Open Letter

January 17 2009

I confessed to Almighty God and to you my brothers and sisters that I lied. It’s my dad’s 51st birthday and I greeted him with a lie. I lie about having a job and I lie about rocky like the way he lied about his age. Lying becomes a daily habit like brewing coffee every morning. Sometimes lying is a comfort blanket, covering you from cold shoulders, freezing stares and chilling truths. I even lie to myself as often as I bite my nails. I confused lying for comfort to in-denial for self-assurance.

I lie for so many reasons. I lie to prevent disappointments, loss of faith, stress and heartbreak. I lie to others, for others and for myself.

Undelivered Letter:

Dear Pop,

I’m scared of you. I’m scared of you since the day you spanked me so hard that my mouth bled when I was four. I’m scared of knowing that you have something good in your balik-bayan box for everyone except me. I’m scared to tell you that I didn’t do it and I’m begging you to listen but instead I let you punished me in front of my cousins. I’m scared to know that I will be left out as soon as you’re going to remarry. I’m scared to tell you that I am being mistreated by your new wife. I’m scared to tackle my insecurities about my sister. I’m scared to talk about equalities regarding my issues on maids. I’m scared to confront you when I know I’ve done something wrong and that gives me a concrete belief that with you, and only you, I lose my voice. I’m scared like you are scared of how I’ve become, a lesbian.

I’m at the age of being independent and still, being scared did not outgrow me. You and I are trying to make up for those times and yet, expensive stuffs, humorous talks, bottles of whiskey and Sunday visits are still insufficient, memories are scarred and traumatic. We talked about honesty but I planted a seed of lies and every opportune time it grows and bears fruits to satisfy your perfect taste of what is really me. I am still scared and I’m sorry.

I wanted to tell you that I’m always unhappy. I’m difficult to live with and often times I am treated unfairly. My credibility was low as my self-esteem. I am jobless and I am too lazy to find one. I’m having a hard time of finding a home and love and that makes me more unhappy. I decided to keep Rocky, the mini pincher that I promised to give you for your birthday because I found comfort in him during my miserable time. I soon found out that childhood trauma is still haunting me and I’ve been experiencing it over and over in different people and different situations. Wherever I go it is still there, the violence and brutality of human nature.

I guess my tales of lies are much better than the honest ones. It gives us paradise that we longed for. The stories I made up about love, a good career, and a furnished home gives you an affirmation of my stability and it saves you from shame, disappointments and heartbreak because still I am your eldest daughter, and that I care, and I love you and I always want a smile on your face because every now and then I remember your musky scent, your heavy footsteps, those motorcycle rides, silly photographs and the warm of your embrace. I see you everytime I look in the mirror and wished I could be as successful as you. Like you, I’m still dreaming of a family portrait, something to tell yourself that somehow you belong into something, and behind those smiles are pure love and honesty. A family portrait of your own and a family portrait of mine that I could proudly hang on my living room walls and a big one, a picture of our family, your family and my family in big shot that is in harmony like how politicians do for yearly calendars. Hopes make us believe in possibilities and I still have them with me. I am still longing that you will be proud of me someday.

Those smiles that you have on your birthday makes me happy and it makes me less sinful for lying. I love you Pop and happy birthday!