Thursday, September 5
one of the things in my life that i've never told anyone which i'm always in denial of is something i've always kept tightly to myself, not even to my closest buddies. i guess all along over the years i've always knew i was a little off from my emotions in this area and i've always thought i was able to control it and handle them. well, turns out i was wrong. it wasn't until recently after putting a lot of effort to change my life and scrutinize my emotions and for once being truthfully honest to myself, everything finally made sense to me. i needed to be honest to myself and face my past even if i knew i could go on through life without dealing with it, if not at some point, things will bound to repeat itself again and i wouldn't want to deal with the all the rejection, pain and grief all over again, i needed to be able to express my insecurities and identify with them, only then i could be able to grow and change for the better. this is me now, coming clean as openly bare as i can.
growing up as the only child in the family, my friends and relatives around me have always labeled me as the golden child in the family, the rich spoiled kid who always gets what he wants, the little prince who always gets away with everything he does be it good or bad. contrary to such labels and assumptions, that was far from the ugly truth. the fact was, i was actually brought up in a very abusive environment. for years my mom and myself was abused physically and emotionally by my dad, it was domestic violence at it's worst. since primary school i've always admired other families of my friends who had siblings or loving dads, constantly asking myself in my head why wasn't i born into their families. i despised my dad so much at times i'd wished one day he would go away and leave me and my mom alone, i even ran away a few times from home when i had the chance whenever he starts to lash out and hit me, at that time i was barely even 10 years old let alone having the emotional capacity to make sense of the situation, the silliest thing that i've resorted to was holding a knife in my hands against my wrist and begging for my dad to just go away and leave me alone. there were just too many drama and hostility going on at home that i could handle and at that time, running away and the attempt at hurting myself seemed like the only best resolve. the physical abuse was the worst, i remembered my dad would use the steel end of the belt instead of the leather end as a whip, and there was once it got so worst till my dad grabbed me and threw me against the wall where i'd hit and bruise my head, at times my mom would ask me to skip school because of the marks of obvious bruises she couldn't conceal on my face, arms and legs with her make up, the worst was the bleeding on my swollen lips, throughout my childhood i'd assumed it was normal for parents to beat up their children this way as punishment because they deserved it, consequently i became constantly trapped in the web of frustration, self-hatred, anger, intimidation, fear and just gave up fighting back. my only place of refuge was the house toilet behind locked doors, sometimes it would be a corner of the house near the dumpster where i'd be pushed to the corner edge helplessly and would cry and beg for my life with my arms covering my head while my dad persistently pounding and slapping me while i patiently took each blow begging for him to stop and waiting for it all to end, and when it did, i'll be laying there panting motionless arms above my head just mentally recovering myself. i recalled that whenever i sensed my dad was about to burst, my first instinct was to run to the toilet where i'd lock myself inside for hours, waiting for my mom to come knocking and convincing me to open the door, hugging me and holding my hands telling me everything is alright while wrapping her arms around my head, there was one particular time my dad even used a hydraulic jack to pry open the toilet door because he was too furious, i remembered the moment once he broke the door and seeing that expression on his face, i genuinely thought my life was about to end and at that age my mind was already instinctively wired for survival to fight for my life, that kind of emotional stress shouldn't even be present for a young kid at that age, it was just too much to bear. i could still recall those feelings and emotions vividly because at that age, that moment was so emotionally detrimental that i trembled at the thought of it and for years that was the only world i knew how to survive in. after all these years, even typing this post now as i recall those bitter memories is making me feel a bit uneasy inside and i can already feel the burden weighing down on me. i recalled sometimes after a beating, my own way to seek refuge was just lying there motionless on the floor, scared to death after my dad was finished with me, closing my eyes and pretending that i was asleep while slowly panting after i cried, still consciously just waiting and praying for my dad to leave the room after arguing with my mom just so i could make a run to the toilet to lock myself inside without risking him seeing me and beating me again. I was so terrified and scared of him that growing up i've always seen my dad as a hostile threat, i've never seen him as a father figure or a dad, to me he was just fear and intimidation in the flesh, everyday that feeling was pushed inside my head whenever my dad was at home. for me, home never felt like home, it constantly felt like an emotional battlefield, sometimes it felt like a dungeon, and only if i'm lucky, i'll get to survive another day.
