Category: Journal

Getting out of bed was a win

Having breakfast felt a lot

Then I scrubbed and I dubbed

I made the room shine

I felt so proud, I forgot my break

But dinner was made for my two lovely kittens

We had our meal in the now shiny room

Their laughter, priceless.

I felt so driven, fueled by love

I even painted the walls I’ve forgotten

Today was exceptional.

My back hurts

But well done to me

I have a little knob

It’s not big

But also not small

Just little

The knob is mine

The knob is precious

Sometimes I don’t want the knob

But the knob is still there

Sometimes I lose the knob

And I’m grateful when I find it

I have a little knob

It’s a Chinese proverb of how we all eventually will return back to our roots.

We recently had a trip back to our home country. Seeing my parents reminds me of the hardship we went through together. Seeing them never fail to teach me the value of family, frugality, love and virtue. My mom and I are also getting closer, and we both now respect each other’s boundaries.

I once swore that I would never change who I am despite my achievements and where I now stand. Coming from a family where even electricity and food was scarce, thanks to both my parents who toiled their entire life, I now have a stable career. I worked hard, but it would never be possible without them. My dad ventured multiple business just to be able to afford my university fees. He was such a strong father. Despite some failures, he never once gave up. I’ve heard terrible stories about men taking their lives after failing business ventures: I’m just so glad that wasn’t my dad.

We’re now financially free, living comfortably, never needing to “ikat perut” (tie stomach to starve). During my trip, we laughed about how my exam results were withheld because I wasn’t able to pay my uni fees on time. We cried tears of joy, being grateful that despite all those tough times, we still held each other’s hand tightly. We forgive and forget harsh words that were said in times of frustration. Because at the end of the day, we’re family.

Mr Monday and Princess Tuesday really enjoyed staying with my parents. Sadly Mojuju’s dad home has some issues so we couldn’t stay over, but they spent nearly everyday with my father in law while we went in Mojuju’s home town, so they had great time there too.

I’m glad my dad is making good progress after his surgery from cancer too. Despite not recovering my existing investment money for his surgery, we again managed to work hard here and there to afford the surgery before it spread. I hope he remain in remission and continue to teach my children the virtue he taught me throughout.

Continue reading “Leaf will always fall down back to its roots.” →

We all have been accused of doing something we didn’t. I don’t know about you, but my childhood was filled with them.

I don’t know why it mattered to me so much. Maybe because they were my parents, and it felt like they had the most negative opinion about me without finding out the truth.

I was watching a video about a famous theme park in our country and it reminded me of when I was 16 and asked to go with my friends. I was told that one of our teacher would accompany us, and so that was what I told my parents.

What happened after was bizzare. I remembered my mom asked me if I’m sure that the teacher was going and I replied with “yeah” with no care in the world. I was grounded for a month after, and my parents did not tell me why. They were clearly angry at me, and there were a lot tension.

I remembered being perplexed, and hurt. They never mentioned anything throughout about why they were mad. I eventually found out from my teacher after the trip, that she wasn’t present.

I remembered how hurt I felt after. I never quite understand why wouldn’t my parents spoke to me or try to understand me. There was no trial, just punishment.

My entire teenage years replayed with similar theme the entire time. I’d be accused of doing something bad, when I did not. I’d be accused of everything that goes wrong in the house.

I remembered crying in the corner of my best friend’s room in the dark, because I felt like going home feels like a punishment. I hated home, I hated my house, I hated the way I’m looked at. It’s something my sister will never understand, because she was only a toddler. She had a very different set of parents. I’m glad that she didn’t experience the same parents I had.

Now that I’m a parent, I want to have more faith in my children than I had before. I don’t want to look at my children with a black tinted glasses.

I wasn’t a bad child, I always wondered why wouldn’t my parents believe in me.

Yesterday Princess Tuesday cried after knocking her hip at the stairs.

She started wailing as usual, she’s never one to shy away from a loud cry.

I knew she hurt herself because she kept rubbing her hips. So I comfort her and hugged her tightly.

She continued crying while holding me really tight.

It dawned upon me that I never get a hug when I cry, many times I get reprimanded for being weak, cry baby, and just not strong enough. My memory of my mom hugging me was only when she had an argument with dad when I was 6, she was sobbing. Mom has told me recently that I was a cry baby and so to stop me from crying she would always bring up the police getting me or her if I continues, and as I grew up, needless to say it was just “Get a grip. Crying doesn’t get you anything.

Dad hugs me a lot, but never when I’m emotionally vulnerable. To be fair, he never around when I was hurt, and eventually we drifted apart emotionally. Our hugs are more playful than wholesome.

As I hugged Princess Tuesday, a part of me felt like I was hugging my 4 year old self.

I wasn’t weak, I wasn’t a crybaby. I just needed love, but my mom thought it was strength that I needed. I needed warmth, she thought I needed grit. Our boomer parents grew up in a dog eat dog world, where grit was survival, so I understand how that happened.

I hope my children will grow up knowing that my arms are always theirs to stay in.

Recently I feel that I have a lot more of myself to give. I believe it’s because Mojuju has been stepping up, providing me with tlc. I felt more capable of giving love, both to him and the kids.

Its surprising, especially because I started a second job and is essentially working twice the hours I was before. I thought I’d crumble, but instead, Mojuju’s warmth guided me through it.

He came to me the other day telling me he cancelled his holiday with his mother next year because he didn’t want to leave me struggling with the kids. I kept asking him to go because I’ve never wanted him to feel like I’m stopping him. Actually when he initially told me he was going, I very quickly arranged childcare on my working days without even objecting. I even told him to extend the trip for another week or two. How else can I convince him to go? What if his mother thinks I’m the one who stop the trip from happening? I kept stuttering, reassuring him that I really didn’t mind. His next sentence just melted me into tears.

“It doesn’t matter to me, what matter to me most is you. You’re the only person for me.”

It felt odd, and strange, but warm. He has been putting me as a priority recently, which was something he forgot about the past years.

I realised then, all these while, I just wanted to feel loved. I wanted to feel like I mattered. Because he mattered to me. And when I did not feel that way, I lied to myself that it’s okay because he didn’t matter too. But he always did.

I’ll now just bask in the love that he is pouring into me, then give it back to him in two folds.

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