When sunlight is dim and love is hate

If you know me well you’d know how big my baggage is when it comes to my mother: huge, full and very well packed - reminds me a bit of my food luggage every return trip back to the Uni.

I love her, no doubt. I just don’t like her very much.

For as much as I think I’ve come to accept her, I’ve only come to terms that I’ve been fooling myself all along.

Whether or not I admit it, her words are hurtful. I turned out this sane due to shutting out everything that was said. I refused to believe her; to acknowledge how painful the words; refused to accept them come from my very own mother.

“You have to separate logic from emotion,” I’d tell myself.

“Have your head up high, wipe out those tears, stand tall and focus. Ignore your feelings, coz it’ll just be in the way. Grow up!”

Problem is, I became amazingly good at it and couldn’t really stop. And I now realize that I ended up shutting out other things too. After years of practice, I became me.

I feel judged with my mother. And so I made a conscious effort not to judge others.

I feel unaccepted by my mother. And so I make a point to accept everyone as they are.

I feel she sets impossible standards and expectations, thus get disappointed most the time. And so I have none.

While my shutout attitude has brought me this far, it is no longer effective. I tend to take others at face value, and while this sangka baik attitude makes me non judgmental, my oblivion has also landed me a lot of shit.

Enough living in my bubble. I have suitcases to unpack.