A Moment to Remember

M went for a 2-day regional meeting in Bangkok so I am home alone in Hanoi. I kind of understand how he feels now when he's alone here. There's hardly any sounds at all. I mean, you don't really speak to yourself right? Guess this quietness makes it unbearable for him sometimes, which is why he always asks me to stay in Hanoi with him. :)

I haven't been doing much in the last 2 days though. Didn't go to the gym as I wasn't feeling too good. So I spent my time gaming, surfing net and watching TV. I managed to catch a Korean movie that I have wanted to watch for a while. I am not a typical Korean drama nor movie fan but I heard that this movie "A Moment to Remember" was good, so I watched it.

The story is about a young girl (played by Son Ye Jin) who fell in love with a carpenter from her father's company. They got married and the girl found that her memory was failing her badly. Sometimes, she could not recall the way home. She decided to consult a doctor and was diagnosed with Alzheimer disease. Realising that there was no cure, she decided to leave her husband before she forgot him. He eventually found her at a hospital and decided to evoke her memory by bringing her to where they first met. He succeeded though both of them knew that her memory would only last for one day. The next morning, she would not be able to remember anything again.

What struck me most was the frustration, anger and love both characters and their families displayed in the process. For instance, the girl would call her husband by the name of her ex-boyfriend, which griefed him because he was no longer sure whether he held a place in her heart. But the moment she remembered him, she would write him letters to convey and reassure her love for him. She couldn't feel the love from her family nor her husband because her memory was failing. Yet her family stood by her, offered to take care of her and tried to help her recall her past.

A wonderful and touching story which reminds me once again to treasure my family and be thankful for being able to relish the love from them.

A Piece of Happy News

My brother finally received his "A" level results yesterday. It's so funny but I couldn't eat my lunch till I heard his results (I think I am worse than my mum!). And the moment I heard, I burst into tears. He was like "Aiyoh... zeh, don't cry leh. Why are you crying? Calm down.. calm down... Wah.. you are so proud of me ar?" before chuckling over the phone. He did very well.. but to me, that was secondary.

When my brother was preparing for his "A" levels last year, something serious happened in my family which affected him badly. Though I was of little help, I flew back to Singapore for three weeks to be with him. During this time, my brother displayed another side of him that I never knew. He picked himself up as much as he could and tried to channel his energy on his exams. I think he handled the situation much better than me! It was then that I realised he was no longer the little boy whom I often teased (we are 12 years apart). He's evolved into a teenager who's able to differentiate the right from wrong and make decisions independently.

To my dear Brother:
Those tears that I shed yesterday (and kena laughed by you) were tears of joy. It's not because of your results, which are really good by the way, but rather the strength you displayed earlier. Thank you for putting aside your feelings then to comfort Ma.. and to "counsel" your stubborn Xiao Zeh Zeh.. Thank you for hearing my gripes despite the tight schedule you had in preparing for your "A" levels... and Thank you for being so understanding and encouraging when I had to come back to Hanoi..

Honestly, no matter what your results were, I would have been equally happy and proud of you.

Self Worth v2

I have been receiving emails and notes from friends after my earlier post on "Self Worth". They were very open in sharing their concerns and own experiences of being a SHW (stay-home-wife) during their overseas stints. It's quite interesting and heartwarming to hear from them, and definitely delightful (Yes!) to know that there are wives like me around!

Phase 1
One thing that surprised me was most wives go through what I am going through now, which I will term as "Phase 1". This is the demoralising stage where you deem that your world has fallen, having made the world biggest sacrifice for your husband by giving up EVERYTHING. Expectations start running high. We demand for more attention from our other halves.. more time.. more tolerance and patience. Tantrums are to be expected.. Holidays or shopping trips are part of the package.. The occasional emotional outbreaks are to be endured or pacified. When this does not happen, we throw in the ultimatum of "I am suffering now all because of you, you know! You better treat me better!"

There will come the occasional regrets where we resolve to be better wives and stop the tantrums. But these positive thoughts don't last long.. and soon, we are back into the monstrous moods. The vicious cycle then repeats itself...

