In the real world, my life was far from being perfect. Growing up in a home rife with family violence, any moments of joy was short-lived and followed up with beatings by my dad, shaming from my older siblings, bullying at school or disppapproval from my mom. Thus, perhaps watching the feel-good 30 minute sitcoms with the happy endings was my form of escape from the painful reminder that my days would often end in tears, pain and loneliness. The paradox was that I wanted my parents to see me as the creative, sensitive and intelligent little boy, but I also wanted to be invisible from the hurt, abuse and neglect.
At a tender age of seven years old, my parents decided it was time for our family to move from our cozy two bedroom house in East Vancouver to a bigger one in the more affluent neighborhood of North Burnaby. In my short while living in East Van, I made some amazing best friends and still remember the playdates with Anna, Amy, Galton and Suzanna. I was extremely heartbroken after learning we were going to move and I would have to say goodbye to my closest friends.
Control is an illusion created by our fears. When we try to control the people around us, we are giving in to our deepest fears.