Just another conversation

Saturday night. The only time when the four of us get to sit around the dinner table and speak. No family senti or anything, jus that sometimes it is nice to see that the four chairs bought for the purpose of the table are actually put to use.

This time, the topic was my admission...
Dad: "When you get there, immediately get some kind of aid, ok?"
Mom: "So, you are really gonna go? What will I do without you?"
Me: "I will try my best. But aid in my field is quite limited."
Bro: "Then why the hell did you apply to that field? What is wrong with the course you are studying now? They give plenty of aid for that. Why couldn't you have just applied there?"
Me: "What is the point of doing that? I have anyway decided not to continue in that line. Why can't I study something that will help me in the kind of job I'm looking for?"
Bro: "What makes you think the point of you studying further is for the purpose of you earning? It is simply to satisfy you that we are sending you there. You wanted to study, so go study. Why do you think we are gonna look to you for support?" (FYI, bro, the "we" who are sending me to study does not include you. So butt out. Of course I didn't tell this openly, wish I had...)
Mom: "You can just take the job you have in hand, can't you?"
Dad: "Throw it into the dustbin. That is not at all a good job."
Me: "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. I don't want to have this conversation. I'm leaving."
Dad: "Pah! There she goes again."
Me: "And I'm definitely not gonna sit around watching you nod your head for whatever nonsense your son throws at me. There has got to be a limit, dad."
Bro: "All you girls learn this well!"
Mom: "Why do you both always keep irritating? If it is not me, it is her. Don't you all have something better to do?"

I walk away from there, towards my room. I can hear the men of the house laughing away about something else. The topic had changed so fast. It didn't matter to them what I had just done. They didn't care what I felt. I am not an individual begging for an equal opportunity to show that I can excel. I am someone's daughter, hence an embodiment of their genetic codes, a manifestation of their dreams, a mannequin well decorated that can be shown off to the world. I am someone's sister, assumed to be living in his shadow. I am, after all, a woman to them.

So what am I to me?