Chapter 1: My Secret Life

                                    

                                          

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
*This chapter will explain more about who she is, and the story starts from here.
* also know most chapters will not be this long... if you prefer it this way, leave me a comment. 
I curled tighter into my bed and hugged my warm blanket. I gave it a sniff, it needs a wash soon. With so much going on it's hard to keep track of what hasn't been done yet. The endless checklists I make are no use. Dragging my feet, I reached my sister's room and made sure she was awake.
	"You better be down when breakfast is ready or you're not getting any!" I hollered as I went to wash. She can't have any more tardies. 
	Carmen was jumping in his crib, his hands outstretched waving his toy. He needed a diaper change and a desperate trip to the shower. I sighed and got ready for the day. Even my siblings thought I started my day minutes before them. But really it started at the crack of dawn. I bet the sun is jealous of how I start my day before it. I only curl up in bed once my chores are done so I can savor the feeling of resting one last time before I'm dragged into the endless cycle called life. 
	My morning consists of making breakfast, doing laundry and preparing lunches and ironing for the next day. I recently started preparing dinner too because it takes too long to chop things by the time I get back.
	I live the two polar opposites. It's hard for people to understand the reality I live every day. I live in a certain blip in the plan of life where what my life looks like, is not at all like what it truly is. I have a certain group of people and family I need to keep up appearances for. It's an awkward reality where it's even hard to feel sorry for me and my siblings. 
	My father lived a fabulous life, and made sure we did as well. It was the manors we lived in, there wasn't a place we liked where he didn't buy us a summer home. If it wasn't the latest, newest or limited- we didn't wear it. We traveled everywhere on private jets. My favorite photos are those of me and my siblings and cousins playing on jets so large surrounded by an army of our toys. My past is true and I lived every second like a princess. But it was when he passed we learned the truth. Behind my father was a mountain of debt. Loans piled up, when his inheritance from my grandfather wasn't enough he didn't want to end the life he built for us.
	He never thought of the consequences. Paying the price for his mistakes was the only inheritance, besides debt, we received. My mother was able to move around his remaining assets and paid the rest from her own pocket. But the end result is basically us with everything that looks like we still lived that fabulous life. The worst part is no one even offered to buy us groceries in those tough times, as they thought we had large stacks of cash waiting for us. We traveled for a while, and for me it felt like hiding (it wasn't for fun, we were checking all the foreign banks in which he had borrowed money from).We were getting used to a new life where all the staff were let go. At first I worried how my favorite flowers would be replaced on my room's balconies without a gardener. How would I continue my diet plan without an in house chef? What would happen if my tutors and personal trainers no longer visit?
	But the reality was much more serious than that. Now alone in the house with my siblings, the responsibility is much larger than that. As the oldest I'm grateful I at least was able to graduate high school. Now my life is acting like our old designers are vintage (so in!), and declining a lot of offers to go out. I slept late because I was cleaning the bathrooms or changing the sheets.  Even if I wanted to do a mediocre way to complete everything it just wasn't possible. I had a certain standard of living and I absolutely refused to be denied. Even if I had to do it myself. 
	I still iron my pjs while I review my lessons, and fold using my favorite Japanese method, and I always make a minimum 3 course meal. Even if my side was grapes, it was better than nothing. It may be a lot more emotionally and physically draining, and a lot more work than it may be worth. But the little feeling of sanity I get from the tiny taste of satisfaction is enough to make me continue. 
	It's an ironic situation, money is tight, we have no help around the house, I have to drive myself everywhere. And even more, when I walk to the store (I play it off that I'm exercising, but in reality I'd rather not waste gas). The most shameful thing is when we reach the end of the month and all the bills are paid so all I have left for dinner is some change. I count the coins and only ever have enough to grab ramen. No more multi-course meals. No more organic food on my whim. One day I'm vegan, gluten-free or lactose intolerant, the next I'm cooking ramen for my family. Eating is now a tool for survival, not pleasure- and that is a hard pill to swallow.
	I am now a master in spinning half-truths and redirecting prying eyes. Sadly, all this got me is a more mysterious persona that added to the already large image of my lifestyle. People only wanted to know more about the supposedly luxurious life I lived. When they come over and see the house spotless and as fancy as ever they see the catering staff and you can almost see their pupils growing with awe and jealousy. They already jump to all these thoughts about how high and mighty and bigger than life I live. I act nonchalant. This is all normal. Or it used to be. 
	Making these events every once in a while is a necessity. They need to see you are still in the game. It's a chance for everyone to show off their new jewelry sets, bags and heels. The supercars that roll up alone would warrant a security team. It's a chance to complain about the weather in their new homes, or how the newest runway collection didn't suit their taste. But most importantly it's so they know we are not going anywhere. We are steady in our position and have no intention of shying away from who we are. 
	They don't know of course that the leftover buffet is the only food we will eat for the next week and a half. They don't know that I only know about the newest bag because I saw it online, not because I got invited anymore or had time to go myself. They are oblivious to the fact that just 5 hours ago I was building a new crib for my brother, or that I had to unclog the toilets myself prior to their visit. They can't remember which season my dress is from so they don't figure out that I got it on sale a month ago. 
	All these lies are toxic. The crazy web woven around me and my life. All the false assumptions I never deny. All the standards I force myself to live up to, the standards I deserve to live at. That's why I do my yoga, learning my poses from blogs and hope they are correct. If I squint hard enough I can pretend there's a trainer beside me, guiding me.
	I can be called entitled, or in need of to be humbled. But this wouldn't bother me. I know myself, and see no shame in giving myself the life I want if I cannot afford to hire it. I can broom the stairs, wipe the windows, peel the veggies, and tutor my siblings. And it will not stop me from having peach ice tea, and doing yoga on our balconies. I'm still going to practice my martial arts even if I cannot afford to join the club any longer. I still take long baths (without the water running for long- I just soak in the tub) and dance like I'm in a ballroom.  
These tiny pleasures- snippets from a life I used to have, come with the consequence of an added workload but my childishly stubborn heart gives me the will to continue. 



Chapter 1 done! Now this is more of and introductory chapter so you know her back story, but trust me it gets much better after this.