In Portland, the rain is just a cold spit in the eye,
and the "Rose City" feels less like a home and more like a battleground.
I’m standing in the kitchen, feeling the weight of expectation on my shoulders,
watching the world through a window my mother cleans
with the fervor of a woman trying to keep everything as she believes it should be.
My old man is leaning over his eggs,
his familiar hat sitting on the table.
He hears the news and mutters his usual commentary.
He believes he’s upholding a way of life,
a set of values he thinks defines a true citizen.
He looks at me and sees a "legacy,"
a blonde-haired blueprint for a future he can understand and control.
He doesn’t see the girl who’s been exploring her own identity,
the girl whose heart holds experiences he couldn't comprehend
with all his carefully constructed boundaries.
He thinks I want to join the Teams to continue his "heritage."
He thinks the Navy SEALs represent his ideals.
He’s wrong.
I don’t want the Trident to be a symbol for his version of the world.
I want the Trident because I want to prove my own strength and capability.
I want to be able to stand on my own two feet
so I never have to feel as small as he makes me feel at dinner.
Outside, they’re dealing with the complexities of the world,
people facing difficult situations,
but to my mother, it's just the expected order of things.
She’s humming a hymn, her focus on her own sense of rightness,
while I’m pushing my limits in the basement
until the floorboards seem to resonate with the tension between us.
I am exploring my identity, I am frustrated, and I am training for a future
they don't fully understand.
While they’re concerned with "purity,"
I’m learning how to endure and overcome challenges.
While they’re vocal about their beliefs,
I’m building my resilience against the pressures they exert
until I can stand firm in my own truth.
They want a daughter who fits neatly into their mold.
Instead, they’re getting someone forged by different fires.
I am a person in training, shaping my own destiny,
and once I gain that inner strength,
once I am in control of my own path,
I’m never coming back to this house of stifling expectations.
Let them hold onto their rigid views.
I’m learning how to navigate around them.
I’m learning how to build my own world from within.
**** it up, Buttercup.
The change isn’t coming.
I’m already here, becoming who I am.
Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 8:56 PM UTC
In Portland, the rain is just a cold spit in the eye,
and the "Rose City" feels less like a home and more like a battleground.
I’m standing in the kitchen, feeling the weight of expectation on my shoulders,
watching the world through a window my mother cleans
with the fervor of a woman trying to keep everything as she believes it should be.
My old man is leaning over his eggs,
his familiar hat sitting on the table.
He hears the news and mutters his usual commentary.
He believes he’s upholding a way of life,
a set of values he thinks defines a true citizen.
He looks at me and sees a "legacy,"
a blonde-haired blueprint for a future he can understand and control.
He doesn’t see the girl who’s been exploring her own identity,
the girl whose heart holds experiences he couldn't comprehend
with all his carefully constructed boundaries.
He thinks I want to join the Teams to continue his "heritage."
He thinks the Navy SEALs represent his ideals.
He’s wrong.
I don’t want the Trident to be a symbol for his version of the world.
I want the Trident because I want to prove my own strength and capability.
I want to be able to stand on my own two feet
so I never have to feel as small as he makes me feel at dinner.
Outside, they’re dealing with the complexities of the world,
people facing difficult situations,
but to my mother, it's just the expected order of things.
She’s humming a hymn, her focus on her own sense of rightness,
while I’m pushing my limits in the basement
until the floorboards seem to resonate with the tension between us.
I am exploring my identity, I am frustrated, and I am training for a future
they don't fully understand.
While they’re concerned with "purity,"
I’m learning how to endure and overcome challenges.
While they’re vocal about their beliefs,
I’m building my resilience against the pressures they exert
until I can stand firm in my own truth.
They want a daughter who fits neatly into their mold.
Instead, they’re getting someone forged by different fires.
I am a person in training, shaping my own destiny,
and once I gain that inner strength,
once I am in control of my own path,
I’m never coming back to this house of stifling expectations.
Let them hold onto their rigid views.
I’m learning how to navigate around them.
I’m learning how to build my own world from within.
**** it up, Buttercup.
The change isn’t coming.
I’m already here, becoming who I am.
Request permission to use this poem