I Will No Longer Be a Martyr To My Parents Because They Were Never Gods

I will no longer be a martyr to my parents because they were never gods. If I die like they want me too I’ll never be a saint, if I hallowed out my flesh like they asked I’d never be given a stained glass window monument in a church and I’d simply suffer for the sake of validation. As I’m growing up the question “Why am I not good enough?” Turns into.. “Are they good enough for me?” I am not merciful or have boundless unconditional love, all I have are my two hands and feet and an aching, longing, broken heart. The Gods I worship surround me and speak to me encouragement as I let go of my parents. No kind loving natured being has told me to hold on to this pain or that I didn’t love hard enough, because I almost gave up every ounce of my love to you. Every inch of my sanity and livelihood was devoted to an unfulfilling, meaningless cause. My eternal soul may love you in some unconditional way but my humble human body can’t endure any more pain. My only human duty is to love my parents the same way they loved me.