My mom on the other hand was the patient housewife. She was the insecure one, somewhat like me. i've often being able to relate my emotions and my personality to be very similar to my mom and i'd always thought i inherited those traits from her, she was the glue that held the family together with the patience and love as the resolve that trumps everything a dysfunctional family would potentially have. i recalled my mom and my dad working out arguments when i was a little kid, my dad was harsh, my mom would stand at a corner of the room and listen to my dad lecturing her for hours just talking everything through, whenever i saw my mom leaning against the wall in silence with my dad talking, it always made me restless because what would happen after was unpredictable, at any random moment, my mom might walk away and my dad would spring up and began shouting, sometimes it would get physical with my mom or even throwing things and bashing them all over the room making a mess, and if i was unlucky i'd be caught in the fire as collateral damage; sometimes it'll end peacefully and fingers-crossed, everything would go back to normal where my dad would move on doing his work and my mom would continue on her house chores. indirectly, she taught me patience and value, she was the type of person that would go the extra mile for family and friends at the expense of her own self, something i've adopted from her but one thing i've never been able to vent out was the frustration of the emotional toll she went through of needing to please everyone, my dad, me, her friends, my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, there were nights when my dad was still out i'd remember hearing my mom weep and crying in the room alone and i'd walk over and comfort her as a little boy wondering and asking why, sometimes she'd call her sister who's also my aunt for a talk while tearing on the other end of the phone, she always subconsciously knew how to cope through all of the dramas and emotional stress and constantly had the support to pull through, for me i never had that privilege, most of me growing up i had no choice but to deal with it myself because at that time there was no alternative, i had no siblings to talk and share my frustration with or anyone to talk to. then when i was 16, my mom passed from ovarian cancer. during the final moments of her time, i remembered her consciousness had already drifted away and how her body would be struggling to gasp for breath on the hospital bed. i had already did my internet research on chemotherapy treatments and cancer cells to understand enough what was actually going on during the terminal stages of cancer and the treatments, when i asked the nurses and doctors about the lost sensations and motor functions, they practically lied to spare me the ugly truth to explain to a 15 year old kid, but what they didn't know was that i was already emotionally prepared to let her go because it was already painful to see her suffer from the chemotherapy treatment, i was already emotionally decapitated to feel grief, instead i felt relieved. during the funeral, i had not shed a single tear and my relatives were all already passing assumptions that i had relationship problems with my mom. the fact was, i did not want to trivialize her passing by mourning during a funeral and cry along with relatives or strangers to us that we'd meet rarely maybe just a few times a year, it just felt wrong, i needed to mourn privately at my own way to make sense of her passing and that was the only right way to do things for me. after her passing, i had initially planned to dedicate a whole post here to write about my mom but i never came about putting it into words, it was just too painful then, moreover during that time my blog was too public to my peers and i was uncomfortable in publicly announcing my vulnerabilities and my emotions then compared to now where i'd only get random hits from strangers of less than 10 visitors a day.
