MY PARENTS STOPPED ME FROM GOING TO SCHOOL; THEY SAID I CAN’T BE MORE SUCCESSFUL THAN THEM — LADY SHARES DISTURBING STORY

I was supposed to be in school, worrying about assignments, exams, and what I wanted to become in the future. Instead, I was at home, watching my dreams shrink quietly, day after day. My parents were the ones who stopped me. Not because we couldn’t afford school fees or because I wasn’t doing well academically, but because they believed I should not become more successful than them.

The first time they said it, I thought it was a joke. My mother laughed nervously and said, “Too much education is dangerous for a girl.” My father followed it up with, “We didn’t go far in school and we’re fine. You don’t need all that.” I tried to explain that times had changed, that education meant opportunity, independence, and growth. They didn’t listen. Instead, they began to see my ambition as disrespect.

As the weeks went by, their words became actions. They refused to pay my fees. They hid my school documents. Anytime I talked about returning to school, arguments would break out. My father accused me of thinking I was “better than the family.” My mother warned me that educated women lose their homes and forget where they come from. I was shocked that the same people who once told me to read my books now saw my education as a threat.

What hurt the most was the comparison. They constantly reminded me of their sacrifices and how I should be grateful for what I had. According to them, wanting more meant I was ungrateful. They believed my success would expose their own regrets, and instead of confronting those feelings, they chose to stop me. I felt punished for dreaming.

Staying at home took a toll on me. I watched my mates move forward while I stayed behind, explaining my absence with forced smiles and lies. At night, I cried quietly, replaying my parents’ words in my head until I started doubting myself. Maybe I was too ambitious. Maybe wanting more was wrong. That’s what they wanted me to believe.

But deep down, I knew the truth. Education was never my enemy. Fear was. Their fear of being outgrown, of losing control, of being reminded of what could have been. I began to read on my own, borrowing books, learning skills, and holding on to hope in small ways. They could stop me from entering a classroom, but they couldn’t completely erase my hunger to learn.

Today, I am still healing from that experience. I am still finding my way back to myself. But I have learned one painful lesson: sometimes, the people meant to support your dreams are the same ones who try to silence them. And choosing yourself, even quietly, is the bravest thing you can do.