A Room of My Own

After high school, homebody me chose a college two thousand miles away from home. My parents roared in anger, "Just because of a room?" Yes. As the only daughter of a middle-class family with three houses. I grew to the age of eighteen without ever having a room of my own. 1 At my eighteenth birthday party, I made a loud wish in front of all our relatives and friends. "I want a small room of my own." The venue went quiet. My relatives looked at us in disbelief. "She doesn't have her own room? A girl this big needs her privacy." "She's an only child! Even if they have a two-bedroom apartment, they could partition the living room to make a third bedroom." I ignored my parents' instantly darkening faces and smiled generously. "That's right, I don't have my own room." My dad forced a strained smile. "She's just joking. She's our only daughter, and we have three houses. How could she not have a room?" My mom winked at me frantically. "Emma is just teasing us. Quick, make another wish." I sighed inwardly and said solemnly, "Mom, Dad, I'm eighteen now. I really want my own independent space." The room fell dead silent again. The relatives exchanged glances and looked at my parents with complex expressions. Both of my parents had comfortable government jobs. To the outside world, they were parents who spoiled their daughter rotten. How could they not have a room for their own flesh and blood? My grandma suddenly started crying. "It's my fault. I took up my granddaughter's room. I'm so old, I've just become a burden to my kids." I felt a flash of guilt. Even though my grandma had always been distant with me, we had lived in the same room for over a decade. I wasn't completely devoid of affection for her. My actions today were a bit extreme. While I was hesitating, a heavy slap landed on my face. My dad stood there, hand raised, panting heavily. "You ungrateful brat. You haven't even achieved anything yet, and you're already discarding your grandma." My mom frantically tried to stop my dad, then checked my face with concern. "Emma, we can talk about this at home. Do you really think we wouldn't agree to it?" I stood there, stunned. Actually, I had a room of my own for a short time. But when I was six, my grandpa passed away, and my grandma moved in with us from the countryside. We lived in a two-bedroom apartment. My parents had one room, and Grandma had to share the other with me. I wanted my own room and protested from the time I was six until today. But every time I brought it up, they just laughed it off. When they got annoyed, they would brush me off: "You and your grandma are both girls. What's the big deal? Besides, if you don't have enough space for your things, we can just install more shelves." But I needed an independent space! A room that belonged only to me! Under the heavy academic pressure of high school, I needed a place to decompress. I wanted a room filled with things I loved, not my grandma's supplements and drab, dusty clothes. Grandma snored in her sleep and ground her teeth. She woke up constantly during the night. I rarely got a good night's sleep and would doze off during the day. During the three days of my SAT exams, my uncle finally took her away. 2 I thought everything was over and I could finally take a breather. Just as I was excitedly planning how to decorate my room and inviting classmates over to see it... Grandma was sent right back. Because my exams were over. My joy was for nothing. I had even humbly suggested to my parents before: I could set up a small partition by the bathroom, the kitchen, or the balcony. As long as it was a private space, even if it was cramped or smelled a little, I didn't care. My mom had looked at me like I was a senseless child and scolded me: "You're the apple of our eye! How could you sleep in a bathroom or kitchen? We'd be a laughingstock." My dad had chuckled and patted my head: "Silly girl. If my colleagues found out that a respectable school administrator made his daughter sleep by the bathroom, they'd drown me in spit." It was precisely because I knew protesting was useless that I decided to burn my bridges today. I hoped my parents would be swayed by the relatives' gossip and finally get me a small room. More than that, I wanted to remind them that I was eighteen. An adult. Not a child anymore. I needed a physically private space. Was that really such a delusional demand? The restaurant was in an uproar. My dad glared at me with bloodshot eyes. It seemed that one slap wasn't enough to vent his anger. My mom and a crowd of guests held him back, trying to persuade him. I couldn't hear anything clearly. My face burned with pain. I covered my face and ran out of the restaurant. The evening breeze cleared my chaotic, sad mind a bit. The city lights glowed along the street, but my heart felt entirely empty. My cousin Brittany, who I had never been close with, sent me a text: [When we were little, I used to envy you. Both your parents have stable state jobs, unlike my parents who bust their asses at a street stand just to feed and clothe me.] It was true. Growing up, I had the newest dresses and went to the best tutoring centers. When it came to my education and lifestyle, my parents never seemed stingy. When peers complained about sharing snacks and toys with siblings, I used to feel lucky to be an only child—my parents' one and only treasure. So, regarding not having my own room, I even consoled