voice shouting my name then I would see her with her stick. I know am in big trouble. I hated them all for that. In those times that I never felt nobody was on my side, nonetheless my grandmother tried to be there and make me feel that she loves me. But still, deep inside me I was mad to everyone. I tried to kill myself yet inside of me something is stopping me.

I was 16 and I was in high school by then, I asked my grand parents permission that I am going to work as a nanny and am leaving home. They let me go. After many years, I have felt freedom. That was what I thought, I may have been out of their control but where I worked I found it hard still being controlled by others. On the other hand, in this freedom I learnt to become independent. And you know what's funny, I start to realize many things. And that one thing being a 17 year old kid, they were strict of me because they were protecting me. My grandmother indeed loved me. I did not see that because all that I have seen was the physical communication of punishments and the love and care was abstract.

Year after year, I wished I was born in a different family. I wish I had parents growing up. I wish... I wish... It was not in my choosing but it was the family that God given me. I am 27 now and am thankful they were strict at me. My aunt taught me good table manners and etiquette. They taught me about honesty and diligence. There are few of the many things behind the strict and tough love from the family that I grew up with. To you who is reading my story, this is just side of my childhood story and yes you may be have a different childhood but similar to mine in some ways. Our childhood affects our decisions of who we can become in our future. It is your choice to be to be a rebel from the past or grow and learn from the past. I have to tell you it is not an easy journey even to think how tough your past or childhood can be but there is wisdom out of it.

One thing now, I am able to express my voice out and let the pulse be a heartbeat of encouragement to others.

Let not your pass define you but be the better version of you at this present and to your future.