To be a homebody, to be a Hmoob daughter

Tonight, I should be home.

I promised my younger brother that I would take him to see the Lego Movie 2.

Tonight, I should be home.

I haven’t been home in almost a month, and I haven’t seen my youngest brother, held him, laughed with him, explored trains and animals with him, and spoken to him in Hmoob.

I haven’t been able to ask him to say “thov” when he is asking for a treat, his toys, or when he asks to go with me.

Tonight, I should be home.

I miss sleeping on the floor of my brother’s room as he snores. The room is too small for us both, and I always create a mess, but he just got accepted to UW-Steven’s Point and he will be gone soon. This room will be empty soon. I just want to cherish it while he is still here.

Tonight, I should be home.

My parents are in the middle of one of their biggest fights ever, and months before were headed towards divorce. Things have calmed down since I told them I would not be coming back for quite some time. Maybe they finally realized what I meant when I said I was tired of being a parent to my parents, and a parent to my brothers.

Yesterday, my mom called me over Facebook and told me not to come home. The roads will be bad. The snow will be dangerous. I know that if I come home, my parents will dump the last 4 weeks onto me.

I am my parents’ eldest and only daughter.

I am my parents’ hopes and dreams, I carry their sacrifices on my shoulders. Sometimes their sacrifices carry me in my darkest times. These are the demons we refuse to talk about. When I talk about them, I can never stop the tears.

I am my parents’ eldest and only daughter. I was born to raise my brothers, I was born and bred to be a nyab. I was born to be the success story that my parents dreamt of when they ran from war.

I think Hmong daughters know best, the burden of carrying their entire family on their shoulders. Carrying their emotions, their hopes, their dreams, their love, their traumas. We carry their love, even when we know it does not even amount to the love that they give to the sons they wish we were.

Hmoob daughters know best, that we are never completely our parents’. We will go when we are married. We will become a part of someone else’s family.

I am rejecting this idea to say that I will always be a part of my family, and someone who cannot respect this does not deserve my love. I reject this idea because my brothers will still need me, my parents will still need me, and I will still need them.

Tonight, I should be home.

I am a homebody. Every time I leave home to go back to the town where I am pursuing my studies, I feel my heart break. I feel the distance between my heart and my soul when I leave. I hear my youngest brother saying my name, asking to go with. I see the way that he waves goodbye to me through the window in our living room. I see the way he doesn’t leave the window until my car is out sight.

I hear the way my mom asks me when I am leaving, the moment I step foot into the house. I hear the way she tells me not to worry about her as she misses another dose of her medication for depression.

I hear my brothers ask me to take them to the store, ask how to get rid of acne, how to do their taxes, how to apply for college, how to apply for jobs, how to interview.

Tonight, I should be home. But instead, I am crying.

I have always had to choose between my career, my future, and my family, as if there will always be a rift between the person I am supposed to be and the person I want to be. I am waiting for a day where I do not have to choose between the two.

My mom says to me when I leave, “Mus kawm ntawv kom zoo nawb mog, txhob txhawj txoj peb.” I do well in my studies. It is not my studies I am worried about. It is how much life I will have missed out when my studies are done, how many birthdays I will have missed, graduations I will miss, family talks, tears, laughter, smiles because of the military, because of school, because of work, because of weather, because of the distance between me and my heart and home.

I will be home soon again.

My parents have never agreed with the decisions I have made in my life and they have been vocal about it. My parents have never voiced their support for my future, for my current studies, but they have always been there. I know I will make myself proud. To be the person I want to be for myself, my brothers, my parents, my Hmoob community. I have succeeded thus far, I will continue to.

(Nayyirah Waheed)