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07 August 2016 @ August 07, 2016
It's funny how, despite many years, I still come back to this page when I'm feeling down and confused.
My first blog post was published on 13 Nov 2005. At that point of time, the trendiest thing for me, was blogging. And it simply read "MY NEW BLOG IS DONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" in that very font colour and the right number of exclamation marks. That was how happy and excited I was.
Blogging started out as an avenue to connect with my classmates, to share my day-to-day events and complaints about a plain old secondary school life. I took the very same list of personality tests my classmates and friends took, and share my results on my blog. I wrote about the amount of homework I had, the funny things that happened in class and my Wushu training.
Then it became a place to share my interest in music - which was when I started to keep track of the latest music releases and aspired to become a radio deejay. I remembered having a small discussion with my mum about heading into polytechnic to pursue Mass Communication or going into JC first, then studying Mass Communication at university level.
It also evolved into a place where I reflect on life after JC and shed some light on my inner emotions which I hardly share with anyone. And, as all of you should know, I went to Meridian JC... and then, I (almost) flung my A levels.
That was one point in my life where I regretted about not working hard enough. My grades couldn't make it to any of the government universities. Not even the courses when the lowest benchmarks. It was one of the hardest phone calls I had to make. I hid in the staircase and trembled as I called home. After the call, I cried hard and dried my tears before I headed home.
I decided to seek further education at private universities.
And, that was a point in my life, where I got into a heated argument with my mum. I had one goal in mind - which is to enroll for the Mass Communications course at MDIS - the school fees were affordable, it was aligned with my dream and I get to complete my final year in US! How cool was that! Parents, as they will naturally do, comes in at this juncture to give you some advice or encouragement. My dad, totally cool and supportive of my decision after reading the brochure. My bro, envious about the opportunity I will have. But my mum? Ha! Things weren't that simple.
She adamantly discouraged me. Well, she went asking around for advice from her friends, I guess. The general feedback from her friends was that MDIS was unheard of, might've been a scam. I rolled my eyes. Yes, MDIS is a younger and less established private school, but it was advertised everywhere, from prints to buses - it was even on the recommended list of schools from the bulk of brochures I received at graduation. Oh wow, look at the distance this corporation goes to swindle money out of our pockets!
I can't remember if I broke down into tears again arguing with her on that. I think I shouted that she wasn't supportive of my dreams and how she makes all the decisions for me as I was growing up - well, I don't want to go into the details. I think anger got the better of me and I slammed my bedroom door, squatted at the corner of my room. Just wanted to find a safe and quiet place to vent my frustrations and cool my head.
I gave in to my mum. I made a choice to go to SIM, where, fortunately, my buddy, Serene, happened to be going too. So that was comforting to know. And I met a bunch of nice people, and of course, weirdos. University was definitely an eye-opener. And I became more open-minded. For the first time in forever, I traveled so frequently to the west side of Singapore. For the first time in forever, I realized how common, smoking and tattoos were for people my age. And yes, they can be really nice people.
It was at university - albeit a little late - that I realize that my world, prior to coming to SIM, was so small. I was a lucky girl. Well-sheltered. Met the right company of friends. Go home everyday with warm food. Had a dad who would drive you to school if you were late.
I remembered that I cried out of embarrassment when I saw my dad coming to school just because I forgot my water bottle - it was my mum's idea to get him to bring it to me. Why? Well, because she's worried that I won't drink any water without my water bottle. Like, come on?! I could've bought a bottle of mineral water from the school canteen!
It was in me from the very moment I was born. At two, I insisted on feeding myself with my own utensils without my parent's help. At kindergarten, I assured my mum that I will be fine at home with the TV, so she could go see my brother home from school. At secondary school, I asked my dad to not iron my school uniforms because if I wanted it, I should do it myself. At university, I started the habit of washing my own bottles and dishes after I get back from school each day. I cooked my own lunch on weekends. At my full time job, I started to pay for my own expenditures, my phone bills, food, transport, shopping. I woke up on my own. Asked to not be helped even if I was running late for work. Told my mum that I want to be responsible for my own actions.
Control is the word. I want to be in control of my own life - take the credits for my right decisions and bear the repercussions of my wrong choices. I was upset at how reliant my brother was on my mum. And even more upset at how my mum did not stop us from exploiting her for help to get by everyday.
And so. Another episode of this happened again recently. In fact, it was there all along, but it worsened from my last two weeks at AS. In my final two weeks of work I was in a rush to finish all the reports I had to do and hand over what I had properly to my successor. I pushed myself to work more than 12 hours each day. I would arrive at work at 10am, and leave office close to 12am. It was an insane struggle for a work perfectionist like myself. I wanted to leave on a good note. For the good pals and new person in line to be glad that I left no mess for them to clean up. I wrote checklists. I wrote step by step manuals. I did templates. I uploaded my work into the company's shared drive. I went spent time teaching new stuff during office hours on top of my workload. My dad and mum didn't understand. If my dad, the person who has always been most liberal about my choices in life didn't understand, I don't think anyone would.
