Just some, self-disclosure...

After the age of 18, I have a new understanding of myself every year.

On Mother's Day when I was 19, I wrote a lengthy essay on social media — a thank you note, for my mom. There were a lot of responses at that time. Maybe it's because I mentioned in the article that I can experience the feeling of being a parent temporarily when I live in a foreign country, so I sincerely thank them for their nurturing grace over the years.

But on Father's Day that year, I didn't say anything, just congratulated me in the group chat room.

The next year, I suddenly remembered my trip to Europe ten years ago. I flipped through the album my dad kept on Facebook, re-edited some photos that I thought were still relatable, and posted them on social media to congratulate Mother's Day. This time, I didn’t write a long speech in the same way, because the current emotions and insights are the same as last year, so I didn’t say much. But my dad had a problem with this, because he did not appear in the photo, but only me, my siblings, and my mother.

He left a message at the bottom: Why not me?

I answered naturally: because you are a photographer.

My dad's friend said hilariously: Because it's Mother's Day XD

So, in order to take care of my face, I said: Father's Day is your turn again~~

He didn't say much.

To be honest, I've never really enjoyed spending time with my dad. I even used to wish my dad was someone else, like Dwayne Johnson. Even though I know not all fathers are supposed to be that, whether they are portrayed on TV or in the movies, strong, dependable and upright. At least the image of the father I see often in Japanese manga isn't exactly like that, but I know that's the kind of father that all kids aspire to be. Just like every parent expects a child to be—well-behaved, smart, and accomplished.

It seems that after becoming a social role, we have to meet the expectations of other roles, and when we fail to achieve the expectations given to this role, we will be full of defects, and then slowly To be hated and not expected.

All relationships seem to be in an endless cycle of disappointment after expectation after expectation, and then rekindle another expectation and then disappointment.

I had expected my dad to be a positive and optimistic dad, but he would only complain on Facebook when he was in trouble; I had expected my dad to be an honest and funny dad, but he would only have sex with his children at inopportune times Do you think you are "cool"? Don't know where his misunderstanding came from; I was expecting my dad to talk to me about some inscrutable philosophical questions, but he just likes going to bookstores to buy books, and I don't even know if he actually read those Buddhas piled up in the room Lloyd or Camus; I had expected him to be a good husband who loved his family so I wouldn't have to listen to my mom hysterically saying that she married the wrong person and that she had mediocrely cared for three children for more than ten years, It is the body out of shape and the traces of the years on the face. But he is still the same as me, using the machismo that is hated by most women, and continues to face my mother.

As an adult, I have to admit that the impact he had on me was unexpectedly great. Because most of the experience in life is what he gave me. There are many interests that I have developed, and it is also because of him that I will be in touch.

I hated getting along with him, just because part of him wasn't what I expected him to be. However, in this world, who can meet all their expectations?

Sometimes I think, if I changed my parents today, how would my life change, would I still be who I am now?

I don't think so.

Will it get better or worse?

Nobody knows.

"We can only choose, but we can't choose the outcome..." - Matt Wiig, "Midnight Library"

If you can choose the outcome, then your life will not be full of unknowns and challenges, nor will there be expectations and hopes, nor will there be countless regrets waiting for you, and perhaps, there will be no meaning of life.

Now that Father's Day is fast approaching, these thoughts come to my mind as I realize that I seem to have to write something. I'm still thinking about what I should write, but I guess what I'm really trying to say is what I've written at this very moment, it's just that I don't have the courage to put it on social media, and for those nodding acquaintances, Too much disclosure is not good, and for friends and family who are too familiar, these words are too hypocritical and in-depth.

But to strangers, my feelings are like a piece of prose or novel on the shelf. To people who don't know me, it's insignificant. Maybe it's a story that will be forgotten after reading it, or maybe it's a A story that makes you think for a long time. But none of this matters, because it doesn't hurt anyone. You can read with confidence, and I can write with confidence.

Maybe someday...

I will put these words on the social platform, maybe?

After all, people are fickle.

Right?