My family is important. I was partly raised by my aunt and uncle and it wasn't because my parents weren't in the picture. It was because they would work a lot, which is why I spent most of my childhood with my uncle once my aunt passed. After that tragedy, I would have to stay with someone else until I was old enough to do stuff on my own.

I tried being more independent by doing as much as possible by myself, and in a way, also taking care of my uncle. I would help him manage his medicine. For me, it was a little memory game. I had to remember which color pill he had to take, match it with the correct time of the day, and ensure he took it before or after a meal. Whenever he was feeling well, we would walk to the park or stores and it felt like a little adventure. Even though we spent a lot of time together, there were things he said and did that bothered me. For example, my sister would bother me a lot, but my mom would blame me for it. I would go to my uncle instead and he would tell me that my parents would respond this way because they loved her more than they loved me. I grew up resenting her and all we did was fight. I thought my uncle was the only one that heard me so I was close to him.

However, as I got older, I started to distance myself from everyone. My isolation was met by comments from my uncle. He would tell me that I looked depressed. I didn't know what to say. This was a message he constantly delivered every day and I couldn't take it. I finally snapped. I told him that maybe I was depressed. He didn't like my response and took it as a form of disrespect. He got mad and didn’t talk to me. Instead, he invested his time in supposedly teaching me how to be a better person. As he put it, he was teaching me to be more “lady-like”.

He went on a trip to Mexico for a month and my family noticed that I was so much different when he wasn’t around. I didn’t notice but I did feel a bit of relief when he was not there. When he came back, he was different. He became mean and bossy and I just thought he was getting old. I remember making hot chocolate on the stove while I was at home during online school. The teacher called my name over Zoom so I left the milk on the stove. He told me that I should stir the milk and I told him to give me a second. He got angry and unleashed a list of horrible words on me. The last comment he ever said to me was, “If you don’t learn how to cook, it will make you a worthless wife and you will probably get abused by your husband.”

I went to my room and told my sister everything. My sister told my dad, and he was not having it. He told my uncle that it wasn’t his place to tell me anything. My dad defended my sister and me. He told my uncle that we didn't need anyone else telling us what to do. My uncle's words hurt. I talked to my sister and she told me ¨You’re not worthless, it has just always been their way of raising their kids. They have always thought that girls should learn from a young age to cook and clean and that's not true.” I let his words control me and I would always bring myself down. I am learning to move past them, but it is a work in progress.

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