my mom's passing literally changed my life, i had lost that sense of home and refuge my mom had always made sure i never lose track of, something that i was already struggling to cling on to growing up, then emotionally i slowly drifted away from my family, away from my dad, and throughout almost 10 years i had to learn by myself how to be independent, i had to learn how to cook for me and my dad after walking back from school, i did my own laundry, house chores, at the same time working on my studies, tuition and making it to class, at times i was fortunate enough for my aunts to help me out with the daily routines whenever i have exams or when i needed the occasional help, my relationship between me and my dad was fragile throughout the years and we never really had a decent conversation and we were both distant, apparently we both gotten used to it, i then grew out of fearing him into a deep sense of distaste with all the traumatizing memories i had as a child, it wasn't easy to just turn a new leaf and put on a sincere smile, i tried once to put a clean slate but somehow i still couldn't find myself to look past the despair and fear from the years of being abused as a child, it was just too overwhelming to let go of and forgiveness was not even possible and so much more easier being said than done. sometimes my close friends would judge me on how irresponsible i was as a son to my father and how little appreciation i have for family values, instead of explaining myself, i just never bothered to because i knew they wouldn't understand and it would be futile trying to make sense to them about my past. it wasn't until i got accepted into university for my degree and flew to melaka for a fresh and clean start in life surviving off ptptn loan, only then i began to start knowing new friends and started being more pro-active in university by winning competitions, involved in organizing events and performances, being the assistant head facilitator to new intakes and etc because finally i felt like for once i'm in control of my own life, i was kind of happy of my life away from home even as short-lived as it was but i never wanted to talk about my family background to any of my new acquaintances, i constantly evaded the topic when asked and i'd always change the subject thinking how the past is already in the past and it was futile to mention something like that and stir up hurtful emotions, i was ashamed of it, all along i was running away from my own insecurities in life because i didn't have the emotional capacity to face it, i didn't even wanted to think about it because it reminded me how pathetic i was as a kid in being so worthless even to my family, but now as scary as it was i knew i needed to deal with it in order to mature myself to move on with a better perspective in life. during the 3rd year of my degree, when things began to be a tad bit overwhelming to handle with the exams, projects, assignments, datelines and problems with my coursemates, i became an emotional wreck. my housemates would treat me like the four seasons or a roller-coaster and always gave me space and ignored me whenever they sensed i was being moody or mad, i was a handful back then and i don't blame them, as a result i was often misinterpreted when all i needed was a conversation to vent and talk, it always made things worst struggling alone and not being able to express how i felt to anyone, i've never felt so alone before in my life. it accumulated inside of me and eventually all those bundled emotions started building up, then somehow i started to resort to smoking. however having that said, i was never addicted at all, for me the urge of smoking was never about the addiction to nicotine or the norm for socializing, it was the idea that smoking could potentially harm me, and that was the sensation i needed to let me know that i'm still in control of my emotions and my life that i needed to harm myself gradually in order to vent and ease out all the stress that's going through in my head, i honestly did not know how that made sense because i just knew once the tip of the cigarette is burnt and with every puff, everything just felt easier and better. i needed a reason to be in control of my own emotions to vent them and smoking somehow gave me that self-validating reminder that i do indeed have control, and at times it made me feel again and tears would gradually start to roll down my cheeks while recollecting everything into perspective, thinking about how far i came to be here now with each long puff thinking how i managed to pull through at even worst times. no one knew i smoked throughout the years during that time, not even my housemates or my friends, i'd even waited past midnight when my housemates are in bed to be able to sneak out for a cigarette, for years i kept it as my very own skeleton in the closet i held on to myself because it was my own personal way of dealing with my insecurities and emotions and i didn't want to be seen or stereotyped differently by my peers, and now i realized i need to change for the better and rely on my own state of mind to pull through instead.
transition into adulthood was never a breeze in the park or a sunday afternoon at the playground as much as i'd wish it was or what everyone thought a single child in the family would have at a that age. growing up was lonely, i'd always prayed for a sibling that i could relate to, someone to be able to listen and understand what i'm going through growing up within the family drama, every now and then seeing friends around me with siblings that are able to joke and laugh with their parents always triggered an awkward sense of loneliness and isolated emotions inside of me and probably that's the real reason why i never liked family visits or dinners, it just made me felt really vulnerable and uncomfortable, again it was my coping mechanism to escape from feeling those emotions. although my prayers never came true, i sill managed to survive myself through those emotional turmoils but it was not at the expense of nothing. i finally understood what went wrong and how it molded my personality into who i am today. throughout my life, i realized i had no sense of self-worth that i felt so worthless about myself so much that it became a defense mechanism to seek recognition and attention from people around me to overshadow all my insecurities (if it made any sense). i'll get easily mad and uncomfortable at everything that threatens to expose my insecurities, i was bundled up in a lot of anger and frustration inside of me, my dad had pretty much robbed away every ounce of self-worth i have left as a child and growing up was only just about preserving what's left of my worth. i learned how to detach myself emotionally towards everyone around me from being vulnerable to them and it was how i learned to move through life being strong, confronting and how i seem fit, as a result i became emotionally inept of dealing with my struggles from day to day with people around me, i didn't know how to be intimate with another person emotionally, i didn't even know how and all i knew how to handle it was just being mad and moody with the assumption that people would get me while longing for someone to be honest to talk to that genuinely cared, but that day never came. ironically i became really good at shielding myself while at the same time unconsciously chewing away bits and pieces of my self-esteem from the inside and gradually turned myself into the very insecure bit that i've tried so hard to keep away from the world and the people around me, and all along i assumed it as my emotional refuge.
