Shedding Tears

“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. 

But you have to stop sooner or later, 

and then you still have to decide what to do.” 

― C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair

Source: Google Images

I grew up as many others did, shaped and molded by the values instilled by parents. As children, my brother and I were quick to learn that crying gets us nowhere. When children throw tantrums in public, they cry angrily and cause a commotion, hoping their parents cave in due to embarrassment. When children want to give up on a challenge, they cry out of self-pity, to get their parents to sympathize. 

Our parents were strict in teaching us that crying was no way to get what you wanted. When you cry, the only person you're embarrassing is yourself; because all my parents did when we ever shed a tear for purposes of persuasion was ignore us completely. That, obviously, made us feel extremely silly and immature, and it was a great method of shutting us up. We never used our tears to get our own ways after that.

Clearly, this is something many parents envied. "Wah, your children seldom cry ah?" other parents ask. My parents will then proceed to explain that crying is only attended to if we got physically hurt, or emotionally disturbed. Many a time our genuine tears have welcome kind words and reassuring hugs from our parents. Somehow, they just know if our tears were for real. The fact that we never cried just to get our way made our parents' lives way easier, and also pushed us to handle our emotions in a steady way, never crying just for show. I believe this made my brother and I slightly stoic, as some of our friends may testify, helping us gain the terms 'poker face' or 'heart of stone' as our personality descriptions. 

This never affected me; in fact, I looked at my ability to hold my tears well with admiration. I prided myself in being able to not cry at sad movies with dying dogs, I prided myself in being able to not cry at friends' farewells, and I occasionally found myself mocking those who shed their tears so easily. "Pfft, these people. Weaklings."

But growing up through the hormonal, teenage years and finding myself being buried under responsibilities in various organisations (like church, college, work, etc.), I recently found tears on my cheeks a little more regularly than I would like. I broke down under huge workloads, I broke down under broken friendships, I broke down under desperate situations. I broke down, and I totally hated myself for that. In my mind, I saw myself weakening, succumbing to tear-shedding and self-pity. Things became worse when I even cried once or twice in front of others. 

Because of how I was raised, in a way, I always saw crying as a negative thing. Crying is bad, crying gets you nowhere, crying only shows self-pity. Crying makes you a weak person and crying means you've given up. Of course, my parents never ever intended to instill these kinds of values in me, but having twisted their pure teachings into my own, society-pressured ideas, I viewed crying as the ultimate loser move. I disliked the fact that I cry so easily now.

But here's me, trying to tell you that crying really does get you nowhere, in a practical sense. I mean, if you broke a bowl and spilt soup all over your kitchen floor, crying isn't really going to clean up that mess, is it? If anything, it'll make your mess worse! However, as I am slowly journeying in self-discovery and handling my emotions, I have good news for myself. 

I now realise that from experience, shedding tears have always meant something good was going to happen. It meant that now I am no longer bound by pressure, no longer bound by stress, but I am admitting that I have way too much on my plate, and letting it all go at once. Trust me, after a good cry, I am nowhere as irritable as before. It's the accumulated stress that always causes me to be uptight and moody, and I usually find a flip in my emotional state after having some tears spill over. And it is always this crying that helps me realise I am not as great as I think I am, and helps me map out a solution to my problems. 

Most importantly, it is this crying that brings out the vulnerable part of me, totally knocking me down to my knees and literally crying out to the One above who continues to shower me with His love and grace, mending my wounds again and again. If that's not good, then what could it be? 

Because, honestly, tears were created by God, and they were put there for a reason. Tears are a part of life after all.

"A time to weep and a time to laugh,

 a time to mourn and a time to dance” 

 - Ecclesiastes 3:4 -

Goodbye, grandma.

At 5:20pm on Thursday, the twentieth of August 2015, my grandma breathed her last and moved on from this earth. I was there to watch her take her final gasp of air. My heart was thudding incredibly fast as we all waited for her to take her next breath. There was none. Her lips stopped moving and silence rang through her own room. At least her wish was fulfilled: she passed away in her own bed.

This post is written to celebrate the life of my grandma, the person I call Mama. She was a strong person, undefeated in all of life's obstacles, coming out in triumph at the end. She was loving, kind, generous, so much so that she was friends with everybody. She gave, and gave, and gave, like the most selfless person on earth. She was thoughtful. She was goodhearted. She was all-round amazing.

Mama had a wonderful sense of humour. I remember once we were at a fancy international buffet for Mother's Day, and I wasn't sitting at her table. I was sitting with my brother. She casually walked over, and whispered to both of us with a smile, 'Make sure you eat as much of these expensive food as you can, because it's not going to fill your stomach at all,' then casually walked away. I remember one time she put on an oversized hoodie with a crazy hardcore symbol on the front, raised her hands, formed her hands into the metal sign, and asked for a photo to be taken. I remember one time during our annual Christmas party, she wore my cousin's belly dance skirt and started belly dancing in front of all of us, sending us into fits of laughter. My aunts, uncles and father all have a wacky sense of humour, and I see they all got it from their mother.

To the rest of my family: during this time we will go through much grief. We will eventually carry on with our lives, but occasionally a pang will hit us so hard, our hearts will physically hurt. But we will be strong together, and we will be there for each other. Let's continue gathering regularly and strengthen the bond we already have. And let's all remember that Mama will forever be in our hearts, and that we will forever be in hers. She loves us very much, and she still does, right there in heaven watching over us being one big, happy family.

