“People you may know”, ha! The irony is not lost on me. Were you keeping this account to connect with scantily clad friends, or is this an old account you’ve forgotten the password to? I sleuthed around, and well, I think we know you didn’t forget. I don’t know why I bothered checking. These were things I already knew.
I’d already seen the messages. Your phone was pretty clear. ‘Mahal’ might mean expensive, but in this context it did not. I’d already seen the photos. Your camera was pretty clear. By no means an artistic shot, but the scene as clear as crack. I’d already heard you say it. Our lunch was pretty clear. With arguments as incredulous as Trump’s, I’d already seen your view.
I’d already talked about it, cried about it, wrote about it and moved on from it. So why am I back down here?
Your old flame added me on Facebook recently, which caught me off guard, but also made me curious. Did she want money? Why else would she reconnect, and why now? Did she add you too?
I looked for her on Facebook once, after I saw that incriminating photo of your new conquest. I’d wanted so much to connect with her kids, to ask them if they knew what I knew, to break them and make them hurt. Perhaps I’d get some sweet revenge. But some part of me empathised with her, because I blame you more than I’d ever care about her, and I was never so gutsy. Did she see me as a recommended person she might know because I searched first?
If I’m not going to tell you, I may as well tell everyone. But this crawl space is frustrating and I don’t understand why you’ve put me here. This hell should be yours, it’s not my guilt to bear.
For most of my life, I’ve been a pretty stoic person. My emotional range went from happy and content to scared and panicked.
Excitement was never a thing I thought I felt.
But I recently learnt that fear and excitement are essentially the same thing.
Fear is usually held with reservations. Excitement is held with anticipation.
Your heart races, you feel butterflies flapping wildly in your gut, your breathing intensifies, you feel a sense of heightened sensitivity as your eyes widen and you limbs quiver with anticipation. Fear or excitement?
It’s both. The only difference between fear and excitement is the way you think about it.
I’ve approached things slightly differently ever since I found out. It has made teaching my first paid teaching gigs less traumatic, even though I still get a little panicky.
Just reframing it as excitement has made it that much more exciting but I don’t know if I’m making sense as I’m typing this out and explaining it, so go read these amazing posts that explain it way better than I can.
Turn your fear into excitement so you can pursue your dreams
Are fear and excitement the same?
What’s the difference between fear and excitement?
That being said, I still struggle with showing excitement in my voice without coming across as being sarcastic. Baby steps.
Time is what keeps everything from happening at once. – Ray Cummings
We are always saying that there isn’t enough time, that life is too short. Hardly anyone ever complains about life being too long, of having too much time.
But we are its creators. We decided to count the number of sunrises and sunsets and we invented watches, clocks, calendars to keep track.
Some people never get to see the next sunrise, some never get to see the next sunset. It’s only when we’re running out that we count and realise that we’ve seen too little, we regret and lament that we never got enough time, that we should’ve gotten more – Please, please god, why me?
We created time. And how much we get depends on us. My only hope is that I would never have to say that I don’t have enough time. There is enough, if we try harder to make our time count, because counting time doesn’t seem to make things better.
The bright lights not forced upon me
Gentle glitter outside my window
The sound of stillness all around me
My silent thoughts now finding flow
Imperfections become small matter
Life is easier when you don’t see me.
An alarm goes off, it’s starting
A flurry, for coffee, it’s morning
The pressure of life, and living
Moving, climbing, the clock is ticking
I carry the weight of the day.
I guess we can all agree that life is actually really boring if we don’t keep finding new things to try. This probably accounts for everyone’s dreams of becoming a world traveller, and Singaporean foodies’ never-ending hunt for good food and stuff.
This is probably somehow related to every girl’s habit of hoarding makeup and beauty products. We’re all just looking for new experiences, new products to try, and new lessons to learn. Even if that means spending $100 on a lotion, only to find out a month later that it’s not more satisfying than the $10 product we already have because – what about that newer $30 product we haven’t tried yet? Damn you, Sephora.
I realise typing this out now that this was a very long intro to what I really mean to say – which is that I’ve started my Pilates instructor training course!
I’m hoping to be able to keep up. Everyone’s just such quick learners I feel scared of being left behind. But what’s new about that?
I was terrified of taking the entrance test to the instructor training course, nervous about the movement anatomy classes, the matwork classes, the First Aid course, and scared out of my wits teaching my first Pilates class..
I’ve just gotten out of my comfort zone about twenty times ever since I’ve started the course, but I’m still alive and so glad I took the leap. I might be afraid of a lot of things, but holy fuck I swear that fear is not going to stop me.
Yesterday was my last official day at work. It’s been a whirlwind adventure, and it swept me up in a tornado of things. There was a certain sense of autonomy but also a great sense of responsibility which crippled me.
I told myself to look at it as a challenge, but I realised after fighting for it that it wasn’t me. The industry that looked so enticing at first no longer excites me. I can only describe the disappointment in that discovery as if I figured out the trick behind the magic.
I was constantly on the lookout for the nearest escape route. I could be a librarian. I could be a barista. I could help in the family business. I could do anything I wanted, and live ten thousand different lives. The world was huge and there are other things to explore and learn.
So I decided to leave.
It was difficult because I felt like I owed it to everyone to make it work. But it became easier after I realised that it was the most responsible thing for me to do.
In Singapore, it feels like success is measured with a ruler. Being someone, somewhere, doing something big and important.
I remember writing in autograph books when I was in primary school that my wish was to be successful when I grew up.
What does that look like? I’m still searching.
The beautiful thing about being insecure is that when good things happen, it feels as though the entire universe is working in your favour.
The ugly part about insecurity is that when good things happen, you attribute it to the universe’s alignment and other external factors that undermine your good work.
But it’s okay to do that, it’ll just help you get even better at what you do and it will help you stay real. Just remember to come up for air every once in a while.
Right now as I’m writing this, it is perfectly okay for me to tell people that I’m 25. Because I am. If I did that in a couple of hours – I’d seem like I was embarrassed about my age. That’s nuts.
It’s perfectly normal to feel like it’s an issue when it isn’t, but we’ll get used to being our new age and telling people what that number is. But I usually forget and it catches me off-guard when someone asks. I’ll think for a second or two but it won’t mean anything when I say the number out loud.
But then you get to the number 30. And you panic and freak out because where did the years go?
That’s what happened to my 25th year. So this year, I’m going to be 26 to the best of my ability to prevent that from happening. #YouAreOnly26ForOneYear
No it’s not my birthday here. But this photo makes me happy and I thought it’d fit the theme.
For someone who’s led a really passive, sedentary lifestyle, I really didn’t think I’d suddenly get the whole fitness thing. Sure, I’ve looked at Fitspo posts and images on Tumblr, and I get it – skinny girls look good in clothes and fit girls look good naked. But did I want to burn calories by getting wet and sweaty and gross?
In my head I thought that if I started working out regularly, I’d need to continue working out forever, and really, who needs that burden?
Ha! If you could only see me now. I don’t yet own enough muscles to impress anyone but ask me again in a few months.
There is no shame whatsoever to admit that I am embarrassed being me sometimes. Most of the time.
I should start by saying that my eating habits have taken a turn for the worse – I’ve been working from home and eating the junk that’s lying about the house.
So when Clif and I attended a trial session at a Gymnastic Strength Training class today that’s affiliated to my Pilates studio and next door to where I usually do my sweating, you can imagine that I had no idea what was in store for my empty stomach.
10 minutes into the training I was done. My throat was dry and I was getting nauseous. The instructors checked in with me to see if I was okay and I excused myself to get some water.
You should know that I didn’t make it back.