when that day came, my naive assumption of how that person should be turned into an ideal expectation. i began to slowly letting my guard down too soon and i gave too much of myself away assuming the ideal notion that love trumps everything, little did i realize i took my partner for granted and was releasing almost 26 years of bundled insecurities on someone i cared and expecting that person to be able to accommodate and take it all in at once, even imagining how i'd react as the receiving end made me a bit overwhelmed and of course if it was me, it would've drove myself further away. being the kind of person that has always enjoyed deep vulnerable and honest conversations with good friends, one particular conversation that really resonated with me was my friend telling me about how before i can love another person, i must first learn how to love myself. it then lingered in my head for days and weeks, i realized for years i've never appreciated myself enough to be able to stand independently on my own two feet, i'd always sell myself short in this aspect of my emotions and had not given myself any credit in my life. i didn't know how to express and give love but rather i became withdrawn and laid back in relationships. as a result, i thought love was more towards being loved rather than sharing it. loving myself was more about being secure and comfortable with my own skin and body, and being able to handle my own emotions firmly without the need to be emotionally dependent to another person, and when the time comes to share that love with someone else, it will grow and expand to compliment each other rather than just giving and providing at the expense of another, this was the ultimate love that would hold hearts together in the long run, that was the epiphany i had that showed me so many mistakes that i've made in my life and my relationship that i'd wished i would have realized sooner.
when i was about 22, i began to openly come out to a few of my good close friends gradually and it was one of the bravest decisions that i've ever made by myself. unfortunately some friends left, and lucky enough some stayed and accepted me without any bias or discrimination, for that brief period i felt blessed and grateful. with that first step of liberation and that new found honesty, my fear of being outed slowly subsided until i graduated into the brutal world of the working environment. then i realized coming out was never that final hurdle in life that i'd initially thought that would make everything better, the real challenge was how i handled myself after that really matters. the only world i knew back then was the fear and being so paranoid of being outed, discriminated, looked down upon and treated differently by my peers, but the matter of the fact is the world itself was already vile and harshly judgmental with or without me coming out, i began to dislike the world i've come to know and it then pushed me over and buried all my insecurities even further as a coping mechanism, i turned bitter and defensive and occasionally i got verbally aggressive as well when being confronted in regards to any minorities or to people like us and taking a stand against all forms of discrimination by unconsciously carrying the burden of the world on my own shoulders even though i know i'm already comfortable being myself. i know i've always portrayed a rigid exterior of being the dominating-opinionated guy to everyone around me, but inside i've always yearned to be able to be intimate and vulnerably honest and be myself because it was something i've never been able to let go and talk about and frankly, it's really really emotionally tiring proving to my colleagues and my friends every single day that i'm equally capable and efficient as any guy would be regardless of my preference even though i've never came out to them. little did i know that all these feelings of wanting to prove something about myself was actually a reflection of me struggling with my insecurities. ironically, to my partner i changed, to my peers i came off as aggressive, confident and firm, and to me it seemed like "liberation" and that was the assumption that made all the difference.
