As a young girl,
I was taught that I only needed 3 things in life to be happy.
First, I needed a husband. I needed his love and I needed him to take care of me. I also needed to make him happy so that he would never leave me.
Second, I needed a family. I was told having a family would be the greatest joy I’d ever experience and would keep me satisfied for the rest of my life.
Third, I needed a beautiful home that other people envied.
Well..
I grew up.
I experienced all these things
but yet,
I am more unhappy now than I have ever been.
My home feels less like a home,
and more like a prison.
because I am bound to it.
I am bound to that home,  
simply because I am a woman and this is what women do, right?
Because my gender defines me and confines me to this one lifestyle.
After all,
this is what my mother and her mother did,
and they seemed content.
But why should this be it?
I don’t even know who I am!
Ask me what I do,
I’ll tell you
“nothing, I’m just a housewife”.
Ask me about myself,
and I’ll tell you about my family.
because I am not my own person.
I belong to the stigma that my gender should define who I am
and put boundaries on my capabilities.
That I am limited to certain tasks
and I cannot be anything more than I am expected to be.
I have created this illusion that I am satisfied
when I am not.
I am disappointed and I’m wondering if this is it.
Is this really what I am made for?
My life is like clockwork.
Everyday I go through the routines,
over and over,
silently praying for the day when I am free to be whomever I wish.
But for now,
I am nothing.
I am only a housewife.