I wonder if I am this way because it is in my nature, or if I am this way because of the way I was nurtured. It is difficult for me to tell because I lived with my sisters at certain points in my life. Each one of them left their mark on me. They were marks I did not like. The most recent one I lived with left the most impact. I cannot tell if she treated me badly or if I was the problem. Maybe I was not a good little sister so she handled me the way she saw fit.
I did everything she expected of me. I ran errands for her, cooked for the house, cleaned, did her laundry, and other chores. In return for my service, she looked down on me. She never ceased to tell me, “You are worthless.” When I provoked her she would shout, “You are such a useless girl. Nothing good will come out of you.” There were times she would look at my face and decide not to talk to me. She would laugh and talk to everyone around her, making it obvious that she was icing me out.
One thing I learned about this particular sister is that she favoured her friends over us, her family. When she offends one of her friends, she would not rest until she makes things right with that person. However, she wouldn’t lose a night’s sleep when she has problems with someone in our family. There was a time when she offended one of my sisters. I suggested, “Call her and talk to her openly. I am sure if she understands the situation, she wouldn’t be angry at you.” This woman shouted at me, “I don’t care what you people in the family think about me. Nobody feeds me.” I was surprised but I apologized and let the matter go.
I was always surprised at how she was tolerant of her friends. They could visit her and stay for days. There was one who came to spend weeks with her. After she left, another friend came to stay with her for a couple of months. However, no one in our family was allowed to spend a single night at her place. I believe it was by sheer luck that she took me in. Even with that, she complained about everything I did. “You are eating a lot these days,” she would say. “Watch how you use the water,” she would caution. Every move I made was met with harsh criticism.
If we went out together and I run out of money, she wouldn’t pay my transportation for me. There was a time I begged her to give me GHC5 to settle the trotro mate. She grudgingly gave it to me. But the moment we got home she asked me for her money. I thought she was joking until she stopped talking to me. It was only when I repaid her the GHC5 that I became her sister again. I know her enough to know that she wouldn’t have behaved this way toward any of her friends.
She cares more about how her friends and others perceive her than she actually cares for her blood. Living with her made me feel unwanted a lot of time. I felt if I served her hard enough I would earn her love. So the only thing my sister did when she was home was answer phone calls and watch videos online. I slaved away to make her life comfortable but she still didn’t love me the way she loved even her least favourite friend.
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I no longer live with her but I still reel under the weight of her disapproval. I am currently doing my national service so I live alone, yet I still behave like the girl who could not please her sisters. Sometimes I would try to go out and have fun but my sister’s voice would echo in my mind, “You are a worthless girl,” then I would shut myself in my room and cry. I cannot even bring myself to make friends, because I fear rejection.
People try to get close to me but I don’t allow it. It is because I am scared that they will see what my sister saw in me and deem me worthless as well. The only thing that keeps me company is novels and movies. I have literally watched all the series on Netflix. Sometimes when I get tired, I go online to look at memes and laugh. I also like to post memes to make others laugh. I wish I could have a deeper connection with people but my mind won’t let me.
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Some nights I stay up trying to figure out what my problem is. I have become so much of a recluse that I don’t even go to church. This is because we have to walk to the front of the congregation to give our tithes and offerings, and I don’t have the confidence to do that. When someone smiles and says hello to me, I ask myself, “If I could not get my own sister to love me, what hope do I have of someone else loving me?” This is my pain. This is my fear, that I will never be loved for as long as I live.
I meet people on the streets, and I look away from their kind eyes. People reach out to me on Facebook, and Twitter hoping to start a conversation with me but I hide behind my phone and ignore their messages. If a man walks up to me and says, “I love you,” I would think him a liar. I believe I am still not enough to be loved. Maybe I will never be enough.
–Paulina
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