Someone Who Isn't Like Him
Note: This was written on March 23, 2022. I randomly came across this entry while scrolling for other academic essays I could share. Instead, this is what I found. This is a Socarts Essay with the topic of "Ideal Icon". I honestly don't remember writing this, and I'm not quite sure how to feel about it again. Well, 19-year-old me ain't playing, hahah.
For most, ‘ideal’ means perfection; and an ideal person is a have-it-all type—like wealth, status, looks, career, happy life, and family—everything that a person could've ever asked or wished for. While for others, it could be their parents, their brother or sister, a relative, or perhaps someone they don’t personally know, like a celebrity. However, for me, an ideal person or icon is someone who isn’t like him; my father.
Most of his friends view him as a loving father, and I wouldn’t necessarily disagree with that. He wasn’t anywhere near perfect, but he was a good ‘father’ to us for quite a long time. He cradled us when we were little, brought us little gifts or food before he came home sometimes, hugged us when we sleep and scolded us when we were in the wrong. I have a few memories of him when I was little, which I barely remember, and fewer as I grew older. You might wonder why my ideal person is someone who isn’t like him when it sounds like he was good to us. That’s right, he was good to us—but not for long.
I do not wish for a perfect one. And I know that he did what he knew and what he could for us. All I’m asking for, though, was someone who wouldn’t abandon us; a ‘father’ that was supposed to be there for us. Someone gentle and patient. Someone who’d taught us how to love, and if needed, to fight; to not be afraid of the darkness of the night. One who would’ve loved and prioritized us like he would with himself. Or someone honest and reliable, who would support and guide us. I’m sure he’d be too awkward to do all that now to me and to my other siblings, who are now slowly getting older, too. But I at least hope he becomes someone like that for my two younger siblings before it’s too late.
You may be wondering, again, why I seem to hate his guts, or why I sound like I have a lot of pent-up grudge towards him. Well, long story short—He once ignored our youngest, my sister, crying and asking for him to come home, and only to find out that he was out with his mistress. He started refusing to take us to and from school, giving a lot of excuses, only to hear from other people that he was with her again. Then he started to cut down the budget for us every month, gets angry for every little stuff, treats, and makes us feel as if we’re scamming him or robbing him of his money. And, he treated Mom badly. So I hated him for it even more. And I’m sure he hated my guts, too, as he refuses to communicate properly with me, and even went as far as unfriending me on Facebook. He hates my strong-willed character and ugly mouth. But father, like how the saying goes, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’m just a little too much like you. And I hate myself for that, too.
Now, I have grown up to be someone who has a very twisted and bitter view of life and relationships. But for the sake of my siblings, the void, place, and responsibilities he left and ran away from, I will be the ideal person I want to be— someone my siblings can look to for protection and security. A person whose desire is to teach them the world around them, make sure they grow up to take care of themselves. Someone who, no matter what, will be there to make sure they’re safe and happy.
As for me, I thank him for being a father to me, even for just a short time. It’s been four years, and I’m turning twenty soon. He was gone long before I knew I needed him. Even so, I try every day to strive to be someone better—someone who isn’t like him.