myself that my parents probably had their own considerations. After all, with their energy and finances, getting me a room would have been incredibly easy. I didn't reply. Brittany's messages continued: [But I stopped envying you a long time ago. Want to know why?] I turned off my phone, ignoring her attempt to kick me while I was down. I sat on a bridge, staring down at the murky river water in the dark. It was just as murky as my parents' love for me. I didn't know how much time had passed, but police sirens suddenly wailed in my ears. I was so deep in thought that I hadn't realized a crowd had gathered on the other side of the bridge. My mom stood at the front of the crowd, screaming: "Emma! We actually decided to buy a new house a long time ago, we just hadn't told you yet! Please come down, okay?" My dad's eyes were red, and he was slapping his own face frantically: "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have hit you! I acted on impulse!" I looked down at myself. I was sitting so close to the edge of the bridge that one slip of the leg and I would have fallen in. It was a huge misunderstanding. I apologized to the police and quickly got off the bridge. My parents hugged me tightly, treating me like a precious, lost treasure they had finally found. 3 "Emma, you are our most precious baby." "Yes, we'll go put a down payment on a new house tomorrow." I didn't explain. If I could really get my own room out of this, I'd let them misunderstand just this once. Aside from the room issue, they truly were impeccable parents in every other aspect. My parents took me out for another meal. It was a spicy hot pot place I loved. Neither of my parents could handle spice, but they watched me eat with gentle smiles. One poured my drink, the other wiped my mouth. We looked like the most loving family of three, and I was the absolute center of it. A group of girls at the next table looked at me with envy. At that moment, I was basking in my parents' total, undivided love for their only daughter. Filled with a hard-won sense of satisfaction and a bit of competitiveness, I finally replied to Brittany: [My parents decided to buy a new house. Keep envying me.] Brittany didn't reply for a long time. I thought I had won, and that she was ashamed of what she had said. I even regretted being so impulsive today and making my parents lose face. They clearly were already planning to buy a house; it wasn't like they never considered me. Grandma was picked up by my uncle that night, but her clothes and daily necessities were still there. I knew she would continue living with us. But that was fine. I could endure it a little longer. After all, I had endured it for years, and dawn was just around the corner. I imagined myself in my little room for the first time. Binge-watching shows, drinking cola, and laughing out loud without a care in the world. I could throw my trash wherever I wanted, knowing I'd just clean it up the next morning. I could wear a tank top and prop my feet up on the desk without worrying about exposing myself. I could dig out the love notes from high school boys hidden at the bottom of my drawer and read them out loud without fear. When we went house hunting the next day, I was even more excited than my parents. They found a gated community that was perfect for retirement. It had great amenities and a quiet environment. But because it was a new development with reasonable prices and a great location, properties were selling out fast. By the time we looked, there were only a few three-bedroom and two-bedroom units left. There was one three-bedroom unit on a lower floor. The rooms were spacious. The only downside was the layout, which meant the natural light wasn't great. I carefully watched my parents' faces. When I saw no obvious signs of dissatisfaction, I let out a sigh of relief. I happily spun around in the smallest bedroom. I imagined my bed here, a large clothing rack for my favorite dresses, without having to worry about Grandma's clothes mixing in and making it look out of place. I could display my collectibles on the shelves without worrying that Grandma's failing eyesight would knock them over. The real estate agent held the contract: "Look how much she loves it! You guys should lock it down now." My parents exchanged a glance and waved their hands. "We left in a hurry this morning and forgot our checkbook. We'll come back to sign this afternoon." 4 After looking at the house, a message popped up in my high school group chat. The college application portal was open. My dad smiled and asked, "Your grades are good enough for the top state university here. You could even come home on weekends." My mom held my hand, "Yeah. You've never left my side your whole life. I really couldn't bear to let you go." I leaned into my mom's embrace. "I'm a total mommy's girl and daddy's girl. I told you I'd never go to a college more than twenty miles away." My parents looked at each other and laughed, sounding hearty and proud. I knew we were all completely content today. Any past grievances had vanished into thin air. After all, what parent and child hold grudges overnight? That evening, I was scrolling through my phone when I saw a new post from the real estate agent: [Another unit sold in Building 5! So happy.] My hand suddenly froze. Building 5 was all large two-bedroom units. The agent had explicitly pointed that out. When we were viewing the houses, the agent, likely