I am 27 years old now. A single girl that is threatened by spinsterhood according to them. And a part of a sub-society that denounces common ways.
But daddy, I love him. I said it because I found the person who draws unbridled smiles on my face. I won’t say he is the person that completes me because I am a person of my own. I have never seen myself as a piece that needs to be whole. That’s off point, though.
But daddy, I love him. I love him. Love must be such a dirty and degrading notion for them to condemn it with such hatred. I must be bringing shame to my family name because I accidentally lost my grip on morality and let myself feel. The horror.
Staring at my 27 burning birthday candles, I am more rebellious than ever. All the suitors who.. Who am I kidding. Not all, the few. I am practically a spinster now, remember? My mother has this hope that I’ll give in. That I’ll lower my standards and compromise because I am almost out of options.
But daddy I love him. Let that phrase resonate in their minds. Because even if I refuse to admit that they decided my fate, they did.
I’ll march on my rebellious road. I’ll march and march because this society will not force me into a box of its making. They will not subvert my mind. Not my mind.
A spinster, they said. Huh. Call me a rebel. A freedom fighter. A maverick. Because daddy, I do love him. And you, you will not chain me down.