He sat across me at the table that evening. We had just finished visiting our Junior College, where we were joined by countless others to celebrate our principal's retirement.
In light of turning 24 just a few days ago, it's about time this post got its status updated to published.
We decided to relive our adolescent years at our usual tau huey place just behind. It was where we had gathered numerous times before as semi-adults grappling with 'A' levels.
We had very raw and honest conversations. And I continued talking to said friend all the way home. We sat under my block and chatted till 1AM.
"I'm not intimidating," a belated defense but I felt was necessary.
"You're very different now. You weren't like this before," he said.
Having known each other for a good 7 years now, he noticed how I've changed. (Heck, he even noticed I had put on make-up that day even though it was just foundation.) He must have unintentionally studied how I'm no longer 17, no longer whining about every single thing and no longer naive.
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It was surprisingly tough to admit the word intimidating is eerily familiar. I've been told, probably one too many times at that, that the way I am right now will likely "chase all the boys away."
I never realised how "intimidating" I had become over the years.
It might seem unbelievable, perhaps even laughable, that this lady right here was once consumed by all sorts of inferior complexes as a child.
Many of us live with baggages from our past - some we overcome in time, others we struggle to come to terms with till today.
As for me, I was brought up to be the "overachiever" at home. There were many times I felt burdened by the expectations of my loved ones, and when I failed to meet their standards, my world crumbled.
In school, my petite frame made me the centre of jokes by the boys. Although I reacted with spite and charged after the fellows who made fun of me, it was an entirely different story on the inside.
I hated crowded trains where people would easily miss me. I hated going to get food from the coffee shops, especially the cai fan store, because the uncle/auntie behind the counter would skip my turn.
"哦，sorry! æ²¡æœ‰çœ‹åˆ°ä½ !" They always exclaimed.
We often underestimate the power our words have on people around us. But just think about the times we've been hurt by words.
As I grow older, and began to make sense of life in its totality, it was tough. Not just because I was constantly struggling with the demons in my head, but also because I've had to send many loved ones off their last journey.
For years after Papa's passing, I lived with a void I couldn't fill or accept. Although Mama had selflessly tried to fill the gaps, being unable to talk about Papa the way my siblings did made me feel I wasn't worth his love at all.
We are so good at sabotaging ourselves, really.
Under those circumstances, I saw myself as a hardened reflection of all the negative emotions. And it took years before I healed.
Years later, here I stand a confident 24-year-old enjoying freedom and independence.
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Did I aim to be intimidating? Definitely not.
I have to admit that sometimes I, too, am intimidated by the things I say and do.
But I'm not always putting on a brave front trying to fight it out with everyone out there. I'm not always responding wittily or defensively, or even sarcastically.
There are still nights I break down in the shower and nights I cry myself to sleep. Ther are still days I disconnect from the world, entertain no one and keep to myself.
I really am not as intimidating as I seem but I guess when you grow up in a world that takes every chance to poke fun at the flaws you never saw in yourself, you learn to build a wall of defense.
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