Empathy

Empathy. The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines it as the ability to share someone else's feelings.

     I want to be an empathetic person. But sometimes, I find it hard to take the view of someone else, especially when I don't agree with that person's opinions. For example, the debate on equal rights for LGBTQ+, or pro-choice vs pro-life. I will proudly declare that I am an advocate for equal rights for those in the LGBTQ+ community and I am pro-choice. 

     Of course, I understand that there are people who don't advocate for the LGBTQ+ community (not that they're against equal rights, but they're in a neutral position) or those who are pro-life. I find it hard to take their stand. To empathize with them. 

     I believe that it's alright to hold your views as long as you don't impose them on other people. But sometimes there's the issue that some people believe you should impose your beliefs on others and others who disagree. So how exactly can I live my life and be respectful of the different views of others? 

     How can I be empathetic? Am I empathetic enough? My mind's a mess right now.

Parenting

Recently, my friends and I were having a discussion on having children and adoption. Two of my friends asked me, on separate occasions, if I didn't get married, would I consider adoption. For a moment, I was puzzled. I don't see marriage and adoption as mutually exclusive dichotomies. Thus, I was perplexed by the way the question was phrased. But I had to remind myself that many people still hold conservative values and believe that raising their own flesh and blood is preferable to raising someone else's child.
A part of me does not want to be a parent. I have written extensively on this subject in my journals. The world is such a messed up place with terrible things happening everywhere. Why on earth would I want to bring another life into misery? Why would I want to subject another being to the dangers lurking the earth? Why would I want to raise a girl in a society that will bombard her with the message that she will never be enough, that she is nothing but a sexual object, that she will be blamed if she falls victim to some kind of sexual assault? Why would I want to raise a boy in a society that tells him he cannot express his feelings freely, that he has to be physically stronger than girls and that he needs to earn more money than girls? Why would I want to raise children in a society that imposes gender roles on them, discriminates people for the pigments in their skin and tells them that life is unfair, they just have to accept it?
I know, far too well, that I do not want to have my own biological children. But lately, I have been contemplating adoption. Because despite how I feel about raising children, I love children. I love spending time with them and teaching them things. It's complicated. I don't want to have my own children because I think I'd love them too much to put them through this screwed up world. But a child without a parent is another story. This child is already in this world. This child should be raised in a loving supportive environment in order for this child to have the best outcomes in life.
But even then, will I be able to make a good parent? And what exactly is a good parent? What values do I wish to impart to my child? There's still so many things I need to consider.

Faith and other things

If anyone asks me, I will tell them that I'm not a believer of any particular religion. If I'm not close to this person, or I am under the assumption that the person will begin a religious debate with me if he/she is not satisfied with my answer, I will say that I'm a free thinker. An agnostic. But truthfully? While I do identify as an agnostic, I also identify myself as an atheist. I don't usually tell people that because the last thing I want to do is spark a theological debate that can last for at least an hour. (Been there, done that.)

I was raised in a Christian family. For 18 years of my life, I went to church, worshipped the idea of god and Jesus. For a very long period of time I never questioned my religion. I never asked why are we doing all of this?  I was aware of the contradictions in the Bible, but I believed the slipshod excuses for these contradictions present. The message of one sermon could contradict another sermon and the lines were blurred sometimes, but I still followed nevertheless. I let confirmation bias rule my thoughts when it came to religion.

The questions begin to start when I was 17. Why are you doing this? What proof is there? Is this reason even valid?It was then that I began to feel that going to church was a chore. At that point of time, I had felt like "god" was no longer with me. I felt like what I was going through was what Christians would term a "dry season".  I began to dread it every week. And it was due to this dread, the lack of emotional highs, that I began to question everything I knew about Christianity.
I began to see that the circular debates and loopholed arguments for what they truly were. I began to see that emotions are easily manipulated and I couldn't trust my gut to tell me whether god was there or not. And so I left.

The second most common question asked to me when people learn that I left church (The most common one is: Why?) was this: How do you feel after leaving church? I felt both ecstatic and frightened. Ecstatic because I was no longer trapped in this mundane cycle that I detested and loathed. No longer bound by the rules of the religions I no longer believed in. But I felt frightened too. Having been raised in an environment that instilled in me the belief that non-believers go to hell, that notion stuck with me far longer than I wanted it to. I had nightmares of being the target of a witchhunt for backsliders. I spent so much time wondering if I was really going to hell. It took me a while to finally get that notion out of my head and I'm so relieved that it's finally gone.

