A while after the failed matchmaking attempt, the mother of the guy whom I was set up with called me one fateful Saturday morning. She was a nice lady, but she demanded to know what was wrong with her son, and why I did not want to give it a shot. (Insider Tip: Never answer this question. It is a trap and will get you into bigger trouble)
After I wiggled my way out of answering this, she then proceeded to ask me how old I was. I told her I was turning 28. “You’re already 28,” she said. “What else are you waiting for?” I laughed. But her question haunted me for days. What else am I waiting for? Sometimes I find myself walking up to the doorstep of my apartment, particularly after meeting someone on a date, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Don’t get me wrong. I love dating and meeting new people. Humans are fascinating. Knowing them at a better depth, discovering their vulnerabilities, hopes and dreams is such a wonderful experience that makes my life so colourful. I love the getting-to-know-you phase, twinkles in the eye and the butterflies. In fact, some of the bigger lessons I have ever learned about life are through knowing someone else. But of course there are times when I end up at my doorstep in the quiet, wondering how many more times. But then I open the door to my house and find myself strangely happy. There are the rows and boxes of my books that I spend hours reading at my own time. There is the kitchen bar where I would sit and have quiet morning breakfasts, one of my most favourite parts of life. There are picture frames showing the places I have been to and the world I have seen. I love my family. I love my friends. Contrary to popular belief, being single does not mean you spend your days feeling lonely. In fact, I seldom have enough idleness wallowing about what is not my life. I have a wonderful supportive family and a great group of friends who are always there for me despite their own busy lives. All my time is mine. Everything I own are truly mine. And I love it. By my own standards, I am perfectly contempt where I am. But slowly, there will be these seeps of thoughts that spawn from someone else, telling you this is not enough. There will be two types of people who are interested in your life as a singleton. The first type are those who genuinely care for you and want for you to happy. The second type are those who are just interested to hear your stories of singlehood for their own amusement. The latter will immediately assign a term of reference made of their pre-assumptions about you. Lonely. Feminist. Desperate. Choosy. Trying too hard. Not trying hard enough. That small portion of what they know about you will be the backbone of what they think you are solely about. With time, I have identified these types and no longer tell them anything. They do not deserve to share my vulnerability. A few days ago I attended an ‘Aqiqah’ (a small get-together to introduce a newborn baby) of a good friend of mine for her first born. Her baby was a precious one, and I was so happy to see her finally being a mother, something she has always wanted to do. But there I was sitting there, secretly grateful that I’m not a mother to anyone today. I always thought I never wanted to get married. I will live a free life and see the world and do whatever I like. But then I turned 27 and changed my mind. Similarly, I’ve never thought of myself as mother. But then, who knows what the future looks like? What I have come to learn is that we always think we know what we want, but our visions of our lives are so fluid and could change in an instant. In that spirit, it suffices to have faith that The Superior always knows exactly what we need and when. And everything will happen at a perfect timing. No more, no less. I had lunch with a good friend of mine. We’d known each other for a good few years now, and it’s safe to say that my rapport is an open book to us. As we proceeded to discuss about what our progress and what was going on with our lives, my friend evaluated.
“You never take chances.” That was concluded of me. A glass broke somewhere. Or at least, that was how it felt. Sometimes it takes another person who’s not in the bubble to point out things that were already obvious otherwise. I’m not a risk taker, I realized. Everything that I have done is on the basis of being safe, and of sparing myself from any idea of failure. I am the woman who sits and wait for things to fall on her lap. I am that person who resists change. The signs couldn’t be more obvious. I insisted on settling down in the same area of the city as the one I first landed in when I got a job, because I didn’t want to have to start over in a different place, with different people and a different grocery store. I used the same Goddamn vintage mobile phone until it broke into pieces that I had no choice but to get a new, smarter one. I got an offer to study in Paris two years ago, but wimped out at the last minute because the idea of me being alone in a foreign city with a language I didn’t understand was daunting to me. I never show my true emotions unless I’m 100% sure that my vulnerability will not be screwed over. I kept wearing the same backpack when traveling even when it’s so aged that one of the handles is longer than the other, because well, what if I don’t like the new one as much? I can’t seem to be crossing the line to the next phase of my life, because I see it as a cliff – if I jump I might never be able to come back. I don’t take enough chances in life. What’s the cause of this? Possibly through years of experiencing or witnessing other people take that leap, only to crash and burn. It is an ugly scar that reminds me of the mess I’ll have to clean up if it didn’t work out. It is the fear of things not turning up the way I’d hoped them to be that stops me in my tracks. But if I don’t take chances… well I’d imagine that life would be quite dull. I’ll carry on being exactly like I am right now, forever. I’m not saying right now isn’t great. But I have a feeling if things are still same ten years from today, I’ll be so bored with everything that I’ll eventually join some kind of community chess club. And nobody wants to end up there. That’s plateau-life territory. So I guess I’ll try to take a bit of a risk. Let’s start with having a chicken sandwich instead of the usual egg tomorrow morning. Was 2012 a good year? It was err… average. Everyone is fine and healthy, some good things happened, some bad things occurred, I’m still in one piece and Eminem is still rapping. However, I feel that 2012 is the year of realizations. Which is a good thing, I guess. But it also means that it is not particularly enjoyable, which is why I rated 2012 as average.