having coming clean with all my "dirty laundries", it'll make the difference only if i was able to reflect on those patches of stains and take the initiative to take the first step to move on in life with a different perspective on a new clean sheet. i realized that i needed to love myself to be comfortable to adapt and shouldn't need to try to change the opinions of the world around me so badly and just accept that the world is exactly how it is. i just needed to focus on myself and do the best that i can in my part of being well-achieved and proud and just trust that everything in the world will fall in place by itself without the need to control it. there's no need to overthink what other people's opinion about me because the value of my existence is measured by how i value my own life. i realized i didn't need to be scared about intimacy and being comfortable to open up about myself with another person because i love myself more than i could give. even though my abusive upbringing shaped me into who i am today, it was a catalyst that pushed me to grow and for that i am still grateful for it, no one said growing up would be easy right? as how anger has destroyed me and took away something so precious and endearingly close to my heart, learn to let them go and channel those anger positively into another form of expression rather than on another person and scar them like how my father did on me. as far as my insecurities go, everyone has them, so once in a blue moon, it's alright to let loose sometimes and show the world that you are only human and trust that whoever that crossed paths with you would value you and accept you as much as you value your own worth and never ever doubt your own worth to anyone, especially to your partner. forever remember that love and affection exists mutually between two connected beings and never ever EVER take one other for granted because in the long run, it takes a lot of effort to be very aware and to care about your partner's innate needs every single day, every single moment, and every single second to be supportive for one another to grow spiritually and emotionally without the fear of being judged or biased, because ultimately it comes down to trust and being confident enough to let go of all your inhibitions comfortably and laying it all out bare while sharing all your skeletons and your vulnerabilities of your life with a partner without weighing one another down, and trusting everything will fall into place, i learnt that the hard way. your past would always be your past and do not let it be your burden and know that it WILL be only if you choose to, it is your guide to change and grow, reflect on them and remember what you learnt from past mistakes, even better, dwell on it, then fill your head with the feelings of grief, regret, pain and even remorse of what might have changed for the better and constantly remind yourself to never repeat that same mistake and take that progressive step to be in control of your life and grasp happiness by the balls and make it ultimately yours.
growing up as the only child in the family, my friends and relatives around me have always labeled me as the golden child in the family, the rich spoiled kid who always gets what he wants, the little prince who always gets away with everything he does be it good or bad. contrary to such labels and assumptions, that was far from the ugly truth. the fact was, i was actually brought up in a very abusive environment. for years my mom and myself was abused physically and emotionally by my dad, it was domestic violence at it's worst. since primary school i've always admired other families of my friends who had siblings or loving dads, constantly asking myself in my head why wasn't i born into their families. i despised my dad so much at times i'd wished one day he would go away and leave me and my mom alone, i even ran away a few times from home when i had the chance whenever he starts to lash out and hit me, at that time i was barely even 10 years old let alone having the emotional capacity to make sense of the situation, the silliest thing that i've resorted to was holding a knife in my hands against my wrist and begging for my dad to just go away and leave me alone. there were just too many drama and hostility going on at home that i could handle and at that time, running away and the attempt at hurting myself seemed like the only best resolve. the physical abuse was the worst, i remembered my dad would use the steel end of the belt instead of the leather end as a whip, and there was once it got so worst till my dad grabbed me and threw me against the wall where i'd hit and bruise my head, at times my mom would ask me to skip school because of the marks of obvious bruises she couldn't conceal on my face, arms and legs with her make up, the worst was the bleeding on my swollen lips, throughout my childhood i'd assumed it was normal for parents to beat up their children this way as punishment because they deserved it, consequently i became constantly trapped in the web of frustration, self-hatred, anger, intimidation, fear and just gave up fighting back. my only place of refuge was the house toilet behind locked doors, sometimes it would be a corner of the house near the dumpster where i'd be pushed to the corner edge helplessly and would cry and beg for my life with my arms covering my head while my dad persistently pounding and slapping me while i patiently took each blow begging for him to stop and waiting for it all to end, and when it did, i'll be laying there panting motionless arms above my head just mentally recovering myself. i recalled that whenever i sensed my dad was about to burst, my first instinct was to run to the toilet where i'd lock myself inside for hours, waiting for my mom to come knocking and convincing me to open the door, hugging me and holding my hands telling me everything is alright while wrapping her arms around my head, there was one particular time my dad even used a hydraulic jack to pry open the toilet door because he was too furious, i remembered the moment once he broke the door and seeing that expression on his face, i genuinely thought my life was about to end and at that age my mind was already instinctively wired for survival to fight for my life, that kind of emotional stress shouldn't even be present for a young kid at that age, it was just too much to bear. i could still recall those feelings and emotions vividly because at that age, that moment was so emotionally detrimental that i trembled at the thought of it and for years that was the only world i knew how to survive in. after all these years, even typing this post now as i recall those bitter memories is making me feel a bit uneasy inside and i can already feel the burden weighing down on me. i recalled sometimes after a beating, my own way to seek refuge was just lying there motionless on the floor, scared to death after my dad was finished with me, closing my eyes and pretending that i was asleep while slowly panting after i cried, still consciously just waiting and praying for my dad to leave the room after arguing with my mom just so i could make a run to the toilet to lock myself inside without risking him seeing me and beating me again. I was so terrified and scared of him that growing up i've always seen my dad as a hostile threat, i've never seen him as a father figure or a dad, to me he was just fear and intimidation in the flesh, everyday that feeling was pushed inside my head whenever my dad was at home. for me, home never felt like home, it constantly felt like an emotional battlefield, sometimes it felt like a dungeon, and only if i'm lucky, i'll get to survive another day.