That was a dark part of leaving, but overall, I'm glad for that nasty experience. Because it taught me empathy. Before that experience, I never believed that the environment one grew up in could affect a person to a large extent. When I read of cases of physical or sexual abuse in the newspapers and it was mentioned that the perpetrator had once been a victim, I would snub the fact that the perpetrator had the cheek to mention it. Despite his background, he should still obey the law. No matter what. But now I know, environment can really determine how a person behaves. I began to see how I used to behave as a Christian, aggressively trying to impose my values on others who were non believers. Trying to get people to convert to Christianity. It's such an embarrassing part of my life because I lacked respect for other religions and values. I lacked empathy for others. Now, I see how disrespectful my behaviour was. And I see how context really matters. Because the values you were raised in affect your behaviour. And when these values aren't congruent with the law, clashes will arise.

Decision making

  Just recently, I got myself a ticket for a solo trip. My first solo trip from start to finish, for my 21st birthday. I booked it on an airline that my parents don't have a very good impression of. As I already said, it's going to be a solo trip, something my parents aren't too keen on me doing. I know because I was almost going to do it during my 20th birthday, but they dissuaded me from doing it. I decided to listen to them, because the arguments they made then were logical and on hindsight, I think it was a good thing I didn't go. Half a year of living overseas has taught me so much more about planning trips, budgeting, getting used to cold climates etc. Had I gone during my 20th, I might have been ill-prepared for the trip.

  Initially, I was hesitant about booking it because I guess a part of me is still used to seeking approval from my parents before I do things. I asked my friends about the airline and I was just hesitating about booking the ticket.
Then, I talked to a friend and that conversation helped me realize that I have to stop seeking permission. I am an adult already. That means that the decision maker of my life is me. I have to stop seeking approval and getting other people to make decisions for me. From now on, decision making is my responsibility.

  So I readied myself to book. I filled in all the required details. I was apprehensive about clicking the "CHECKOUT" button. The thoughts: "Should I? Should I not?" kept popping up in my head. Then I took a deep breath, told myself "no regrets" and clicked the button.

  Hello, adulthood.

Language

I've noticed that society tends to have a negative view of using certain choice words. Words that, for some reason, cannot be used by children. Words that invoke a sudden silence once uttered. Expletives, vulgarities are just some of the words used to describe this category of words. But why are these couple of words, out of the hundreds and thousands of words deemed inappropriate for use? If language is a tool for one to express oneself, why is it that some parts of the tool cannot be used even when those parts are in perfect working condition? I have no qualms about using these so called "vulgarities" because I don't see them as taboo. I see them as words that I can use to express my emotions and states. I don't use them recklessly, for words carry meaning and I don't wish to commit multiple malapropisms. I choose my words carefully. I don't like to exaggerate, nor do I like to give unwarranted praise/criticism. But I mean my words. Every one of them. That could also be why people may think that I read into things too much. But it's just automatic.

But I digress. Yesterday, I was really frustrated with myself, stressed out and I said fuck. Which was normal. But what was weird was how my friends said, "That's the first time I heard you swear." But I don't understand. Why is it that this one word will cause my friends to stop and take notice(and silently disapprove), whereas other words are fine. Why do we criminalise words? What is the use of a tool if it cannot be maximised to its fullest potential?

So many questions, but I know I won't be getting many answers today. These questions aren't easy ones to answer. Because sometimes, there is no answer. Or the answer could very well be that these words are deemed taboo and nobody has dared to question them. Or those who did have not been able to convince the majority of society otherwise. 

That's just my two cents.

Integration

Since moving here, I've been attempting to integrate with the locals here. Honestly, I didn't try very hard at the start of this semester and a part of me regrets it. I gave it more effort after about a month of school but it's not going according to my expectations. Maybe I have high standards for myself, like, I have to admit, I'm keeping a count of how many local friends I have. Or maybe I'm really not that integrated yet. Anyway, I shan't waste any more time regretting. Lesson learnt: Be proactive and move out of my comfort zone.

