To be or not

My biggest regret in life  – that I had a near perfect childhood. That my parents were the perfect examples of a stable marriage. That they ensured I never mixed in with the wrong crowd. That I was always protected. That I never met a thug or got spoken to harshly.

All the people in my life were reviewed and filtered. I got to meet only the good ones. The bad ones were kicked out even before I got a chance to know of their existence. I was taught to trust people. To give them chances.  To not hurt anyone. Even if they hurt you over and over. I was taught never to panic. Because it was assured to me that everything will be eventually taken care of. That there is a place to go back no matter how bad things get. A place where I am not judged, scorned or insulted. That I never had to witness a fight in my life ever before. That everything was rosy and a bed of roses. 

I was taught to be always optimistic. That there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. But in my case, most often, that light was usually the headlight of an approaching train and I was stranded in the tunnel with no way out! This was a truth I never realized until much later in my life. Until then, the fool in me breezed along enjoying the shrill whistle of the speeding train, feeling the thunderous vibrations of the tracks and being happy that I was getting closer to the light, oblivious of the impending doom.

Probably this is how I turned out to be naive. I like to call it naive. Others might call it stupid or foolhardy.

 I really do wish I did tread a few thorns on my way when I was younger and stronger to deal with it. Not now. Not when I am thirty and everyone in my league is eons ahead of me when it comes to grabbing life by it’s collar and kicking it where it hurts! I am stranded even now, struggling to find where this evasive so-called collar of life is so that I can give it a piece of my mind too, before my time is up.

I wish I was from a broken home trained to be street smart from a very young age. Trained to call out on people’s lies and shrewdness the minute I laid eyes on them. Capable of using abusive language. Able to actually type out the phrase ‘kick his balls’ without having to backspace it a hundred times.  Give s**t to people when they lash it out to me. Be able to never trust anyone, ever. To be a cynic. To not want to have a smile on my face even when the world around me is crashing down. To not worry about hurting others. To speak my mind out without a care for the listener.

I wish I could put the blame on someone. But it’s really not fair of me to put my parents in the hot seat and tell them that I am a lost cause because they were perfect. That I am a failure when it comes to living on my own cause they taught me to believe only in the good. Because they ensured I grow up to be a better person. 

I am my own enemy.