My mom on the other hand was the patient housewife. She was the insecure one, somewhat like me. i've often being able to relate my emotions and my personality to be very similar to my mom and i'd always thought i inherited those traits from her, she was the glue that held the family together with the patience and love as the resolve that trumps everything a dysfunctional family would potentially have. i recalled my mom and my dad working out arguments when i was a little kid, my dad was harsh, my mom would stand at a corner of the room and listen to my dad lecturing her for hours just talking everything through, whenever i saw my mom leaning against the wall in silence with my dad talking, it always made me restless because what would happen after was unpredictable, at any random moment, my mom might walk away and my dad would spring up and began shouting, sometimes it would get physical with my mom or even throwing things and bashing them all over the room making a mess, and if i was unlucky i'd be caught in the fire as collateral damage; sometimes it'll end peacefully and fingers-crossed, everything would go back to normal where my dad would move on doing his work and my mom would continue on her house chores. indirectly, she taught me patience and value, she was the type of person that would go the extra mile for family and friends at the expense of her own self, something i've adopted from her but one thing i've never been able to vent out was the frustration of the emotional toll she went through of needing to please everyone, my dad, me, her friends, my grandmother, my aunts and uncles, there were nights when my dad was still out i'd remember hearing my mom weep and crying in the room alone and i'd walk over and comfort her as a little boy wondering and asking why, sometimes she'd call her sister who's also my aunt for a talk while tearing on the other end of the phone, she always subconsciously knew how to cope through all of the dramas and emotional stress and constantly had the support to pull through, for me i never had that privilege, most of me growing up i had no choice but to deal with it myself because at that time there was no alternative, i had no siblings to talk and share my frustration with or anyone to talk to. then when i was 16, my mom passed from ovarian cancer. during the final moments of her time, i remembered her consciousness had already drifted away and how her body would be struggling to gasp for breath on the hospital bed. i had already did my internet research on chemotherapy treatments and cancer cells to understand enough what was actually going on during the terminal stages of cancer and the treatments, when i asked the nurses and doctors about the lost sensations and motor functions, they practically lied to spare me the ugly truth to explain to a 15 year old kid, but what they didn't know was that i was already emotionally prepared to let her go because it was already painful to see her suffer from the chemotherapy treatment, i was already emotionally decapitated to feel grief, instead i felt relieved. during the funeral, i had not shed a single tear and my relatives were all already passing assumptions that i had relationship problems with my mom. the fact was, i did not want to trivialize her passing by mourning during a funeral and cry along with relatives or strangers to us that we'd meet rarely maybe just a few times a year, it just felt wrong, i needed to mourn privately at my own way to make sense of her passing and that was the only right way to do things for me. after her passing, i had initially planned to dedicate a whole post here to write about my mom but i never came about putting it into words, it was just too painful then, moreover during that time my blog was too public to my peers and i was uncomfortable in publicly announcing my vulnerabilities and my emotions then compared to now where i'd only get random hits from strangers of less than 10 visitors a day.
