So, here is the final takeaway for every budak scrolling through this article at 1:00 AM:
Your point of view matters. Your feelings are valid. But do not let a "situationship" define your worth. Do not let a GC decide your reputation. And for the love of all that is holy, if they say "I'm not ready for a relationship" – believe them the first time.
Enjoy the drama, but don't drown in it. Study hard. Love harder (but only those who love you back). And remember: The best POV is the one where you look back in ten years and realize you survived all the awkwardness and became a decent human being.
Now, go touch some grass. And reply to your mom’s text. She’s the only one who won’t leave you on "Seen."
What’s your POV? Drop a comment or share your worst "budak relationship" story. (We promise not to screenshot it for the GC.)
The Blurred Lines of Relationships
As a budak, my relationships with the family members I serve are multifaceted. On one hand, I am expected to be obedient, subservient, and attentive to their every need. I am, after all, a servant. On the other hand, I often find myself becoming an integral part of the household, almost like a member of the family.
The family I serve often treats me with a mix of kindness and disdain. They may offer me food or small gifts, but at the same time, they may also belittle me or make me feel inferior. This paradoxical treatment can be confusing and emotionally taxing. So, here is the final takeaway for every
The Social Hierarchy
In the household, there exists an unspoken social hierarchy. The family members are, of course, at the top, and I, as the budak, am at the bottom. This hierarchy can be oppressive, making me feel like I am not worthy of respect or dignity.
However, I've come to realize that this hierarchy is not only limited to the household but also extends to the broader society. As a member of the lower socioeconomic class, I am often treated as a second-class citizen. People in positions of power, such as my employers, may view me as inferior or less deserving of basic human rights.
The Performance of Servitude
As a budak, I have to perform my role convincingly. I must be attentive, obedient, and subservient. I have to anticipate the needs of my employers and be proactive in meeting them. This performance can be exhausting, both physically and emotionally.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm living in a state of constant performance, where I have to put on a mask of servitude to avoid reprimand or dismissal. This performance can be alienating, making me feel like I'm losing myself in the process.
The Isolation of Servitude
One of the most challenging aspects of being a budak is the isolation that comes with it. I often work long hours, sometimes exceeding 12 hours a day, 7 days a week. This leaves me little time for socializing or engaging in activities outside of my servitude.
Even when I do have free time, I often find it difficult to connect with others outside of the household. People may view me as "just a servant" or "only a budak," reducing my identity to my role. This can be disheartening, making me feel like I'm invisible or insignificant.
The Internalization of Oppression
As a budak, I've come to realize that I've internalized many of the oppressive messages I've received from my employers and society at large. I often feel like I'm not good enough, that I'm inferior, or that I don't deserve basic human rights.
This internalization can be damaging, leading to feelings of low self-esteem, self-doubt, and powerlessness. It's a constant struggle to resist these messages and remind myself of my own worth and dignity.
The Resilience of the Human Spirit
Despite the challenges, I've discovered a remarkable resilience within myself. I've learned to find moments of joy in the midst of hardship, to appreciate the small kindnesses from my employers, and to cultivate a sense of community with other servants or marginalized individuals. What’s your POV
In the face of oppression, I've also discovered a deep sense of solidarity with others who share similar experiences. Together, we form a network of support and understanding, which helps us navigate the complexities of our roles.
Conclusion
Being a budak is a complex and multifaceted experience, marked by both oppressive systems and moments of resilience. As I reflect on my experiences, I'm reminded of the need for empathy, compassion, and understanding in our relationships with others.
By recognizing the inherent dignity and worth of all individuals, regardless of their social status or role, we can begin to challenge the oppressive systems that perpetuate inequality. As a budak, I may be at the bottom of the social hierarchy, but I know that I deserve to be treated with respect, kindness, and dignity.
Apakah kamu merasa ada yang salah dengan hubunganmu? Cek apakah POV-mu saat ini seperti ini:
Change your POV. Instead of "POV: Jadi Budak," switch to "POV: Aku Prioritas Utama" (I am the main priority).