As an Asian, things are expected from you. More so than, I believe, westerns. That is for Asian families who hold dearly to old traditions. My family is one of them.
In the past few weeks I’ve began to learn more about myself; more about my past. Why things happened or why they didn’t happen.
As I always tried to be more than everybody else, I always felt like less: not enough. Being an A-student, I could have everything I desire. I could have the most expensive things, even though I knew it was only because my family wanted to stimulate me to go to school. They wanted to motivate me. As if I wasn’t.
I’ve always been aware of my family’s situation; we were different, in any aspect from other families. Not only because we were foreign and thought differently. We were poor. In the sense of not having enough money to go on holiday, having to live with 6 people in one house with 3 bedrooms. I knew that and I wanted to do everything to just get out of that situation. And I still do.
I used to constantly complain about why we had to move. Wondering whether life could really be better if we had stayed. But knowing complaining won’t get me far, I’ve stopped doing that and finally accept the way how it is. For me to someday live the life I want, I have to work. That simple.
But work to one day be what? A doctor, a lawyer! That is what every Asian family wants their children to be. The more I grew up, the more I tried to break free from that clingy feeling I’d get of everybody wanting and expecting me to be what they want: a doctor or lawyer. It’s almost castrophobic, I can’t seem to breathe easily and I feel like trapped.
As an Asian woman, you should stay at home as much as possible as well. There’s your husband and kids to take care of, families for you to give attention to and people you don’t really know, but try to impress somehow by showing them you’ve got the perfect home.
I’ve taken drastic decisions, just to take chances and maybe scare my family a bit and prove them wrong; I can be more without having to be a doctor. Nor do I ever want to stay at home and be just a wife. I seriously considered to become an executive, working behind the scenes. A job that is only available for those who would truly want to work for it. After that, I wanted to become a journalist. Writing the most awesome articles and witnessing the most dangerous happenings.
I was almost there. I got it all planned out and I knew exactly how to handle it.
But then, like my common sense had struck me, I suddenly drifted away from that idea. I did not want to be a journalist: it was far too risky for me. I had it all planned out, but as a journalist, nothing is planned out. There’s always something happening, that is out of your control and you just have to be there and make sure you report it.
No. I like to have control. Control over my work, my ways and my life.
How ironical it is to see how I’ve desperately avoided to become anything, but the Asian stereotype and end up wanting to become a businesswoman. Something that also falls into the category of the Asian stereotype: business and economics.
I don’t know why, but somehow it just attracts me. Though having that secure control of your work, knowing I will always have a chance at a job, the somewhat uncertain aspect of traveling everywhere for business meetings and speak foreign languages at your best makes me feel tingly inside. Like butterflies, actually. Control, yet challenge: exactly what I’ve been wanting all my life.
Nothing Or Forever 