my mom's passing literally changed my life, i had lost that sense of home and refuge my mom had always made sure i never lose track of, something that i was already struggling to cling on to growing up, then emotionally i slowly drifted away from my family, away from my dad, and throughout almost 10 years i had to learn by myself how to be independent, i had to learn how to cook for me and my dad after walking back from school, i did my own laundry, house chores, at the same time working on my studies, tuition and making it to class, at times i was fortunate enough for my aunts to help me out with the daily routines whenever i have exams or when i needed the occasional help, my relationship between me and my dad was fragile throughout the years and we never really had a decent conversation and we were both distant, apparently we both gotten used to it, i then grew out of fearing him into a deep sense of distaste with all the traumatizing memories i had as a child, it wasn't easy to just turn a new leaf and put on a sincere smile, i tried once to put a clean slate but somehow i still couldn't find myself to look past the despair and fear from the years of being abused as a child, it was just too overwhelming to let go of and forgiveness was not even possible and so much more easier being said than done. sometimes my close friends would judge me on how irresponsible i was as a son to my father and how little appreciation i have for family values, instead of explaining myself, i just never bothered to because i knew they wouldn't understand and it would be futile trying to make sense to them about my past. it wasn't until i got accepted into university for my degree and flew to melaka for a fresh and clean start in life surviving off ptptn loan, only then i began to start knowing new friends and started being more pro-active in university by winning competitions, involved in organizing events and performances, being the assistant head facilitator to new intakes and etc because finally i felt like for once i'm in control of my own life, i was kind of happy of my life away from home even as short-lived as it was but i never wanted to talk about my family background to any of my new acquaintances, i constantly evaded the topic when asked and i'd always change the subject thinking how the past is already in the past and it was futile to mention something like that and stir up hurtful emotions, i was ashamed of it, all along i was running away from my own insecurities in life because i didn't have the emotional capacity to face it, i didn't even wanted to think about it because it reminded me how pathetic i was as a kid in being so worthless even to my family, but now as scary as it was i knew i needed to deal with it in order to mature myself to move on with a better perspective in life. during the 3rd year of my degree, when things began to be a tad bit overwhelming to handle with the exams, projects, assignments, datelines and problems with my coursemates, i became an emotional wreck. my housemates would treat me like the four seasons or a roller-coaster and always gave me space and ignored me whenever they sensed i was being moody or mad, i was a handful back then and i don't blame them, as a result i was often misinterpreted when all i needed was a conversation to vent and talk, it always made things worst struggling alone and not being able to express how i felt to anyone, i've never felt so alone before in my life. it accumulated inside of me and eventually all those bundled emotions started building up, then somehow i started to resort to smoking. however having that said, i was never addicted at all, for me the urge of smoking was never about the addiction to nicotine or the norm for socializing, it was the idea that smoking could potentially harm me, and that was the sensation i needed to let me know that i'm still in control of my emotions and my life that i needed to harm myself gradually in order to vent and ease out all the stress that's going through in my head, i honestly did not know how that made sense because i just knew once the tip of the cigarette is burnt and with every puff, everything just felt easier and better. i needed a reason to be in control of my own emotions to vent them and smoking somehow gave me that self-validating reminder that i do indeed have control, and at times it made me feel again and tears would gradually start to roll down my cheeks while recollecting everything into perspective, thinking about how far i came to be here now with each long puff thinking how i managed to pull through at even worst times. no one knew i smoked throughout the years during that time, not even my housemates or my friends, i'd even waited past midnight when my housemates are in bed to be able to sneak out for a cigarette, for years i kept it as my very own skeleton in the closet i held on to myself because it was my own personal way of dealing with my insecurities and emotions and i didn't want to be seen or stereotyped differently by my peers, and now i realized i need to change for the better and rely on my own state of mind to pull through instead.
when that day came, my naive assumption of how that person should be turned into an ideal expectation. i began to slowly letting my guard down too soon and i gave too much of myself away assuming the ideal notion that love trumps everything, little did i realize i took my partner for granted and was releasing almost 26 years of bundled insecurities on someone i cared and expecting that person to be able to accommodate and take it all in at once, even imagining how i'd react as the receiving end made me a bit overwhelmed and of course if it was me, it would've drove myself further away. being the kind of person that has always enjoyed deep vulnerable and honest conversations with good friends, one particular conversation that really resonated with me was my friend telling me about how before i can love another person, i must first learn how to love myself. it then lingered in my head for days and weeks, i realized for years i've never appreciated myself enough to be able to stand independently on my own two feet, i'd always sell myself short in this aspect of my emotions and had not given myself any credit in my life. i didn't know how to express and give love but rather i became withdrawn and laid back in relationships. as a result, i thought love was more towards being loved rather than sharing it. loving myself was more about being secure and comfortable with my own skin and body, and being able to handle my own emotions firmly without the need to be emotionally dependent to another person, and when the time comes to share that love with someone else, it will grow and expand to compliment each other rather than just giving and providing at the expense of another, this was the ultimate love that would hold hearts together in the long run, that was the epiphany i had that showed me so many mistakes that i've made in my life and my relationship that i'd wished i would have realized sooner.
