I am 27 years old now.  A single girl that is threatened by spinsterhood according to them.  And a part of a sub-society that denounces common ways. 
But daddy, I love him. I said it because I found the person who draws unbridled smiles on my face. I won’t say he is the person that completes me because I am a person of my own. I have never seen myself as a piece that needs to be whole. That’s off point, though.

But daddy, I love him. I love him. Love must be such a dirty and degrading notion for them to condemn it with such hatred. I must be bringing shame to my family name because I accidentally lost my grip on morality and let myself feel.  The horror.

Staring at my 27 burning birthday candles, I am more rebellious than ever. All the suitors who.. Who am I kidding. Not all, the few. I am practically a spinster now, remember?  My mother has this hope that I’ll give in. That I’ll lower my standards and compromise because I am almost out of options.

But daddy I love him.  Let that phrase resonate in their minds.  Because even if I refuse to admit that they decided my fate, they did.

I’ll march on my rebellious road.  I’ll march and march because this society will not force me into a box of its making.  They will not subvert my mind.  Not my mind.

A spinster, they said. Huh.  Call me a rebel.  A freedom fighter.  A maverick.  Because daddy, I do love him.  And you, you will not chain me down.