Petite

5 - Sophia Tiwa Animashaun

In the dimly lit room, I stared at my laptop screen, my eyes squinting as if trying to see beyond the digital realm. I finally found the perfect song and with a decisive click, I dragged it to where it belonged. Building my own DJ booth and setting up the right equipment had been a labor of love, years in the making. Money was no obstacle, but it seemed like my father's disapproval was an insurmountable mountain.

Mom and my brother Daniel had been my biggest cheerleaders, supporting my passion for music and DJing, but my father remained an enigma of resistance. Why he despised the idea of me pursuing my dreams eluded me, and he'd go to absurd lengths to steer me away from my true path.

One time, he even went so far as to format my laptop and filled it with a library of books he thought I should read. It was infuriating, to say the least, but my determination was unshaken. Within a week, I defiantly loaded my laptop with all the music and mixing apps I could find.

It wasn't as if I was neglecting my studies; on the contrary, I was a top-notch student. But for some reason, that never mattered to my father. Despite proving myself time and again, he remained stubborn in his disapproval, a relentless critic of how I chose to spend my time.

It wasn't that my father was old-fashioned, not entirely. He possessed a progressive mindset in many ways, yet when it came to my dreams, he clung to conservative ideals that seemed to hold me back. His unpredictable reactions were a mystery that puzzled me endlessly.

But I refused to let his negativity define me. He could criticize and undermine all he wanted, yet I wouldn't be swayed. His doubts fueled my determination to succeed even more. I yearned for an international career as a DJ, sharing my passion for music with the world, but my own self-doubt was an invisible barrier that held me back.

Growing up, my family believed in self-reliance, urging us to fix our problems before seeking help. I had tried everything within my power to boost my self-esteem, but it remained elusive, just like my father's approval.

I still remembered the painful struggle with body image, eating spoonfuls of food in a futile attempt to gain weight. It felt like torture, a relentless pursuit that yielded no results. Despite my efforts, I remained trapped in an uncomfortable, baggy attire, covering up my true self. I longed to dress in feminine clothes, to feel confident in bodycon gowns, and embrace my curves.

But life had a way of contradicting my desires. My father's approval wasn't the only thing I craved; I yearned for the confidence to be unapologetically me. Instead, I found myself stuck in the crossroads of self-discovery and familial expectations.

It wasn't just my parents' issues that weighed on me, but their failing marriage haunted my memories. Happiness seemed an elusive concept for them, a distant dream I yearned to see come true. Sometimes, I couldn't help but hope for the day when my mother would find the strength to file for a divorce. Perhaps then, we could all find our true selves amidst the shattered fragments of our family, starting anew and embracing the paths that truly set us free.