Thy Truest Self
Someone said this recently, “When your life isn’t exactly truthful, you strive very hard to maintain a façade of perfection, as if, somehow you can fool yourself.”
Through some sad misadventure, my Google account got revoke. That means I can’t get access to The Accidental Migrant anymore. My photos on the blog are gone as well as my account on Picassa got revoked too. So, after many frustrated hours, I decided to stop banging my head against the brick wall that is Google Help and start a new blog. If you are reading this, thanks!
If you are a believer, than you know everything happens for a reason, even those incidents we deem as “bad” things. Perhaps, I was meant to start a new blog because, truth be told, I feel like a different person from a year ago, when I started The Accidental Migrant.
This flowering of my awakening was triggered by my approaching 35th birthday. The number in itself is meaningless. It is the value that I attached to it that made it a monstrosity in my head. I just felt so old and full of regrets for the things that I didn’t quite achieve. I was feeling really despondent until after my trip back to Singapore in March.
There is something about being surrounded by the people you love and who loves you that is really life-affirming. My trip wasn’t good just for the company of friends and family; it was the assurance that I still have a place in this world that I thought somehow, has pass me by.
What is thy truest self? To me, it means being able to live in my most authentic persona. To be able to speak my mind, to articulate my feelings, make my intentions known to anyone, to the world. I desire to be free to be me.
We all have our roles in life. Daughter, spouse, mother, carer, lunch-maker, bum-cleaner and drudge. But that’s not who we are. It is simply what we do. What defines us is who we are on the inside. I lost sight, or perhaps have never really grasp it before. I struggle very hard with my roles because I thought if I somehow succeed at them, I will finally be happy. But nothing ever really work. I’ve had intermittent success, but something was always missing.
You see, “I” was missing. How did I lose my way? I blame the bread crumbs of choices. Small, seeming inconsequential decisions at a time, that how I lost myself.
“Move to Australia? Sure, that sounds like fun”
“Have a baby at 26? Sure, why wait?”
Buy a house, mortgage our asses to the bank, have another baby. When you string them all together, they lead to a diabolic ginger bread house of domestic stronghold. The choices I’ve made are not bad decisions. But I made them impulsively, without consideration and always guided by my emotions rather than my mind. I didn’t see the big picture at all. And now, my picture isn’t turning out the way I want.
But I am going to reclaim myself. This is my year. I’m waiting to blossom into the person I know is somewhere inside.