This year, I realized that some things are just beyond our control. Without getting too personal about it, all I’ll say is that sometimes, we try so hard to help others, but if it is to no avail, settle with the fact that we did our best, and the rest is God’s plans. It is pretty much useless to fret and be sad over it, because that doesn’t change anything. This year, some of my friends also lost their parents and loved ones. It’s a jolt for me. I’ve been quite sheltered in my life, and although I know of death, I don’t think I ever gave it as much thought as I did this year. When a friend loses a parent, you immediately connect to the emotions – this could be due to the fact that you’re of the same age and are pretty much going through the same motions, and therefore you fit in their shoes and understand the situation better. It made me think of my priorities in life, how I spend my time and whether it is with people who matter to me. While we’re on that subject, I’ve also noticed that I’ve become a lot pickier about friends. Don’t get me wrong, I like everyone in general and I have no intentions of becoming a social zero. But I no longer feel obligated to befriend anyone who doesn't interest me in any particular ways. I am gradually growing out of the people-pleasing phase, thank God. I don't think I could sit through another conversation on reducing tax and business shares. There aren’t many changes this year, physically. I still live in the same apartment. I still know nothing about cars. And yes, I didn’t achieve my resolution to start reading the paper. I think it’s about time I admit that the news is too depressing for me. But I did see a lot of amazing things this year, just as I had hoped. The world is still as beautiful. I fell down the stairs twice. I discovered lots of new, good music. There's a realization that moderation is key when having fun. I finally understood what Missy Higgins said about love never being just black and white. I had some really great times with my family and friends. I met new friends who are surprisingly interesting. I got to know my colleagues better. I made bad decisions here and there. I traveled like I planned. Alright maybe it wasn’t such an average year after all. It’s a common subject. Talked to its death.But like any common dilemma, we’ll keep discussing this until the end of time, because damn it we humans love asking the same old questions over and over again. I define ‘want’ as things that you’d love to have, but are not necessarily good for you. You know, like Ashton Kutcher. ‘Need’ is something we may not particularly look forward to, but would be beneficial in the long run, like vacuuming the carpet. To further demonstrate this, here’s a table of examples. Sometimes I complain that things I ask for, or work for, don’t work the way I plan them too. I figured it was because I didn’t try hard enough, or maybe it’s because I didn’t pray enough about it. Then it occurred to me. What if they’re not working out because I am asking for the wrong things? I think I need certain things in life, but really, how on earth would I know if they’re any good for me? I suppose when things turn out in a different way than what they’re supposed to, it’s a way to show us that ‘hey, you want this, but you don’t need it. You need that instead.’
Hmmm. That’s an optimistic way to look at things in life I guess. Easier said than done, I know. I found this in a fortune cookie at an engagement party i recently went to. Gasp! It knows my future! Everytime I am faced with a problem and start having the ‘why me??’ thoughts, I will always be reminded of what Christina Yang said once in an episode of Grey’s Anatomy.
“Everyone has problems. Deal with it.” That is, in fact, true. And I will feel slightly better for at least two minutes. It’s better than nothing anyway. I have always been a pretty optimistic person. I don’t believe in wallowing for too long. Time still ticks, and you’re only wasting your own time if you drown yourself in your sorrows. Live still moves on, and (based on my previous entry) it’s all temporary in this lifetime anyway. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ll all die sooner or later, so you see what I mean by temporary? I also like the positive sayings like ‘every cloud has a silver lining’, ‘everything happens for a greater reason’, you know, all that stuff. The problem is, those sayings only sound pretty when you hear it during your stress-free time. When you’re actually in a predicament, and you’re very upset, all you want to do is round-kick anyone who says those sayings to you. I am currently going through a rough patch, which is pretty normal for the rest of us, because we’ve all got our own ups and downs. Work, which is one of the things I rely heavily on to make my life more meaningful, is screwing me. My social life isn’t really prospering well either. I am pretty sure that one day I will look back at this and laugh, but for now, I am not exactly feeling jolly or upbeat about it. Right now I am thinking, ‘Why me? Why does it seem like everything awful is happening to me? And all at once, too.’ I have good friends who will hear me vent all day if I need to, but really what’s the point in that? I am responsible for my own problems. That being said, I am also responsible for my own happiness. I’ve realized that all of my downsides at the moment – work, life – are only occurring because I depend on other people for my own well-being. I depend on people at work to make me feel like I am doing something worthwhile. I depend on people in my social circle to make me feel like I am living a contempt life. You see, that’s the problem when you rely on people. You end up, for the most part, disappointed. This is because you fantasize that people will rescue you. When really, the truth is, people are just like you. They have limitations and boundaries. If you must rely on something, let it be two things and not more – God, and yourself. God, because let’s face it, without a belief system I would’ve probably jumped off a bridge many years ago. Yourself, because at certain points of your life, you’re the only one you can count on. Of course you’ll have your family, spouses, friends who will probably take a bullet for you (like the ones we see in TV dramas), but the thing to remember is that you are, first, foremost and most importantly, responsible for your own happiness. Everybody else is just joining in the celebration. Well, this sucks. I thought I’d feel better after writing this entry, but I sort of don’t. Haha. In about one week I’ll turn twenty-five.
