I walked into his study when he was drunk one night. That was my first mistake. I thought perhaps it would actually work in my favor. He might agree to my request in his inebriated state, and then there could be no going back on it.

I sat down across from the man who was supposed to love and protect me, and I recited the speech I’d prepared, complete with an array of alternative skills I could spend my time perfecting. Dance was my favorite, I told him. He laughed as if it was ridiculous and told me to go away, but I didn’t. I went on to beg him the way I knew I shouldn’t. I told him piano wasn’t fun anymore. He had made it not fun anymore.

I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he rose from his seat that night. Like a demon straight from the depths of hell. He asked me if I thought anything worth doing was fun. Of course, I didn’t know how to answer that. I told him about the other girls in my class who spent their time doing fun things. He snarled and said I wasn’t like the other girls. I was a De La Rosa, and I needed to live up to the name. Somehow, even then, I knew that I never would. Nothing I did could ever please my father. Nothing would ever be good enough.

My second mistake was trying to pursue my argument, determined to show him that I was a De La Rosa because I wouldn’t back down. I didn’t doubt I’d be punished for it. I was always punished for speaking my mind. For being too willful. For just existing. But that night, when my father dragged me to the chapel and took out his instruments of torture, something was different. He hit me harder than I expected with the belt right from the start, and I did the one thing I was never, ever supposed to do.

I cried. It only fueled his rage. He hit me again, harder yet, screaming at me not to be weak. But as much as I tried, I couldn’t hold back the tears that time. I couldn’t understand why it was okay for the boys to stand up for themselves but not the girls. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t free to choose my own path in life, and my only reason for existing was to be the talented doll of a wife to a Sovereign Son someday.