Before you read this, there is so much to talk about what I went through with my late aunt. Please read meticulously in order to understand my side of the story.
July 5 2009–exactly two weeks after the death of the lovely Michael Jackson– is the day my aunt passed away.
The day of her funeral may have been an emotional rollercoaster event for me, albeit I have been surreptitious about this from my own (maternal side of my) family after all these years.
With all my inner veracity, I am glad my aunt died.
Why?
Again, there is so much to talk about why I always hated my late aunt.
To begin with, my aunt is the worst single parent ever. Before I was born, she had a history of having one-night stands prior to her first and second pregnancies, hence the births of two out of three of my most hated abusive cousins ever.
Her first son is intellectually disabled and she raised him to get whatever he wants and that the world should revolve around him. That’s not how life fucking works! The way she raised her son has made him very abusive to me. Every time he comes over to my childhood home, he would physically abuse me over small things and then hit me afterwards. He would even curse at me multiple times for no reason at all. In addition, her son forced me to stand by the front door just to open it for him after he went out, in which it interfered with my homework time. He literally pulled me out of my homework just to open the fucking door for him as he forced me to wait for him and do nothing! Afterwards, whenever he didn’t see me by the front door, he would attack me just for not doing what he said while I was trying to do some homework. That’s how much I hated my aunt’s mentally disabled son growing up. She turned him into an abusive and demanding toxic adult that still wants to get things his way and that still believes the world revolves around him!
Her daughter, her second-born, used to be close to me ever since infancy. It wasn’t until when she turned eighteen, she followed her mom’s footsteps by getting pregnant from a one-night stand, hence becoming a single mom, exactly like her. The way I grew up watching her raising her (only child) son is the worst, in which I’d rather not explain in detail for personal reasons. As the years go by until I reached to my own adulthood, she has changed drastically. My aunt’s daughter became more delinquent than I thought by cursing right in front of the kids and becoming severely toxic when she became an alcoholic. She then demanded family members to give her money for her own addictions and other personal needs, and she never paid us back. That’s when I realized how badly toxic she has become.
After all the abuse and toxicity I have been receiving from my late aunt’s kids, I decided to cut ties from them for good after all these years.
Now why I am happy my aunt died? I’m getting there now.
Growing up, my parents weren’t home due to work and business trips, hence my aunt having to babysit me.
Guess what? The way she treated me is pure toxicity!
She had been infantilizing me, even though I’m not like her son.
She kept babying me over what I do and eat.
She repeatedly made me late for school just because of her one-hour showers.
She kept flooding and damaging my bathroom with her prolonged showers.
She kept feeding me high-sodium foods and junk food, in which I abhor them so much.
She forced me to be a girl when I was never into being a girl.
Worst of all, she verbally and sexually abused me during my childhood.
She would verbally attack me for not being a girl enough. She would inappropriately touch my (reluctantly) developing breasts and even my vagina to check for any signs of menstruation without letting my parents know behind closed doors.
That’s why I hated my dead aunt so much.
I am capable of taking care of myself and I became independent since I was twelve years old. Still, she kept infantilizing me over the books I read at my age and over the healthy food I prefer to eat. She wanted me to drink soda and cake, whereas I wanted to drink apple juice and carrots, only because I was too fucking thin to her! In fact, her cooking is literally the worst I have ever had. Her meat sauce spaghetti she force-fed me was always dry and very salty, which caused me to drink a lot of water and one of the reasons why I wanted to become a vegetarian. The way she cooked was extremely salty and fattening for me, hence the commencement of cooking my own (healthy) food at age twelve.
Not to mention, the way she forced me to be somebody I am not. As you can tell from my previous articles, I grew up being a tomboy since childhood. She believed in gender stereotypes, as in blue is always for boys and pink is always for girls. That’s not what I fucking wanted! I wanted to wear jeans and hoodies and skateboard with my friends. And do you know what she did? She forced me to be a stay-at-home homemaker wearing a 1950s dress! I’m not fucking Lucy from I Love Lucy! I have always been Scout Finch from To Kill A Mockingbird. I was just a child who wanted to experience skateboarding, playing Sonic the Hedgehog video games, and watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies. If I want to wear pants, then let me wear fucking pants! I hate being forced to wear dresses and skirts; it is not what or who I am! And yet, she forced me to be feminine, as in somebody I am not!
And get this:
By the time I turned thirteen… she still infantilized me! I am not autistic nor mentally disabled like her son! I am intelligent and independent for my age! I was even student of the month several times! I am capable of taking care of myself while home alone! And still! She treated me like a baby!
After everything I went through with this late aunt of mine, I am surreptitiously glad that she died from a stroke on July 5, 2009. Of course, I can’t bring this up to my family, so it stays within me and me only.
After all these years I went through from her, I am glad that I did not cry at her funeral. I am glad that her kids are orphaned. I have permanently disowned and estranged myself from her abusive and dysfunctional kids. I am glad that it all happened.
I still received trauma from all of her emotional, verbal, mental, and even sexual abuse towards me.
After nearly two decades of her death…
I am happy my aunt died.
I just want to live the life I wanted it to be as a successful nonbinary person and an emerging author.
If she were still alive today, she would have forced me to be a woman, which is the very last fucking thing I wanted.
Now, I am still the independent and intelligent nonbinary person I raised myself to become. I would never change a thing about myself.
I have moved on from my dead aunt and her surviving dysfunctional and abusively toxic adult kids.
I am sanguine enough that it all happened. It is time for me to turn the page to the next chapter after all.
As of right now–she is forever dead to me and I want it to stay that way.
That is why I am happy my aunt is dead.
(c) by Nix Cheng, 2026