Twenty five. 25. Wow. I don’t think I deserve to be 25 at all. In my mind I am still a big fat baby. When I was in high school I looked at my twenty-something year old relatives and thought that they were such grown adults who seemed to know exactly where their lives are headed and what they wanted to do. I sit in my room right now, in a rented apartment, and I think about that night I sat in bed and wrote resolutions on what I will accomplish as I turned 24. That was a year ago? Wow. What’s different since a year ago? Well some things remain the same, like my obsession with Coldplay, my thoughts on flat shoes (shouldn’t be worn in broad daylight) and my fondness for movies and my love for my family and friends. I still like Harry Potter books, I still love cooking and I still would like to go to Iceland. But in a year, so many things have been so different. I travelled more. I backpacked across Vietnam with a bunch of amazing people, and saw so many amazing things. I swam for the first time with turtles and sharks. I finally got involved with charity instead of just talking about it, and I loved the feeling that I am actually making an effort in trying to make a difference in the world. I discovered a new dimension with my family, from which I learned that the true essence of being a family is being able to pull through the bad times together and come out of it with more love for each other. After all, what is life if it is not with a family? Subsequently, this has also taught me a thing or two about men and relationships. It's not just about being consumed with the idea of finding a guy, any guy. It's about Mr Right, not Mr. Right Now (but of course, if they both happen to be the same guy, well then more power to you LOL). My twenty-fourth year has also showed a phase change – everyone seemed to be getting married and making babies! To tell you the truth, I was a bit taken aback by all these changes, and frankly a little pressured at first (especially at weddings. Why won't these aunties give me a break??), but with time I have learned that everyone has their own timing for everything that happens in their lives. There is no point comparing your life to others because they are never even for a second similar. We don't have the same time graph. Birth, death, wealth, hardships, we all have our own schedules for that. Everybody has a calling in life, and thus nobody should be judging anybody else about how their lives have turned out. Some things remained the same, and some things have changed, but some other things seem to still be in progress. I am still in the process of figuring out my path. Some days I look around and it seems like everyone knows exactly what they’re doing, and I am still pretty clueless. I am still planning my travels for the next few years – hopefully I’ll get to see the world a little bit more. I am still learning the curves of financial planning. I am still trying to become a better Muslim. I am still very excited about what life has in store for me. I hope I get to live my dreams and take my family along with me for a great many years, and grow old happily, spending my days on my front porch with a view together with my husband, sitting around laughing with my high school girlfriends like we always do, going for weekend trips with my bunch of friends, doing something I absolutely love for a living, having firm feet on the ground on my faith and religious beliefs, joining charities and changing the world. And of course, I hope I'll eventually have a really nice record player with all Coldplay songs on it. Sometimes before I go to sleep I will randomly remember things I have done in the past that are so outrageous and I would cover my face with a pillow and wish I could punch those memories out of me. A worse case would be if I have pictures to remember them by. Like becoming my Mother’s fashion victim in the 90s, where she would dress me up in suspensions or a scarf with mismatched shorts, and how about those God-awful haircuts? I accidentally cut the tip of my sister’s finger off during a bicycle accident. I almost killed my baby brother because I was experimenting whether he would float if I place him in a filled bathtub. I ate weird seeds because my playground friends told me they were ‘magic fruits’. Then there was a phase where I thought I looked good dressing up like a boy throughout high school, and I let my Dad pick out my shirts. I strutted around with extra large shirts which I thought looked fly and flashed my horribly cut mom jeans. And if that wasn’t enough, there’s the prom. Oh dear Lord the prom. I can’t believe I walked on stage in that Tarzan dress! I vividly remember that in that moment, I thought that the only way I could look even better was if I paired that dress that made me look like Tarzan’s wife with some blue and green eyeshadow, orange blusher and coral lipstick. And thick glasses. And sang some dodgy S club 7 song onstage. And my Dad thought I looked fabulous. God bless him. Then there was college, where I did even more dumb things. My roommate and I decided to take pictures of ourselves posing around the house, with terrible hair braids and spotty makeup. We looked like the hippy chicks who got locked up in a makeup drawer. Then I went to field trips where we didn’t get to shower very much for weeks, so in all those pictures, I looked like I just got out of jail. I also spent money I didn’t have on a shirt that was also worn by Paris Hilton (what was I thinking? Who wants to dress like Paris Hilton??). I went swimming in the sea at 3 in the morning, which my parents would’ve killed me if they ever find out. I stalked a guy because I thought