Day 84

What I feel like saying. 

Rejection.

Asian families value closeness of families living together more than the Europeans and Americans. I mean, most young adults move away from their parents towards their newly found freedom and way of life once they reached 18 and above. 

In Asia, we still live with our families even after we got married. Not necessarily under one roof, can be nearby. 

Growing up with my mom leading us siblings, we were very close. Though we fought a lot (me and my brother)… There was some kind of bond between us and our mom. Perhaps because we were together through thick and thin. 

When mom remarried, we were promised that we will stay together or at least near one another in same country. But alas, that was not meant to be. My mom migrated with my stepdad. And we, though no longer young, were left behind. 

Somehow, I felt betrayed. And I decided to move on by searching for my own “family”. Yes, I got married. 

But, little did I knew, the broken heart within attracted another. I felt I was rejected by my stepfather (and his family esp his mom) and when I got married, I was also rejected by my mother in law. 

I never truly felt belonged anywhere. 

Those searing pain never did get healed. I just buried them inside.

Because of that, though we never spoke much about our past together, and it seems that we were still close, but something deep inside changed.

I was already labeling myself as the rejected child since birth eversince male gender was preferred over me.

But I never knew that this label stick till I’m twenty plus and beyond. I was often not accepted by my own family and others. And I’m tired of trying.

There were many rejection stories but this one stood out for now… 

I once saved up my hard earned money from part time work to buy my step uncle in Holland a beautiful present (beautiful to me, cos I took almost a week just to browse the malls and it was not cheap if you earn meagre dollars per hour) . 

And Because mom told me that she had very little space for me in her luggage for gifts, I rolled it up like a ball and wrapped it.. 

Thinking happily, hoping that, my uncle will be surprised. Because the shape is unlike a shirt. 

But ended up, the gift was not only rejected but were made fun of, in front of others. They called it a rag to wipe debris. 

I took it personally and felt like they were rejecting me and my gift. They knew not what I put in to the gift. I put heart in it. 

And I also recognised that I was doing my best to be accepted by the new family. 

That was also the reason why I gave up thinking of creative ways to surprise people. I asked them directly what they want, no element of surprise needed. 

What’s the moral of the story?

Erm, many I can think of. But the gem of every experience shared can only be unfolded according to the readers’ own experience and perspective. 

For me now…

Family does not necessarily mean those connected to us by blood or legal bond… 

Family meant our tribe. 

Someone who accepts us unconditionally and be there, cheering, supporting and be witnesses to our lives thru good, bad and awesome seasons of our lives. 

No matter how hard and challenging it can be, they never falter. They will always be there for you. 

I was naive. I always believed that all people are good. And because of that, I tend to sugarcoat everything I experienced. 

Never knew they see things differently than me (back then) .

And no point bringing them over to my side, if they don’t want to. Let them be.

If they are not good receiver of love, so be it. If they are not good receiver of gifts, so be it. Find someone who is open to receiving. Or focus on those who wants what you are giving.

I don’t understand why this huge needy urge of wanting to belong made me so blind … That I accept others who were not worthy, to be in my tribe. 

It took me years to learn but I knew now that Belonging to self and belonging to the Creator is enough  

Lesson learnt.

Love,

Lina.