For some of you who may not know me personally, my gap year seemed like I was constantly thriving. Behind the adventures, the soul-searching, and the spiritual growth, though, was turmoil. This was a time in my life where I had returned from studying abroad. My family, in my absence, had held on to a version of who I used to be. They projected their expectations, their beliefs, their values onto me, and that’s where we clashed. Several fights surrounding my decisions, my direction in life escalated and left me seeking safety and security elsewhere.
Just as I had to redefine myself in Singapore, so did I have to do the same here in the Philippines. My identity was so deeply entrenched in belonging to the UWCSEA community. I had to learn the hard way that attaching myself to fleeting things always ended in grieving their impermanence.
I won’t get into the nitty gritty of our quarrels. The only thing I have to say is that my parents’ generation were never taught the emotional awareness and intelligence my generation has. And that this intergenerational difference made it difficult to clearly convey buried feelings. I realised that anger was a secondary emotion that tends to hide others such as jealousy, sorrow, disappointment, bitterness, and more. I internalised my parents’ anger for a really long time before I could tell myself that it was a reflection of their inability to process emotions healthily, of their lack of guidance to do so. I had to have empathy for their inner child the same way I do for myself.
For so long, I had bathed in the misery of knowing I wasn’t accepted wholeheartedly by them. But I asked myself if I even accepted them with the whole of my heart. And the answer was that I wanted them to be different, to love me in the way I needed to be loved. My parents aren’t mind readers. Neither was I. The main takeaway from all of our fights was that we were all speaking, yet not listening. Gradually, we learned to communicate things more calmly, to listen attentively. We’re still not perfect, but we’re trying our best as humans. Still, there are things I would like to tell them in the future that I know would disappoint them. Such is the nature of life, of relationships between parents and their offspring.
Going against the grain is never easy. Uprooting traditions and norms requires courage and fortitude. The question I had kept asking myself from then till now is: “Will I disappoint myself or will I disappoint others?”
Quarrelling is tiring. But if it weren’t for these chaotic moments, my parents wouldn’t know the person I am today. I would still be living inside the shell of who they thought me to be.
I used to envy those who lived in more individualistic societies. They didn’t have to resist so much to exist in a space with so many others. However, the support from my family, and the fulfilment I get from a community does affirm my need for balance. To be rooted in the essence of what makes me Amanda, while being part of something larger than myself.
Every Christmas, I always have high expectations of how I want the holiday to go. I constantly my family’s way of celebrating paled in comparison to other families. This year was the exception. Having been in Dumaguete for four months (in less than desirable circumstances), I missed home. This yearning for a soft ground to fall gnawed at me more than being stranded in Singapore’s strict lockdown.
And this year was my favourite thus far. We all slept in early. Enjoyed the cozy weather indoors. Cooked meals together nearly everyday. Watched Avatar 2: The Way of Water. Conversed about life. The rich simplicity of being in the present moment beat any grandiose party or extravagant gift that the world could offer.
We also went on a road trip to Bacolod where we ate a lot and thought of ways to entertain one another on such a long ride. They helped me move to my new apartment, assisting me in transferring my things and cleaning up the place. I couldn’t ask for a better break to recharge and reground.
May we all find people who feel like home. Family. Friends. Lovers. Ourselves. May this be a year of falling deeper into awareness, intention, and compassion. Remember that everything is a work in progress.
For those who struggle with their own respective flesh and blood, my heart is with you. Whether or not time will resolve things, know that you are loved, you are worthy, and nothing external will ever dictate that. Family is not defined by the blood you share; but the willingness to see one another clearly, and love them unconditionally, regardless of what they see.
Happy New Year.
Always,
Amanda
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