She was the third daughter born of her parents’ marriage. Her father, a man of firm character who sometimes turned harsh, often used a belt or a thin broom to discipline his child. Such punishments usually landed on her thighs or legs. In their family, her father was a dominant figure who held full control over everything. On the other hand, her mother was a woman of extraordinary resilience, who never once scolded her children, even though their circumstances were often difficult.

Her eldest sibling, though strict and firm like their father, cared deeply for his younger siblings. That care was always felt, even if he rarely expressed it in words. Meanwhile, her second sibling—born only a few months before her—grew into a confident, diligent individual who made friends easily. However, he often compared their situations, especially when there were differences in how their parents treated or provided for them.

Their family lived very simply. That simplicity was so palpable, becoming part of daily life and hard to forget. She remembered watching her friends participate in a band activity from behind the classroom window. She longed to join, but she knew her parents did not have enough money to pay for it. “It’s okay,” she thought, trying to convince herself that perhaps she just wasn’t talented in that area.

She also remembered when her father refused her request to go on a field trip, arguing that it wouldn’t affect her academic performance. Until her final year of elementary school, she wore her older siblings’ hand-me-down uniforms. The fabric had faded, as if telling stories of the long passage of time. Even for her exam ID photo, she could only afford a black-and-white print because there wasn’t enough money for a color photo.

There was one moment she would never forget—when she had to accept that her dinner consisted only of rice and salt. Her mother, hands calloused from hard work, fed her with love. Amid such difficulty, she asked herself, “Are we really this poor?”

Eventually, when her family decided to return to their hometown because there was no more fortune to be found in Jakarta, she learned to accept the situation. Living with limitations forced her to think and act like an adult long before her age required it. Even so, she grew into a child who excelled in her studies. Her achievements even surpassed those of her two older siblings.

Her parents saw great hope in her. This hope was often expressed by her father in words he repeated over and over, “You, my dear, will one day help your mother, your father, and your older siblings. You are the one we will rely on. There is no one else.”

When she decided to return to Jakarta on her own, living with her grandparents, her life began to change. She became independent, even starting in middle school. One by one, her dreams came true. She succeeded in entering one of Indonesia’s best public universities and later worked at top companies in her field.

The journey was not easy. One day, a coworker introduced her to a program called the “School of Reconciliation.” Without much thought, she immediately looked into it. The simple reason she gave during her first interview was, “I want to get to know myself more deeply.” And indeed, that was what happened.

Through the School of Reconciliation, she found a way to embrace her emotions, to love every part of herself just as she was, and to understand the patterns within her family. She learned to accept herself, to forgive, and even to “reparent” the little child inside her who had been neglected all this time.

This process changed her, slowly but surely. She, who used to anger easily and often hurt herself, now learned to be calm. She, who once blamed her parents for all their limitations, could now see them with love and understanding. And she, who once saw money as the root of all problems, now had a healthier relationship with it.

The school became a place of metamorphosis. She saw herself as a pupa gradually transforming into a butterfly. The process was full of struggle, but it bloomed beauty and strength within her.
 

Sukma Kencana Prentha 

Editor: Ari Budi S

Proofreader: Peter Heyes