CHAPTER THREE: The Price of Being Different by Multi®

The moment I stopped trying to fit in was the moment the real war began.

You’d think family would want to understand you — especially when you’re not trying to hurt anyone, just telling the truth. But in a toxic system, truth doesn’t sound like love.

It sounds like rebellion.

In their eyes, growth looked like betrayal.

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I didn’t want to fight them. I wanted peace. But in our house, peace came with conditions — silence, compliance, and pretending that shrinking yourself was some kind of holiness.

I stopped doing that.

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It began with questions. Why did we believe certain things? Why were some sins treated like death sentences, while others were quietly swept under the rug? Why did appearances matter more than honesty?

Then came the choices. I read books they didn’t approve of. Prayed in ways they didn’t understand. Created art they didn’t know how to label.

Every step toward myself felt like a step away from them.

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They didn’t punish me outright — that would have been too honest. Instead, it was little things.

The cold shoulders. The sarcastic “jokes” with a blade hidden in the punchline. The “accidental” exclusions from family plans.

Until the day it stopped being subtle.

I wasn’t invited.

Wasn’t consulted.

Wasn’t “family” in the way I used to be.

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That’s when it hit me:

They don’t hate you for doing wrong.

They hate you for doing different.