Why? Why not be selfish and just leave? I did it for my prideful self. I wanted recognition. I wanted them to think that I am capable. I wanted them to look up to me and envision that I have a bright future ahead. I wanted them to love working with me, appreciate my efforts and respect my work ethics.
For work, I will go the distance to get what I wanted done. Because, I want see the glow from the fruit of my hard work; the shine on people's faces from my creation; and I want to proudly say that "Yes! That's my work!" I guess, that's why I wanted to get into consumer marketing.
I'm disappointed at the current relationship I share with my mum. On the Saturday after my last day at work, I went back to office to finish up more work. Last Wednesday, I went back to AS after work to go through work with the new guys. On both occasions, I stayed till 12am. And on both occasions, I lied.
I told my parents that I was having more farewells from my colleagues at AS. I couldn't tell them that I was at work. I'm sure that my dad will be fine - but telling him will mean that my mum will know - so I had to keep both of them in the dark.
My mum was not the type to yell or slap. But one cold look and a few words were good enough to tear my heart apart.
翅膀硬了，长大了，不用爸妈了啦
I was struck dumbfounded and helpless. Since a year ago, I started to stay later and later behind for work. I even brought work home for the weekends. And my mum started to be unsupportive of my job. She encouraged me to quit. I told her that this is what I love and I do not detest the hours and hard work I needed to put in.
She then compared me with other people. And asked why other people could be working on a 9 to 5, can't I get an easier job? I explained that I didn't want to take things slow. I wanted to learn everything as soon as possible. And from there work my way up the corporate ladder and head deep into ecommerce for consumer marketing. And our conversation never progressed from there. It was just repetition after repetition, until the day I told my mum that I found a new job. She was relieved. I guess, she couldn't bear to see me burn myself out like how my brother did in the past - but that was because he eat, and that's a separate story which I can tell another day.
So, how on earth will she be okay if I told her the reason for coming home late on those two days was because of work at AS?!
As of today, it has been one week of work at my new company. There's also a fun story behind my new job, but let's save it for another blog post in future - probably the day when I leave this company.
So where was I... yes, on Friday, I stayed a little bit later than usual just to have a sense of how late people at my new work place stays back for work. And I was kinda glad that all (but one - that fella came late for work that day so he was making up for time) left at 7:30pm. And earlier that day, I also got the sense of how hard they pushed themselves to finish work. I sent out an email with the word URGENT in bold, in upper case, and in red for a simple task of resizing 3 images. Minutes later, I heard the holla of the creative director directed at me and the account manager saying that I should never send any emails with that kind of message, because I had no idea how much work the creative team had on hand.
Well, it was my fault for not considering that. But I did consult the person who was working on the project right after I sent out the email if she read the email or had questions. But she gave me a vague answer so, I guessed that I could follow up with her later that day to check on the progress. On one hand, I was appalled at how protective the director was, but on the other, I am glad to know that they do their best to practice work-life balance and try not to stress their employees out.
We don't try to make enemies within ourselves, we work together to fight those outside (aka: clients)
That was what my supervisor said to me after that small episode. Point taken!
So back to what I wanted to say. It was 8:30pm when I got home from work. After I had dinner and washed up - I habitually brought myself into the study to enjoy some anime from my laptop. My mum then casually asked how late do the people at my new workplace work. My over-sensitive self kicked in and I defensively retorted,
Mummy, people who work in marketing/creative will always be working late. Why do you even ask? You are always unsupportive of my work.
Stunned, my mum asked why I was being so sensitive and that she was just asking out of curiosity. And then I psychotically said
I love my job and I am willing to be abused because of the work I love. So stop asking if you are not going to be supporting what I love!
And that was it. I wasn't able to speak to my mum properly over the weekends. I wasn't apologetic about what I said because it was truly what I felt. But I think I hurt my mum. And I didn't know how to mend things back. I wasn't able to cry it off because it crying wouldn't solve the problem.
So I decided to write it out. Writing, though is rare, but has been an effective avenue for me to reflect on myself and relieve my inner turmoils. And I realized that singing, is also a great reliever for me. I noticed that I sing a lot when I am in a good mood. I felt much better when I sang a few of my favourites while my parents were out for lunch yesterday.
Thanks diary. For unconditionally accepting who I am. For helping me to record important events in my life so I can look back on the past on days like this and be thankful for everything that has happened to me. Perhaps, on my next blog post, I will write a letter to my older self.
Thanks, once again. I feel so much better now. I will try to patch things up with my mum on the coming public holiday this Tuesday.
Signing off,
My twenty-four-year-old self
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Geraldine B.
