I’m Not a Commodity

I’m supposing to be writing a research paper on the ritualistic changes that occurred during the Protestant Reformation. Instead, I cannot stop thinking about how much I feel taken for granted. I applied for a job this summer that I did not get. In fact, I just heard today that I was not accepted for that job. Instead, I will be staying in my college town. However, that is not why I am writing this post.

Soon after my mother found out that I was applying for this job, she told me that she hoped I did not get it, so I could stay home and help her and my aunt. She said that my aunt was actually livid that I was not going to be helping her this summer. I did not know that she even needed my help. I was expected to be there. Expected to help. Although I love helping others, in fact, acts of service is my love language, I hate be taken advantage of. That is exactly what will happen if I go home again. I will just be a strong back. Nothing more. That is all I have ever been to my family. A strong back to help. If strong back got injured, I was tossed to the side will little to no consideration until I was healed. I took care of myself when I was sick. I had to be almost dying for anyone to actually think that something was wrong with me and care for me.

I’m writing this to say one thing. I am not a commodity. I am not something to be only used when needed. I am a human. And I am done being treated as if I am a work horse. I’m crying as I write this post. I’m sick of this. I know some of you will probably read this and think, “Oh, no, another rattled teen rebelling against her parents.” It’s more than that this time. I refuse to be a commodity. This is why I will not be returning home. I will not do this again.

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