Me. In chronological order.

I grew up rich and pampered till i was 8.

Then my parent’s business failed and I became poor but still spoilt.

And i became really poor, i no longer could afford to be spoilt.

In fact, I could no longer afford to feel anything.

Don’t be emotional, study, grow up.

At the age of 16, I started to work in food chains to get some extra pocket money.

At the age of 17, I stopped receiving consistent allowance and depended on scholarships and bursaries (thank you for a meritocratic system).

At the age of 18, I got into all sorts of part time jobs, met all sorts of people — the smart and snoobish, the real and poor (of course these are not meant to be stereotypical categories, they are just reflective oh whom i met).

At 18, i had to choose a field of study, and i wanted to do business. But some adviced that business was too generic, and told me to do economics. even though i swear to god i was never gonna touch it after the leaving exams. But i did anyway.

At 19, I met a boy. We got attached. He was rich but frugal, I was poor but a spendthrift. He was brilliant and excelling, I was well, failing. I told him I hated my course of study, he told me to move schools and courses. We broke up, but i ended up pursuing something else.

At 20, I entered a new school in social sciences, because fuck what is practical, i’m going to do what I like. I loved it. I excelled. I shined, I met so many people.

At 21, I met my ex-partner. We got together. We bonded over our similarity in background (poor but hardworking), we were nice, we were sweet, he was supportive, I felt loved.

At 22, I signed yet another scholarship, because i knew it would make Dad proud. And i wanted him to be proud because he’s had to deal with an unsuccessful daughter for the last 20 years. To be fair, i was not unsuccessful, just really really downright average in a pool of better than average people.

At 23, I started my job, a job i predicted i would hate after my multiple internships, but took on anyway to feel proud of myself. I hated every minute of it, and cried everyday. My nice partner was there supporting me through my breakdowns.

At 24, I started volunteering at a women’s organisation. no one would network with me when they realised I was in a career of no use to them. I realised, people are materialistic.

At 25, I got selected to go for a worktrip with my high school friend who worked in the same company. We wanted to see how tech companies (wework) reimagined spaces and leases. We were, b-l-o-w-n-a-w-a-y. We came back, and both quit. I broke my bond to quit, because, well, I was blownaway by how creative and large the world outside my organisation is.

At 25, i moved to a tech company. For the first time in my life, i worked with at least 10 different nationalities. I couldn’t understand a work, aussie accent was the hardest for me. But it got better, I loved every bit of adrenaline, I realised how powerful and impactful the tech industry could be. I changed, I became greedy and hungry to see how big and large the world could be and how far we could go.

At 25, I got proposed to. At 25, I realised, I’ve changed, my nice partner is still nice, but we didn’t manage to grow in the same direction at the same speed.

At 26, i did all the superstitious things to convince myself my relationship was going to be alright. I went into hyper wedding planning mode. I also bought a house. It was going to be alright because I’m working hard.

At 26, my nice, fun company, got acquired. I had to find a new job. At 26, i found a job at a place with many smart people. Not sure if i really would succeed, but i worked hard any way.

At 26, I found out my dad has cancer. I had to get married. I want him to walk my down the aisle.

At 27, after a year long planning, I got married. I remember on the day of the wedding, i thought, my parents and his parents must be happy. I gave great speeches. Hey, did I forget or choose to ignore asking if I was happy?

At 28, I met the real love of my life, he challenged and intrigued me in all sorts of ways. And i realised, i’m fucked because he wasn’t my partner. Am I gonna be the evil lady who ruined this nice partner’s life???

At 28, my dad passed away.

At 28, my world went dim. I lost the love of my life, I lost the greatest supporter in my life, I lost my ever so supportive and understanding partner. I lost my will to live.

At 29, I am now, single, alone, scared, and shocked by what I’ve done and what I’m doing at times. But also, taking this chance to ask myself, can i love myself finally? Can I stop living for validation? Can I finally, in this tiring life, slow down, and ask myself, how do i feel my dear? How can I be happy? What do I want to do? Can I really enjoy a good life?

Sometimes I worry that life makes me live through so many occasions and hardships at a 2x speed, very reflective of my hyperactive personality, but also makes me wonder, is this because I am going to die soon? And whichever god you believe in, is making sure i got the full life experience despite it being a short one. How do i feel about dying? Honestly, I am neutral now. I am convinced i won’t be able to find another person I love so dearly, another person who can support my ambitions so unconditionally, another person i have so so so much fun with. And if I can’t find this person, what exponential joy will I be able to enjoy that I haven’t already experienced? Is all that left, then just pain and separations and grief?

So i pile myself up with things I want to learn, because for that fleeting moment, it was fun learning a new skill, and for that moment, I could enjoy life again.

I’m tired, and learning.