Posts

V-Day

For a hopelessly romantic person like me, today, Feb 14th, is my favorite day. The TV is overwhelmed with romantic flicks guaranteed to end in an epic aww moment. A day where every two hours, I will experience joy-sadness, laughter-cries, love-loss only to repeat it again in the next reel. It hasn’t always been my favorite day though. In fact I didn’t know about Valentine’s Day until I was in my teens. This year feels different. I think it is because I have finally found my favorite love story. I first learnt about Valentine’s Day when I was in middle school. It had not been even a year since I had been in America. I barely understood English let alone understand the meaning of Valentine. I vividly remember sitting in a classroom surrounded by kids wearing pink/red and I had no idea why but I knew I had missed the memo. Teachers gave out extra smiles and extra treats and there were hearts everywhere. Once the bell rang that day, teacher must have asked everyone to do something because ...
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Eddie

I haven’t thought about this incident in over 30 years. Last week, I just coincidently recollected and I think I know why.   I was 12 years old when I first came to America. At about 13 or so, my sister and I started walking 1.5 miles to school every day. There were other kids that too walked to school from our apartment community, but in particular there were two boys. They sometimes walked ahead of us and sometimes behind us but oftentimes they would giggle. I didn’t know any better and I didn’t know much English to understand what they were saying. So I decided to write a note and slip it in one of their backpack. The note had a typo however. It was supposed to have said “bother” but instead I wrote “brother”. I know this because after I discretely placed the note in the backpack, I went to school, pulled out my dictionary and checked spelling of each word in that one sentence note. I felt sick to my stomach. I felt so nervous about the next morning when I knew I would face him ...
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An Approval

First thing in the morning, before the world sees us, we put ourselves through scrutiny as we glance in the mirror. We seek out pores and flyaways. We pull on our cheeks and tug on our chins. We twist and turn, stretch and bend…hoping to find a flattering side of us that might give us the courage to wear favorite jeans and sleeveless top. As warm water drenches our bare skin, we think about who all will see us, who all we will talk to and how we can shape their thoughts and perspective. We go through our jewelries, looking for that perfect piece that draws attention away from the pimples and the wrinkles. We spend our time prepping meals that our family will love, only to resent that same meal when we sit in front of it and ready to devour it. We attempt to numb our hearts by a glass of pinot noir except now we find ourselves tipsy enough to stand in front of that same dang mirror, wearing lingerie hoping to find the courage to initiate intimacy. Afterwards, in place of feeling content...
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Enough

Enough is an interesting word. In my life, enough was a taboo word confined by the boundaries I had created for myself.  When I thought to use it, it was in the context of “I did not feel enough love.”, “I did not do enough. ”, “I did not say it enough times.”. “I had enough!”… on and on it went. It wasn’t until recently when I was wishing well to someone and I ended up saying “I wish you enough!” that I realized how empowering the word enough is once I allow myself to use it. I suddenly knew how much love I needed when I said I want to be loved enough. I found it motivating when I said I did not do enough and sought forgiveness when I realized I did not say it enough times. I realized my worth and forced others to realize same when I sternly said “I had enough”.  It is said that you teach others how to treat you by what you tolerate. The word enough became my boundary setter for others as opposed to the word itself being confined by boundaries.
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A Story

When told about our past, becomes history. When told on a stage, becomes a play. When put on a celluloid, becomes a movie. When shared on pages, becomes a book. When written on a blog, becomes a shared experience. I hope to use this platform to share a perspective as a strong, experienced and sometimes wise woman who is a good mother, good wife, good daughter, a good person albeit not yet her own favorite. Join me on my journey and make it your own!!
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