Self-Created Phase 1?
For some wives, the "Phase 1" is a short or almost non-existent process. I have seen them for myself. These are people whom we commonly term "tai tais" in a derogatory manner but I have come to see them with a renewed sense of respect. As S shared with me, while the tai tais' lives resolve around their husbands', they have never allowed their sense of self-worth to be eroded. They love themselves for who they are and are willing to play secondary financial roles in the family for the sake of their husbands' careers. They learn to adapt quickly after each relocation and build their social networks at an amazing speed.

Are they truly happy? My answer would be "yes". So why can't I be the same? This is something that I have been grappling with for a while and S summarised it perfectly. It's because being Singaporeans, we are so used to defining ourselves on specific moulds. The common Singaporeans' ideal of a successful woman is:

Successful woman = Financial Independence + Good Career + Loving Family

Our social image is not based solely on ourselves i.e. who we are. It's masked by factors such as career (position in the organisation, entrepreneurship), financial capability (house, car, handbags, etc), and family (loving husbands, clever children, doting in-laws). When we introduce ourselves to others, it's always, "Hi, I am XXX. I work in XXX as XXX. My husband is XXX. He's in XXX organisation. I have two kids. They are studying in XXX." It comes naturally to us, with no intent of showing off. Rather, we consider all these as part of "us".

When part of this external shell is removed (e.g. career), we become vulnerable. We think that our existence is no longer valued by others and lose our self-confidence. Should this be the case? Is this a real problem or self-created issue?

Self-Image of A Professional Tai Tai
Coming back to the "professional tai-tais", their views are very different. They anchor themselves strongly to their families and take pride in playing their "housekeeper" roles well. They believe that their husbands are happy only if they are happy, and that their sacrifices are appreciated by their families. Most importantly, they see themselves as no less capable than fellow counterparts with successful careers + large pay packets. To them, it's all a matter of choice. They have chosen to be with their families and give up their careers. Despite the "losses", they are determined to make the most of the "gains", such as more time to pursue personal interests or new activities, more time for friends, etc. These are adaptable people who will be happy wherever they go.

Reflection
What about myself? I realised I might have created too many imaginary inhibitions that hinders me from being truly happy. As SL probed me this morning, what's stopping me from being happy in Hanoi? Is it really the place or slower pace of life, or "me" myself? Is the loss of my career affecting me badly or my perceived loss of social identity? Why can't I be comfortable knowing people as who I am, flesh and skin? What's wrong with being known as Mrs M when I know very well who I am?

I guess it boils down to one's self-confidence. I refer to SL, my ex-manager. She gave up her career in my previous organisation to come to Hanoi for missionary work. Through learning the language and embracing the culture, she enjoyed herself so much and Hanoi is now her home. I met her this morning and could tell she is genuinely happy. Throughout our conversation, I realised that not once was she bothered by the fact that her career is non-existent and she is not as financially secure as before. When she was sharing with her life in Hanoi e.g. daily activities such as biking around town, making cheesecakes at home and travelling around Vietnam, she displayed the same confidence that I saw when she used to make corporate presentations. This is one lady who does not care what others thought of her because she has always known people as who she truly is.

My mum is another example. Having left the corporate world for more than 30 years, I often asked her whether she felt her sacrifice was worth it? Her answer was always a resolute "yes". To her, looking after her three children was never a demeaning job. Instead, she draws joy and pride from us. Her self-confidence is never anchored on her children's results nor careers. Rather, it's her evaluation of how successful she was in moulding our characters. This is why she was never once bothered by the fact that I am now jobless. Instead, she always reassures me that she's proud of me for having the courage to follow M to a different country. And she's proud of me for always thinking about her despite being far away. Amazing, isn't it? A mum who is so enlightened in life has to endure with a super-materialistic daughter aka ME.

Next Step?
Realisation is the first step. The next is asking whether I want to evolve into one of these happy enlightened souls? Frankly, I am not sure. It will be an ardous task melting my current "mould" of a successful ME and recasting a new one. I will continue to think about this, that's all I can promise to myself.

Perhaps there will come a day I will feel natural "unpackaged". By then, I will call myself a tru-blue, proud and happy "tai tai" and not feel a teeny-weeny bit ashamed.