Part Five
To be honest, I don’t think I really understand her. I don’t understand most people in the world. People are hypocritical. They hide things. And I’m not good at analyzing or making sense of people who contradict themselves. It seems like if I need to understand someone, I require some sort of templated, tangible framework to try to grasp certain dimensions of personality. It feels anti-human. I don’t really understand her, but I know how she makes me feel.
When I first met Mrs. Shinohara, she didn’t leave me with a strong impression. I just remember she came to help Daiga move into the townhouse I lived in junior year. She brought some food. She seemed quiet and introverted. But later, through our interactions, I realized she could be irritable, avoid responsibility, act like she was doing important things, but when you look at the results, you could tell none of it required that much preparation. She liked to find a sense of fulfillment in the role of a housewife, but she was also easily unsettled when her younger son made sharp, critical comments implying she hadn’t done enough. She didn’t fully show this side of herself until November. It almost felt like I was locked in her home, insulted and tormented by her younger son, with the tacit approval of her husband. That description is extremely subjective, but it was also real. I felt like I was back in childhood again, suddenly unable to communicate properly.
She goes to quite some extent into spoiling her younger son by defending him against basically anything. He’s only a few years younger than us, almost 30, yet he acts like he’s still 16, instigating problems, abusing the favoritism. A while back I sent Mrs.Shinohara my screenplay for her to read, without my permission, she shared it with her younger son, only to inform me after, I said it was okay. Her younger son and his girlfriend then sent me a few pages of feedback, consisting of comments criticizing me for “stereotyping” people for a scene I wrote from my observations on Bart. They said it was too “subjective”, well guess what, screenplays are human, emotional, personal, and yes, highly subjective. Make your own if you think you can do better. The tone was like a superior giving a scolding. They tore it apart, saying I was projecting and misjudging people. Later, Izumi said she hadn’t expected that reaction and apologized, but she quickly brushed it off by saying, “Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion.”
Well, I have an opinion too about you and your son Ryo. You’re welcome to receive it. And by the way, I didn’t mind posting this publicly.
You have no patience with children. You shout and snap and explode at any moment. Around you, I constantly felt like I was in some kind of competitive dynamic between women. It was as if who cooked better mattered, as if how to use the kitchen became an issue. You acted like your knowledge gave you the right to reclaim confidence and assert authority. I thought this was entirely my own decision to make, but as long as I was living in that house, apparently I couldn’t decide anything. To be honest, I even think you’re fake. Sorry, I don’t care what I just said. I used to like and respect you, but your behavior, your choices, especially after knowing I was struggling with depression and still forcing me to come out for family meals and fake smiles in group photos, made it all clear. You wanted to post those photos to show off a harmonious family to your so-called housewife friends. You are not kind. You are fake to your core. I now see that very clearly. I’ve completely lost all respect for you. But I believe you already knew that before I left.
Part Six
I used to really like her. I still do, in a way. But at this point, I can’t respect her anymore. During my junior year, when I first got together with Daiga, I went to his house the first Thanksgiving we spent together. Izumi-san was so gentle, cheerful, and curious. When she saw me smiling, she seemed intrigued by everything about me, but also slightly cautious, like she didn’t want to scare me off. Turns out she was right. I was the kind of snake that’s easily startled.
I wasn’t nervous because she was my boyfriend’s mother. I was nervous because I was afraid of my own mother and she was the closest thing to it yet far. When interacting with women I have positive feelings toward, I often both long to be liked and accepted, and at the same time care too much about their opinions. I want their approval. But when they disapprove of me, criticize me, or even publicly humiliate me, I tend to hold back for a long time until I explode. I think the fact that I liked Izumi-san, even just a little, is why I tolerated her for so long. She was lovely. She was always curious about what I was cooking, what I was watching. She laughed at my jokes. I thought how nice, maybe I can finally have a healthy friendship with an older woman.