that was the correct thing to do if I wanted to make him notice me. When I tell these stories to my friends at the office, they are amused because they think that my life is filled with ‘Oh God Why’ moments. But the truth is, I think we all experience those things growing up. You either choose to embrace them and laugh them off or you could cover your own face with a pillow. Either way, it’s pretty important to know that if it weren’t for those things, you wouldn’t be the way you are now. At least for me, I now know that babies don’t float and you should probably try to not get fashion advice from your Dad who wears only brown-colored shirts. My brother, center, who became the object of my 'floating baby experiment'. My mother's legendary suspenders in action. Timing. When I think about it, timing had always been that thing that stopped everything for me. If I wasn't going culture-shock crazy out of an all girls' boarding school, right at the time when I was in prep college, I probably would've been studying in New Zealand, which was my dream place to study abroad. Timing. If the offer to publish my book with a USD3000 contract didn't arrive during my second year in college (when I was living on instant noodles), I probably would've had a book published. Timing. If I had met certain people and a certain time, maybe my life would've been different. Timing. People say that meeting the right guy is 50% the right guy itself and 50% timing. Timing. Success is effort at the right timing. Timing.
I spent quite a lot of years reminiscing the fact that if it hadn't been for bad timing, my life would've been almost perfect. Everything would've just gone in perfect order. I would've never had too many failures, meet too many wrong boys, or have too many mundane moments. But as the years go by and I saw many people going through even more shitty situations than I ever did, being in a string of bad luck, lost too many people in their lives, I begin to also see that these things that happened to them because of bad timing are what made them who they are today. I had a friend who was in her final year at college when her Mom was diagnosed with a rare cancer. At the same time she got dumped by her boyfriend. Now, talk about really bad timing. But today she remains one of the strongest woman I've met. She has a great career and a man who really deserved to be with her. So now I'm thinking, wait a second. Maybe there really isn't such thing as bad timing. Maybe all there is is just bad response to these timings. View from my apartment in the evenings Five nights out of seven I would drag myself to bed, eyes half closed, and somewhere between my head hitting the pillows I was already out. When you live in the city that never sleeps, you're either busy working, entertaining friends, running errands, doing house chores or just plain running around the city trying to keep up with everything. Sometimes the only quiet, alone time you will ever get is that moment when you're lying in bed in the dark, and those minutes that your brain is settling down and drifting off to sleep are the most precious minutes ever.
I live in an apartment right smack in the middle of the city. From my bedroom window I could see a lake and a landscape of the whole city. The apartment is right next to streets of shops and restaurants, so you could say that my residency is as city-ish as it gets. When I shut the lights and am about to lie down in bed, all bare-faced and in comfy wear, I see buildings in lights and the lake reflecting back everything. I see the city before I go to sleep at night. Granted, the city offers lullabies for you as you lie in the dark in bed. Be it New York or Kuala Lumpur, you will often hear either police sirens or the ambulance speeding past your street. If it's a weekend night, you can still hear the distant sounds of traffic even at midnight, and those horrible karaoke singing from some drunken middle aged groups. Sometimes people next door would be arguing too loudly, or their kids start screaming for something. These would usually tone down as the night grows, and if you wake up in the middle of the night you might hear dogs barking or still, some occassional car driving past. These soundtracks are often there to break the silence, but even then, while you're sighing and your muscles are finally relaxing, your mind seems to start its pre-bed routines, or so I call it. It will start thinking about what you did for the whole day that day. If you've done something you probably shouldn't, it will remind you that you won't do it again (although chances are you might do it again anyway). If you haven't completed a certain task, it will say,"Okay, I'll handle it tomorrow". If you experienced something out of the ordinary, like a cute guy, a strange encounter, an argument or a funny moment, it will recall every detail of that incident and you will smile/laugh/frown accordingly. Usually at this point you would already become pretty sleepy. But on some cases, you might have gone through some heavy issues, and it will immediately use this position to manipulate you and not allow you to sleep. I find this especially true when I'm up accidentally in the middle of the night. The thoughts would come rushing in and before I could stop myself I'd be thinking about it and I wouldn't be able to sleep anymore. My usual points of weakness are - Life and its complicated meanings, God, sins, family issues and broken hearts. At this point I would usually lie in the dark, listen to my mind thinking while the dogs are barking outside. Well at least you know you've got company. |
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