I Didn’t Choose to Get Made

I Didn’t Choose to Get Made June 1, 2019
Source: pexels.com

The first time I watched Guardians of the Galaxy, I almost had to stop the movie when Rocket, the bionic, half-robotic, half-racoon sentient creature, screams in a drunken rage, “I didn’t ask to get made!”

I was sobbing and my heart broke in two at the same words I had wept silently in my heart.

Rocket screams this in angry tears at being called a freak because of the strangeness (and terrible torment) of his origin. He was the byproduct of scientific testing that left him half a metal creature, the only one of his kind, perpetually separated from and mocked by the people who made him. It isn’t until Rocket (with his single-worded tree creature Groot) is taken in by the ragtag Guardians of the Galaxy that he finds the unconditional love and companionship he’d always longed for. He was praised, loved, part of a team by being who he is, and is appreciated for it. That goes a long way.

I never planned on finding such parallels between my life and Rocket’s, but the older I’ve grown, and the more I’ve had to face the abusive demons of my upbringing (and that still plague me), the more my heart breaks for him.

I’ve never hidden the fact that I’ve been abused by family throughout my life (and unfortunately still am).

One of the consistent ways I still endure this abuse is through food. I could launch an entire series of posts on that, but the short of it is that my mother takes out her anger and hatred of me through my dietary restrictions (I can’t eat dairy, gluten, or eggs because of health reasons), and buys meals for everyone in the family except me.

This happened again tonight, and I was a hungry, emotional wreck.

And all I could think of was Rocket’s screaming voice:

I DIDN’T CHOOSE TO GET MADE.

I live with my mother. I pay for everything but rent on my own for the simple reason that rent is astronomical here and I can’t afford a place. Her going out of her way to cruelly remind me how much she hates having me here just reminds me of the reality of my existence. I didn’t choose to be conceived by two people who would have been better off halfway across the planet from each other before getting married. I didn’t choose to have to struggle to pay my bills and still keep myself feeling human. I didn’t choose to be a burden on my mother by taking up room in her house.

But then, light shone through the deafening haze of midnight. Friends reached out and offered me love, support, and cash so I wouldn’t go hungry tonight. My own Guardians of the Galaxy embraced me to their hearts and told me they loved me and that I didn’t deserve this treatment.

I may not have chosen to be made, but there are moments like tonight when I really am grateful for it.

 

 

 

Image source: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-looking-at-sea-while-sitting-on-beach-247314

 

About Jennifer Riley
Jennifer Riley is our co-leader. She’s an emotional writer, engulfing people in her tidal wave of life experiences and interpretations. She’s a bad Catholic, a good sinner, and a pernicious writer who tries to find who she is to herself and to God through her words. You can find her writer page at www.facebook.com/spectersink. You can read more about the author here.
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