In 2020, when I was sent to the hospital by ambulance, I was in Akron, Ohio, at their house. She took care of me for a while afterward. I helped with chores. During my recovery, I tried to stay busy and take my mind off things. At the time, I wasn’t allowed to live alone. For more than half a year after that, I wasn’t allowed to live independently. In the second half of 2019, I had slipped into severe depression. The medication from the hospital wasn’t helping. I kept vomiting and couldn’t get out of bed. My mom was worried, but she never stopped being harsh and cutting. On my birthday, she asked if I wanted to celebrate. I didn’t even know if I’d survive.I bought a plane ticket and flew back to see Daiga, hoping that a change of environment might help. I honestly don’t remember how I managed to get on the plane. Ever since that trip, I’ve had a fear of flying.
After that, I would talk to her about almost everything, big or small. She gave me advice. Later, she even started asking for mine. I used to send some of my mail to her house. She would take pictures and ask if I needed them. Later, after Daiga and I broke up and I got together with my ex in Chicago, I thought she should meet him too. I introduced them. My ex thought it was weird, but to me it felt perfectly natural. When we left, I cried. I thought I’d never get the chance to be part of her family again. I never expected things would turn out like this. She seemed to care about me, to like me, to be curious about me. But when it came to what her kids wanted, their free will, their individuality, she had little patience. She wasn’t willing to listen. She didn’t seem to treat them as autonomous people. It was more like they were playmates in a role-playing game she directed, or subordinates expected to follow orders.
She wanted her children to speak the way she liked, use a specific tone, and interact with each other in certain manners. Things that shouldn’t be regulated were somehow regulated. And when I became part of the family, I was subjected to the same treatment. She felt guilty. She didn’t want to give me “special treatment.” It’s not, it’s about recognizing differences between people and adjusting accordingly.
As I lay on Ryo’s childhood bed, I realized this must have been what Daiga and Mion felt growing up. Suffocating. Voiceless. Unheard. I used to think their family was warm and loving, nothing like the chaos of mine. But eventually, I saw it clearly. They avoided every conflict that should have been addressed. What was left was a forced, rigid, polite version of a household that felt emotionally cold to the children but somehow “complete” to the father. I don’t know which is worse.
Part Seven
We are children, not idiots. We are underage. We are adolescents. But we are not mentally slow. We know what we want. We just aren’t sure if it’s allowed. I don’t even know if “unsure” is the right word. I think we actually know very clearly what we like, what we hate, what we want, and what we reject. Rather than uncertainty, maybe it’s fear that our wants and needs won’t be accepted by the outside world. Like how I liked girls, how I liked to read, how I didn’t like school, how I hated systems and institutions. It’s the formative years, we’re supposed to learn to make choices, understand our preferences, learn to strategize. Experimentation is necessary. Mistakes are part of learning. Nothing should be off-limits. If the future world and society will already deny us so many things, what’s the rush?
What I cannot accept and will never accept is the way Izumi systematically castrated Daiga and Mion’s sense of self. Sometimes she was gentle. Sometimes strict. Sometimes she disguised her control in kindness. Sometimes she was outright cutting and harsh. She used all sorts of gentle yet unreasonable excuses to suppress Daiga and Mion's egos. Thankfully, Ryo pushed back. It cost him energy, it drained him, but at least he protected his sense of self. Preserving your ego is not enough. If you truly want to become the person you were meant to be, you have to give yourself the time and space to keep trying. To keep exploring. That’s how you’ll discover the way of life that fits you best. You’ll become unique, independent, free, authentic. You’ll become comfortable and happy. Fewer things will bother you.
Sounds easy enough, the reason many people can’t do it is because they carry preconceived ideas about what the right path should be. They think it has to fall into a familiar category or something they’ve seen before.The truth is, it’s never how you think it’d pan out.
Part Eight
Many things could have be resolved through communication, however, even with full understanding, they’re unwilling to compromise. “This is just how we are.” Well, this is just how I am too. Deal with it. Or don’t. It doesn’t really affect me anymore.