It was difficult to make new friends initially because I had my Singaporean friends to fall back on. They are always hanging out together and it's just too easy to spend most of your time with them because they have so much in common with you. It felt daunting to venture out of that group and start talking to new people, unsure of whether they'd even be interested in a chance of friendship with me. After all, to some of them, I am just a short, average looking Asian who speaks with a accent. Some of them get the misguided impression I can't speak English well. [Note: I'm not putting myself down. I'm just verbalizing what I think they think. Because let's face it, racism exists.] I didn't think about it but I think I should address this issue here because it's everywhere. Racism. I've had people shout at me from cars, honk really loud at me when I was literally doing nothing, but standing on the pavement, not obstructing anyone's way. It doesn't happen often, but it happens. In school, people usually assume that English is not my first language and they have to ask me if it is, but not my Caucasian counterparts. I've had people tell me that I speak English well. At the start, I took it as a compliment. But then I realised, it wasn't. It was just a more subtle form of racism. The person who said it had no ill intention, but the notion that Asians usually can't speak English well was ingrained in her. Racism is everywhere and I think I've become way more conscious of it since coming here because I'm the one discriminated against. I'm made to feel uncomfortable in my own skin simply because of its colour. In Singapore, being the race of the majority, I would point out to people if they were being racist against other races, but I didn't feel very strongly about the issue. I could never truly empathize with them. Until I came here. Now I know what it means to be unfairly treated for something superficial, that I have no control over. I don't think one can ever understand racism until they experience it. But in a nutshell, it sucks, it's extremely unfair and it shouldn't even exist. It's illogical to hold inferior or superior views of people because of their skin colour. I don't really know how else to describe what I feel about it at the present moment. Maybe I'll write another post about this.

Anyway, I digress. So as I was saying, it was difficult to try and make new friends and "abandon" my old ones. But the friendships that I've made so far have been promising and enriching. I'm learning more and more about their culture and lifestyles. A number of people asked me if I have "an angmoh accent" now. And that's the thing I want to talk about. Accents. Everyone has an accent. It just depends on to whom you're speaking to. The fact that I had an accent never really hit me until I came here. Spending all my life in Singapore, my speech sounds the same as that of my peers. There was never a problem with communication then. Then I came here and not only was it sometimes difficult for me to catch what people around me were saying, it was difficult for them them to understand me sometimes too. To them, I'm the one with the accent, not them. It's still hard for me to acknowledge that I have an accent. Theoretically, I know I have an accent, just like everyone else in the world. But somehow, it feels weird to say, "I have an accent. Please let me know if you need me to repeat what I say." Additionally, it is NOT that easy to pick up an accent. I wish it were. I will admit, I speak differently to the locals here and to my Singaporean friends. I'm trying to learn the accent, but it's not easy because I've practiced speaking like a Singaporean for 20 years. I can't just speak like an Australian after 4 months of listening to their speech. It's kind of annoying when everyone keeps asking me because it's a constant reminder of how badly I'm failing at it. 

On the flip side, I know of people who staunchly speak with their native accent by choice. They say that their native accent is no better nor worse than the Australian accent. (Something that all linguists would agree with. No language is more superior than another.) They're proud of their native accent and they will continue to use it. I can understand where they are coming from. I think they are brave to do it. But somehow, I don't think I can do what they do. Although in theory, all accents are equal, in reality, your accent affects how others see you. The moment I open my mouth and the words I say don't sound like how the locals pronounce it, I'm not considered a local, but an Asian who probably can't speak good English. Even my linguistics tutor admitted that he marks our (non-native) scripts more leniently than that of the locals because he assumes that we speak poor English. The accent really makes a difference in how people perceive me. I guess that's why I want to learn the Australian accent. So that I face one less count of discrimination here. 

I'm twenty and still single

As a twenty-year-old with most friends around the same age, I'm seeing more and more of my friends meeting people they're romantically inclined towards, going on dates, getting attached. Meanwhile, my relationship status has stayed the same since I was born. Single. Never been in a serious relationship before, never been even asked on a date before.

I have to admit, I do love being single. I love the freedom I have as a single person. I have one less person I need to account to compared to my friends in relationships. I spend less money because I'm not always going out. I don't need to spend on gifts for anniversaries. The list goes on.

But being single has its ups and downs. I have to admit, I do feel lonely sometimes. When my friends get attached or asked out on dates, I feel genuinely happy for them. But another part of me will wonder, is there something wrong with me? Why is it that they get asked out, but I don't?

Sometimes, I wish that I would be asked out on dates. But the only reason I want that to happen is so that I will feel validated. That I'm not that terrible a person. That it is possible for someone to like me. The fact that I've never been asked out before stings. I have a love-hate relationship with romantic movies. I wish that I could have what the characters in the movie have, but I hate how they have it and I don't.

But deep down, I know, theoretically, that I don't need validation from anyone. I am strong, independent, confident and so much more. I don't need a partner to tell me that I am all that. I would say that I have a healthy relationship with myself. I love who I am and I accept that I'm growing and learning. I have accepted that I can't ever please everyone and so I have stopped bothering about what other people think of me. Most times, I am very single and very happy about it..

But every now and then, feelings of loneliness will emerge. I might spend time questioning my self. Wondering "what's wrong" with me. And that's ok. It's normal to question, it's normal to be down. Ultimately, I am still growing as a person and I am still learning to accept myself completely.

I'm single. Sometimes, I get lonely. But that's ok. It really is.