wanting to build his network, had also asked for my Instagram. My parents had been whispering by the doorway discussing the floor plan at the time and hadn't noticed. His post was from around 3 or 4 PM, right when my parents went back to pay the deposit. I had originally wanted to go with them, but my mom pinched my cheek: "Look how delicate your skin is. You shouldn't be out in that harsh sun." I had acted spoiled and asked them to bring me back some ice cream. Because she didn't know which flavor I wanted, my mom had bought every single flavor available. I had even happily posted a picture on Instagram with the caption: [I love my mom and dad the most.] I steadied my racing heart: What if I misheard or misremembered? I messaged the agent to casually say hi. The agent was in a great mood and replied quickly. "Your dad picked a great master bedroom for you guys! You locals really know how to spoil your daughters. Even though it's only a two-bedroom, it'll be super comfortable for a family of three like yours." My heart sank straight down. My mind went entirely blank. Brittany's message came through right at that moment: [Years ago, your mom urged my mom to have another kid to get a son, and that's when I stopped envying you.] [I'm a true only child. You're just a 'circumstantial' only child. I'm not showing off, I just wanted you to see the truth. But clearly, you're pretty dense.] It wasn't like this. I shook my head desperately. What if Grandma wasn't planning to live with us anymore? Maybe she had other plans? Clinging to that final shred of hope, I walked out of my room step by step. My parents were sitting on the couch, punching numbers into a calculator. "The money from selling this place will cover the balance for the new one." "The new place is move-in ready, we won't even need to buy furniture." When they saw me, they immediately waved me over. "Emma, come help us with the math. You're young and quick." I tried to use my most normal, calmest voice to ask: "Is Grandma still going to live with us?" 5 My dad didn't even look up as he answered casually: "Of course. I'm the eldest son. It's my responsibility to take care of her." My mom frowned slightly, but said nothing, continuing to calculate with her pen. Details I had previously ignored suddenly glared at me. My grandma had two sons. My mom used to complain about why Grandma didn't go live with my uncle. My dad would say: "My nephew is a growing boy. It's not convenient for him to share a space with my mom." And my mom never brought it up again. My mom wasn't the submissive type. She once threw a massive fit because my dad forgot to bring back a local souvenir from a business trip, forcing him to drive all the way back to buy it before she let it go. But ever since Grandma moved in, whenever my other uncle came over to ask for handouts, my dad just turned a blind eye. They rarely fought over their respective families anymore. They seemed to maintain a delicate balance between them. And I was the sacrificial bargaining chip to keep that peace. "Do I just not deserve my own room? Mom, Dad, it's not like our family can't afford it. Why does it always have to be me who compromises?" I could no longer suppress my grievances and yelled. After I yelled, my body shook, and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Faced with my breakdown and fury, my parents remained unusually calm. My dad shook his head and sighed: "So you found out." My mom grabbed a tissue to wipe my tears, scolding me gently: "Emma, why are you being so stubborn again? Once you go to college, you'll barely be home anyway. Why waste an entire room? Let me tell you, that three-bedroom had terrible natural light. No sunlight is bad for your health." "The two-bedroom unit is south-facing, and the layout is great. To be blunt, given your grandma's age... when she passes, it'll still just be your room." My mom kept rambling, but I only caught one phrase. Why waste an entire room. "So in your hearts, because I'm a daughter who will eventually marry and leave, I'm an outsider. I don't deserve a room, and keeping a room for me is a waste. If I were a boy, would you have given me my own room?" The room was dead silent. I finally understood Brittany's words. Heh, 'circumstantial only child'. How ironic. My identity as an only child, which I had been so proud of, was merely a product of their circumstances. Both my parents were tenured state employees; they couldn't risk their careers by trying for a son. Even though I was their only daughter, they still harbored a "phantom son" in their hearts. 6 My parents finally put down the calculator and pen. My dad reacted first, carrying the embarrassment and anger of having his true thoughts exposed: "You ungrateful daughter! We raised you all these years just so you could interrogate us?" "Girls in poor areas don't even get to go to school and have to marry early to pay off family debts. You're sitting here being picky? We really spoiled you." My dad was panting heavily after his outburst. My mom poured him some water while glaring at me reproachfully: "Emma, why are you digging yourself into a hole again?" "Mom, you pulled a lot of strings to get my cousin into that good school district, didn't you? So your nephew could go to a top high school." "Dad, I heard my other cousin is going to an expensive private college. Are you footing the bill for that astronomical tuition?" My parents' faces showed a flash of