when i was about 22, i began to openly come out to a few of my good close friends gradually and it was one of the bravest decisions that i've ever made by myself. unfortunately some friends left, and lucky enough some stayed and accepted me without any bias or discrimination, for that brief period i felt blessed and grateful. with that first step of liberation and that new found honesty, my fear of being outed slowly subsided until i graduated into the brutal world of the working environment. then i realized coming out was never that final hurdle in life that i'd initially thought that would make everything better, the real challenge was how i handled myself after that really matters. the only world i knew back then was the fear and being so paranoid of being outed, discriminated, looked down upon and treated differently by my peers, but the matter of the fact is the world itself was already vile and harshly judgmental with or without me coming out, i began to dislike the world i've come to know and it then pushed me over and buried all my insecurities even further as a coping mechanism, i turned bitter and defensive and occasionally i got verbally aggressive as well when being confronted in regards to any minorities or to people like us and taking a stand against all forms of discrimination by unconsciously carrying the burden of the world on my own shoulders even though i know i'm already comfortable being myself. i know i've always portrayed a rigid exterior of being the dominating-opinionated guy to everyone around me, but inside i've always yearned to be able to be intimate and vulnerably honest and be myself because it was something i've never been able to let go and talk about and frankly, it's really really emotionally tiring proving to my colleagues and my friends every single day that i'm equally capable and efficient as any guy would be regardless of my preference even though i've never came out to them. little did i know that all these feelings of wanting to prove something about myself was actually a reflection of me struggling with my insecurities. ironically, to my partner i changed, to my peers i came off as aggressive, confident and firm, and to me it seemed like "liberation" and that was the assumption that made all the difference.
having coming clean with all my "dirty laundries", it'll make the difference only if i was able to reflect on those patches of stains and take the initiative to take the first step to move on in life with a different perspective on a new clean sheet. i realized that i needed to love myself to be comfortable to adapt and shouldn't need to try to change the opinions of the world around me so badly and just accept that the world is exactly how it is. i just needed to focus on myself and do the best that i can in my part of being well-achieved and proud and just trust that everything in the world will fall in place by itself without the need to control it. there's no need to overthink what other people's opinion about me because the value of my existence is measured by how i value my own life. i realized i didn't need to be scared about intimacy and being comfortable to open up about myself with another person because i love myself more than i could give. even though my abusive upbringing shaped me into who i am today, it was a catalyst that pushed me to grow and for that i am still grateful for it, no one said growing up would be easy right? as how anger has destroyed me and took away something so precious and endearingly close to my heart, learn to let them go and channel those anger positively into another form of expression rather than on another person and scar them like how my father did on me. as far as my insecurities go, everyone has them, so once in a blue moon, it's alright to let loose sometimes and show the world that you are only human and trust that whoever that crossed paths with you would value you and accept you as much as you value your own worth and never ever doubt your own worth to anyone, especially to your partner. forever remember that love and affection exists mutually between two connected beings and never ever EVER take one other for granted because in the long run, it takes a lot of effort to be very aware and to care about your partner's innate needs every single day, every single moment, and every single second to be supportive for one another to grow spiritually and emotionally without the fear of being judged or biased, because ultimately it comes down to trust and being confident enough to let go of all your inhibitions comfortably and laying it all out bare while sharing all your skeletons and your vulnerabilities of your life with a partner without weighing one another down, and trusting everything will fall into place, i learnt that the hard way. your past would always be your past and do not let it be your burden and know that it WILL be only if you choose to, it is your guide to change and grow, reflect on them and remember what you learnt from past mistakes, even better, dwell on it, then fill your head with the feelings of grief, regret, pain and even remorse of what might have changed for the better and constantly remind yourself to never repeat that same mistake and take that progressive step to be in control of your life and grasp happiness by the balls and make it ultimately yours.
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