Growing up I had several problems with my parents. I never thought we had something in common at all. Sometimes I even thought that I was adopted. My life as I remember it in Cuba was great, but then again I was only 6 when I got to the U.S. Months and months passed and everything was great when I got here. I loved all the attention from everyone and the gifts. With every passing year I became sadder and sadder though. I started noticing all the problems and it got to the point where I actually thought about running away. Every birthday my uncle would give me lots of money and I would always buy something for me and then my parents would tell me that they needed some money (which was true) and that they would pay me back after. I lent them the money but never received any money back. The attention from my relatives faded each passing day. Then everything changed when my brother was born. I was nine at the time and everyone started going crazy over him. I didn’t mind that he was getting all the attention because it was obvious that, that was going to happen but then 3 years later its still the same from my parents. They value my brother and forget me every day more and more. My parents let my brother do as he pleases and even if he’s only 3 years old that’s no excuse for ripping my papers and writing all over my homework. Sometimes I wished that we weren’t Latin. I feel like Americans are a little more trusting with their kids which my parents aren’t. This Tuesday I was invited to my friends Halloween party, which is tomorrow, and when I asked my mom she said that if I picked up my room I was allowed to go so I grew happy. Then, I made the huge mistake of letting my dad find out about the party. He simply said that without my mom or grandma being there I couldn’t go. I got so mad because they think that I am going to join a gang or do drugs or have sex or drink and I am smart enough to be aware of my surroundings. I have endured many things throughout my life so it’s the little things that bother me. Because of them never letting go to my friends house or letting go to Magnet kids parties (like this one) make me so mad that I actually think about running away or having sex. Every time something like this happens I turn to music. Music for me doesn’t take the pain away but it helps me see things in a different light. With every passing beat I feel better and better and that makes me feel like I exist. I know that they want to protect me but sometimes too much of it can ruin a person and I am really scared but kind of excited to start doing those bad rebellious things because I feel like at home my parents cant and wont understand me and I need to be me without being told how to be me. I may still be a kid but whether they like it or not I wont be for long and I want to preserve my childhood by doing the things I love to do (like sing) with my friends. Really if they cant understand that then they’ll never understand me. Today I am thinking of running away because I am not exactly sure who or how much they would miss me if they will miss me at all. That’s why I think that my life is my music and I doubt anything can ever replace that.
November 1, 2007