Ever since 2015,  the phrase “ok boomer” has become a staple of the meme world, but imagine saying it your whole life. Hi, my name is Jessyca, and I was raised by two boomers. And before you ask, no. I wasn’t adopted; my parents had me at ages 40 and 42. 

Now let’s start at the beginning. 

When I was little, I pretty much had everything I could possibly ask for. Every stuffed animal you can think of, plenty of puzzles, and my personal favorite, my army of robotic Elmos. My toddler years were the happiest times of my life, and I even got to attend a fancy private school at the age of 3 thanks to my mother. It wasn’t until I hit puberty that the madness set in. My body began to shape shift in so many ways. Before I actually hit puberty, I was overweight, and boy did my family make sure I knew. I cannot express to you how many times I would look in the mirror and frown at the sight of myself. And the worst part is that my parents didn’t stand up for me, but instead made jokes and remarks about my tummy. Obviously, this had an effect on me and I stopped eating as much. And what do you know? My mom accused me of starving myself. Fast forward to my freshman year of high school and my body began to bloom. In other words, I now have curves, meaning that my clothes no longer fit properly in their eyes. Everytime I wore shorts, no matter the length, and a man was rumored to come over to the house, I was forced to change. Of course this was frustrating for me. If you can’t trust a man around your teenage daughter, why are you allowing him in this house in the first place? Thanks to incidents like these, I have to hide all of my normal teenage clothes with jackets and sweaters. I should not have to be ashamed of my body or scared to show a little skin because of what men think of me. I live my life for myself after all. 

Now, you may think I’m finished, but I’m actually just getting started. You see, I have posttraumatic stress disorder because of my father, and I’ve had it for quite awhile now. The issue is that my parents do not believe that I have it, despite me receiving a clinical diagnosis. Instead, they tell me that every parent does something to their child and that I need to get over it. Now, while I could have lashed out on them, I instead got myself a therapist and silently planned to put them both in a nursing home. This situation alone has caused me to not tell my parents about a bunch of incidents because I know that their traditionalistic mindsets could never understand what it’s like being a teenager in the 21st century, which is why I told them that I will tell them everything that has happened in my teenage years when I am 20 years old. They can’t discipline me for something that happened a few years ago, right?

The last thing I would like to make an emphasis on is Christianity. I know what you’re thinking: my parents must be the most conservative Christians ever, but that’s not the case. My parents taught me to love everyone, no matter who they are and to treat others the way that I would want to be treated. They even accepted me when I told them that i was bisexual. My issue is their lack of practicality. Let me explain. We lost our house at the end of my freshman year because the landlord wanted to sell it, but instead of looking for a house, they were convinced that God would magically give them a house to live in. Now, I am not slandering God, nor am I underestimating him, but I am being realistic when I say that would never happen. God gave them a path to walk on, and they chose to ignore it and move in with my grandma. The only good thing about this situation is that my mom got so distracted that she stopped forcing me to sing in the church choir, which saved me from a mental breakdown because I had beef with the pastor’s wife (that is a story for another time). My parents also shove the fifth commandment down my throat every chance they get. I get it. I need to respect my parents, but how about respecting me too? Just because I am a child and I don’t pay bills doesn’t mean that I’m any less deserving of respect. Perhaps they should check out Ephesians 6:4.

I would like to end this neverending story with a few words of wisdom. We only get one set of parents, whether we like it or not, and we should always do our best to love, respect, and get along with them. But that doesn’t mean that they cannot be wrong. At the end of the day, we are all perfectly imperfect humans who make mistakes, but we also have big hearts full of forgiveness. And to my parents, if you’re reading this, I love you both, but you’re still going to a nursing home.