The Expected Me

A Story by lakki

It is not actually a story, only thoughts.

I’m a recent teacher of English. Teaching wasn’t my area of interest, but as I had a tabula rasa mind when it came to deciding what I do in the future, it headed the top jobs that could present me with an acceptable funding.

I’m twenty four years old, and according to my local culture, it’s high time that I should be looking for a man to marry, or I would wear a label of SINGLE forever. Fearing that single whisper, I will get married to a guy who will fall right to my parents’ expectations. He surely shouldn’t be like my sisters ‘husbands. He should be comprehensive. I should let him do what I want. He should be well-educated, takes care of kids, takes me on vacations, and most important, an acceptable budget. Marriage accordingly should never involve feelings, but mechanical reactions of logic, and mind. I will submit to his orders, and live my life trying to please him, and not get divorced.

No room for dreams, for I will be a mother. My kids, and husband should be my best priorities. No more travelling, for the kids or the budget won’t allow it. And so my ME circle would shrink gradually. I will raise my children, and move along a ladder of a routinuous life that level up along the children’s growth. I will keep complaining on how awful teaching would be, and how each coming generation is worse than its preceding, not realising that it’s me that it’s getting old.

By the age of fifty, that unique grey strand of hair just at the right of my head will lose its prominent quality, and gets a dominant one. At those days, I will probably be occupied with my grand-daughters, and sons. I will be a mother in law, who will forever blame her daughters in law. I will be fetching to fire problems whenever I get a chance. I would miss teaching, for at least I had a room to leave the house and go to, and most important something to complain about. My daughters in law will have to endure that, for they would present the best replacement. I will interfere in educating my grand-sons, and if my criticism is not accepted, you know who to blame! I will notice things in my husband that I didn’t pay attention to, because of a lack of time, and a lot of responsibilities. I would nag on every detail, on dripping water while washing, or crumbs while eating. I would have flashbacks of my life, and would compare it to that of my friends’. I will feel a deep regret for following this path, then I will be awaken by a slap or a hit by my grand-sons toys, to figure out that they should be my pleasure, and source of joy.

I will die some years, or days after. I picture my death as having amnesia, or a heart attack. By that point, I would have reached a moment that death would be my sole comfort.

I think being a member of a society forms an imaginary path for one's life. This is the whole scenario of the expected me if I choose to SETTLE TO THEIR EXPECTATIONS. The scenario is to be changed according to one's cultural settlement.