Sometimes the line blurs and I don’t know if it’s just another bunch of discouraging words I should brush aside or is it a wake-up call that is worthy of reflecting through.
‘Do you still want to study, do you want to quit school?’

How did you know?

The pictures play in my mind, over and over again, distracting yet oh-so-alluring. Maybe I could run away, to some island where I’ll sit and think through exactly where I should be heading. Do you know, two years is so freaking long. Two years of assignments after assignments. You say, ‘No one is pressuring you, no one is forcing you, why aren’t you doing well?’ How much do you know? How about your’ She is so clever. She is so hardworking. You must learn from her.’ How about their ‘Do you feel like she’s so unreachable and incomparable?’ yes, I do, thanks guys. It’s a race that’s making me so sick and tired. it’s a race that’s too long, too rigorous and too competitive. I don’t feel like running anymore. I keeping taking all these little breaks, deluding myself that it’ll help prepare me to go on faster later on, yet I know they don’t help at all. They leave me guilt-ridden, regretful, as I look at the list of undone work. And even more so as I look at how everyone else is speeding ahead. 7/60 for math. 30/60 for bio. Awesome, munching.
I remember how it was like feeling excited to do work. Maybe that’s just got to do with my insecurities as a little girl. Work has always been the only thing that I can really do, the only way to make them all take notice of me. I pushed forward with the mindset that once I show that how smart I can be with my grades, maybe they’ll start thinking differently about me. Maybe I’ll feel worthy. I don’t know how I survived those many, many years with so much insecurities. I don’t know how I managed to put up with a world that seemed so discouraging, so disapproving of just a small girl who’d been trying her best. Though I don’t remember now, but there must have been some saving grace in my life, so ray of hope I clinged on to as I grew up. I remember being very upset; I remember dreading all my piano and ballet lessons. But I remember loving my abacus lessons, the only times besides school where people actually think well of me, heaping me with praises like ‘what a self-motivated child.’, ‘oh, so clever, you’re already at grade 2?’ oh, and Chinese tuition too, where the teacher will always read out my essays to the entire class. I vividly remember myself glowing. Do you see the difference a little encouragement makes to a child? I hope I don’t ever forget this, to encourage and support my kids every step of the way as they grow up. I won’t leave them out alone, insecure and frightened. Well, but ultimately I pulled through them didn’t I? I’m still talent-less, I’m still insecure sometimes, but at least now I know I’m loved.

The irony of that, do you really love me?

And, who are you really? How is it that after living with you for 18 years I still feel like I hardly know you at all? Why do you keep belting out all the most vehement of things to say about him, behind his back, in front of me? What game are you playing and am I a pawn in your hands. You’re shrewd and you scare me. I’ll contain myself inside a bubble, stop trying to break through with your tears. It’s no use, I’m too numb to it all. Oh heck, who am I trying to kid, you make me cry so much and you make me feel like i’m the worst person in the whole wide world, just because I take after him instead of you. What if, I’m mistaken. What if I’m the one at wrong all along and you’re just misunderstood. What if I’m the foolish one intentionally breaking your heart again and again.

The thing about kids is that they’re so fresh and full of hope. You see a big heart inside all of them. You see so much potential for growth. But sometimes I look at them and feel so, because they won’t remain kids for too long. They will grow up, like I am now, and allow the selfishness and gloominess of the outside world to seep into their hearts. Babies never give up. They fall down, they get up again and keep trying. Maybe giving up is an alternative we came up with, maybe it was never meant to exist. When I was much smaller, it had never occurred to me that I could choose to give up. In my mind, moving forward is the only way to go. I didn’t have to psycho myself; I didn’t have to place visual encouragements on my table. It was simply commonsense to move on. There was no other place to go.

WHAT ABOUT NOW. CAN SOMEONE TELL ME THE SAME THING TOO? DON’T TELL ME IT’S GONNA BE ALRIGHT, DON’T TELL ME EVERYTHING’S GONNA BE FINE. NO, NO. YES, IT’LL EVENTUALLY BE FINE BUT I’LL LOOK BACK AND THINK HOW THINGS COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER IF I HAD DONE SOMETHING, IF I HAD WORKED HARDER.
TELL ME, IT’S GONNA BE REALLY TOUGH, IT’S GONNA MAKE YOU CRY AND YOU’LL FALL DOWN MANY, MANY TIMES. BUT ALL THESE SHOULD NOT STOP YOU FROM MOVING ON, YOU’VE GOT ENOUGH COURAGE, ENOUGH STRENGTH IN YOU TO GET PASS ALL OF THEM. EVERYTIME YOU FALL YOU SHOULD THINK OF HOW TO STAND UP AGAIN AND NOTHING ELSE. DON’T EVER ALLOW YOURSELF TO SIT DOWN AND CRY. DON’T CRY, CELEBRATE! FOR EVERYTIME YOU FALL YOU GET AN OPPORTUNITY TO STAND UP. AND EVERYTIME YOU STAND UP YOU GET STRONGER, AND YOU BEOME A STEP CLOSER TO THE PERSON YOU ARE MEANT TO BE.

But, where does my God fit in here? I’ll pray about it.

How to you go to a school with so many talented people and still return home with a grateful heart? How do you watch games and concerts and hear about teachers talking about ‘those bright ones’ without feeling too useless to even attempt? It’s no joke, it’s hard. It’s like how every thinks being mum and staying at home to look after the kids is an easy task. That is, until they end up doing it. I’ve always thought I could do it, that I’m smart enough, hardworking enough to stay afloat. That is, until I came in.

I remember this phrase, I don’t know where I first came across it but it helped me survive the hectic secondary one year. Then later, it was randomly and very coincidentally given to me by internal com in a laminated card.

‘Perseverance never fully releases its rewards until a person refuses to quit.’

Tomorrow, I shall go to school as a braver girl.