unnatural guilt, which quickly morphed into anger. "Your uncle only has one son! His future is important!" "Your cousin is the only male heir to our family line. In the future, he'll be your family backing. Stop with the passive-aggressive tone!" I laughed. I laughed so hard I doubled over, tears smearing my face. I had personally shattered the self-righteous illusion I held: that I was the beloved, pampered only child. My mom worriedly grabbed my dad's arm. "What's wrong with our daughter?" My dad scoffed coldly, "It's all your fault for spoiling her. Girls should just be raised casually." My mom shot back: "Why don't you casually raise your useless nephew? He didn't even get into a public university." My dad retorted: "And how great is your brother's son? Failing classes in elementary school!" They started arguing, completely ignoring that I had gone back to my room. Maybe having a massive blowup actually calmed my emotions. I opened my laptop and changed all my college applications to universities on the East Coast, two thousand miles away. If there's no place for me here, I'll find a place for myself elsewhere. That night, my parents knocked on my door to call me for dinner, acting like nothing had happened. Noticing their slightly unnatural gazes, I looked at my favorite dishes on the table and screamed in excitement just like I always did, giving them all the emotional validation they craved. "Wow, dinner looks amazing! You guys are like master chefs. Are we celebrating our new house?" My parents were very pleased with my "forgiving" attitude. They exchanged a smile and whispered: "See, I told you. What parent and child hold grudges overnight? It's just a kid throwing a tantrum. She's fine now." "Yes, yes. This is our sweet little girl." My dad, having had a bit of wine, looked at me with loving eyes: "Emma, when you go to college, come home for dinner every weekend. Dad will cook your favorites." My mom poured tea, smiling and shaking her head: "Look at you spoiling her. She's going to stick to me like glue." I pretended to be too busy eating to talk, just nodding enthusiastically. "Look at her, all grown up and still acting like a kid. It's all because you spoil her." "She's our only baby, of course we're going to spoil her!" I laughed along with them, looking completely carefree. 7 Our family dynamic seemed closer than ever before. Because of my excellent SAT scores, my parents' colleagues were constantly inviting our family of three to dinner. The excuse was to have them share their parenting secrets. My dad's school issued a commendation letter, and my mom's department gave her a bonus. My dad was beaming with pride, and my mom looked ten years younger. Right up until the night before the acceptance letters were due, I was still being dragged to dinner parties. My dad's best friend had a bit too much to drink and became talkative. "I always said having a daughter is better! She goes to college locally, marries locally, and when the parents get sick, it's easy for her to take care of them. Unlike my brat, he's so wild, insisting on going to a school a thousand miles away." "Statistically, you usually stay where you go to college. When I'm old, no one will take care of me. Ah, daughters really are more caring." My dad waved his hand dismissively, but the smugness in his eyes was overflowing: "Not true, sons and daughters are equally caring." My mom peeled a shrimp for me while sneaking glances at my aunt sitting across the table. It was Brittany's mom. "Did you hear about my cousin? She actually let her only daughter go to Boston for college! She's probably going to marry someone out there. Both she and her husband have high blood pressure. If something happens to them, what are those two old folks going to do? Our Emma is much better. She's going to be mommy and daddy's little girl forever." She reached over and affectionately pinched my nose. My mom wasn't quiet, and the whole table heard her. Especially my aunt, whose face turned incredibly sour. My dad gently scolded my mom: "You talk too much. Come on, let's drink." Brittany, who happened to be sitting next to my aunt, let out a cold laugh. She suddenly stood up and raised her glass to me. "You'll be my junior soon. Aren't you going to toast with me?" My mom turned her slow, bewildered gaze toward me. I knew I couldn't hide it anymore, and I didn't want to. I said calmly, "I applied to the University of Michigan. I'm pretty sure I got in." My mom swatted my arm. "You and your cousin are just messing with us. Everyone knows you cling to your mom and dad the most." My dad laughed too. "Silly girl, you wouldn't be able to stand the freezing winters out there." The dinner continued, and people kept joking, but the atmosphere was noticeably less lively. Especially my parents, who kept zoning out. We finally made it through the dinner. On the ride home, my dad spoke up first. "Emma, you applied to the local state university, right?" My mom shot my dad a glare. "Our Emma is the most obedient, don't you know that?" They both looked at me simultaneously. Their eyes held expectation and a sliver of... Anxiety. I blinked. "I won't let you down." I'll just make you incredibly angry. They both breathed a sigh of relief and started talking about picking a good date to move into the new house. The next morning, the mail carrier delivered my college acceptance letter.

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