23 turning 12

As the eldest, I have forced myself to emotionally mature faster than I age. I stopped believing in Santa Claus very early and lost my interests in children stories first among my peers.


When I was a kid, I remember choosing the simplest donuts so my brother can get the best-looking one. I knew we weren't rich. I was supposed to know.


I didn't have a barbie doll. I was always given my brother's toys to play with and I was supposed to be okay with that. People expected me to understand these things.


During gradeschool, my brother and I divided one person's worth of daily allowance between ourselves. We only got to have the whole amount during our birthdays. I was supposed to make my brother understand.

And then fast forward.

My first heartbreak took me years to move on from. My dad always emphasized control over one's emotions. I was not allowed to cry.

When my mom and dad separated, my siblings expected me to take care of them and my mom asked me to take her in. The whole family expected me to pursue what's right. I threw my dad off our house to preserve my mom's sanity and to give the rest of my family peace. I was 19.

It was not my choice to be strong. It was the mandate of the situation. In the inside, I'm really just a girl who'd love to believe in Santa Claus again.

If one can give me the chance to be immature...even for just a day, I'd take it in a heartbeat.