Mama, we love you, we will miss you very very much. Thank you for every single thing you have done for this family, because without you, we would all turn out very differently. I thank God for you because you have been such a blessing in our lives. I'm sorry if I never spent as much time with you as you wanted, but know that deep down I love you very, very much.

Mama, I'm graduating college this Saturday. I appreciate how every single year you attend my primary school awards day and also my high school graduation. This will be the first time you are not there to watch me go on stage for my academic achievements. I hope that wherever you are, you will see me and I will make you proud.

Goodbye, grandma, and see you again one day.

It beeps.

She is peppered with questions and told the most unrelated things. The time now is seven at night, it didn't rain today, your heartbeat looks good, you're going home soon, today is Monday. She nods every time, but says nothing. 

She gets asked a question. She nods yes. She gets asked another one. She shakes her head no. Then an open-ended question comes her way. She doesn't nod or shake her head...because she wants to answer. She gestures to the plastic piece of equipment covering her mouth. She wants it removed. 

The family members ask for permission from the staff. Her mask comes off for a moment or two. The question comes again. Her lips move, her tongue shows, but there is no voice. The conversation continues in silence. The family is left guessing, helpless and desperate. 

She wants to speak. She uses her fingers. She moves her hands. Her eyes dart around restlessly as she tries to get her family to understand what she said. Her children stare, clueless. They try to provide helping words. The words only bring more helplessness. She shakes her head no. 

My heart aches. Where is her voice? What is she trying to say? Her mind must be cluttered, clouded, fatigued. She wants to speak to her children, her children cannot hear. She wants to speak to her children, her children do not understand. She wants to speak to her children... But the only sound we hear comes from a cold, lifeless machine. It beeps.

Period-shaming.

A recent post about a free-bleeding woman running a marathon has been viral. People everywhere are sharing this post all over their social media pages, and there has been mostly positive, encouraging words like, "Wow, she's so brave!" or "That's right! There is nothing to be shameful about periods."

First off, let me establish here that period-shaming is ultimately disgusting and uncivilized. The menstrual cycle is proof that women have an important process going on in their bodies to enable reproduction to happen. This in itself shows that women are, in fact, powerful and should therefore not be shamed for having periods.

Things like carrying sanitary pads/tampons or even mentioning the word 'period' can cause social discomfort, not to mention seeing a blood stain on the back of a girl's pants being completely taboo. This is all caused by culture. Periods should not be an embarrassing issue. The symptoms of PMS have been joked about: jokes about infamous mood swings are the ultimate stab at a girl's femininity. These are all unnecessary and totally uncalled for, but this is culture and that's how things are.

The weirdest thing, though, is the fact that free-bleeding is now a thing. Has feminism reached a point where a stand can only be made by jeopardizing your own hygiene? Is it really necessary to run a marathon, in full view, while bleeding through your pants? I see the good intentions, but I don't agree with the execution. Do you not feel uncomfortable? Doesn't it feel like you're wetting your pants? Okay, maybe you are truly daring enough to televise your courageous act, but have you not forgotten why women's hygiene supplies were invented in the first place? There are many women in third-world countries who are extremely grateful for the reusable pads they receive from healthcare organisations, and here you are, bleeding freely?

It makes me sound closed-minded and probably quite ignorant, but I see the free-bleeding movement as unnecessary. Not only does it put your own health at risk, it also soils public hygiene. I mean, what's the point of having clean chairs when all you're gonna do is bleed all over it? Doesn't sound too great to me.

Once again, let me say that period-shaming is offensive, degrading and pointless. But if you want to take a stand against it, preserve your own dignity, please. And don't dirty the chairs.

Hanging Out with Guys vs. with Girls

Recently going out with a bunch of just guys gave me a whole new experience of 'hanging out'. Usually going out in mixed-gender groups or all-girl groups, it did feel a little strange at first. Maybe these differences don't apply to all of guy groups, but this was what I observed.

1. Manner of Speech
Girls obviously have higher pitched voices, but this seems to correlate with the speed at which they talk. Girls talk fast, whereas guys have a more chill and relaxed manner of talking. Guys, when excited about anything, still talk much slower than girls. Girls are just all over the place, talking about this, that, and in a group, five different things could be going on at once. With guys, one person talks, everyone listens. With girls, three people talk, and nobody listens. If you're lucky, the quiet girl of the group will listen to the jabber and smile with acknowledgement. Which leads me to the next difference...

2. Length of Conversation
Guys can linger on one topic for ages, but girls drift from conversation to conversation, with several people, until they find one that everyone can contribute to, which then makes it the longest and deepest conversational topic. It's tiring sometimes to be at a table with girls because once you have something to say, conversation shifts and suddenly nobody talks about the thing you wanted to say. Inside your head you're just like, 'But... I had a thing going on.' *cries inwardly*

3. Size of Travelling Herd
Ah, this. The classic 'girls travel in packs' dig. With girls, it's part of the code of conduct to raise a question of 'Anybody wants to go to the toilet?' to the others. And even if nobody else needs to go, somehow it's ethical to go in at least a group of three. ('It's ok la, I'll go with you.') I can't count the many times I've been to the toilet with girlfriends, just to stand outside, next to the paper towel dispenser, and wait for them to be done. But with guys? You want to go toilet, then you go toilet. Ain't nobody gonna follow you for moral support.

4. Shopping
Guys shop with a mission. They want to get food? They visit the food court. They want a drink? They drop by a beverage bar. They want to find a specific item of clothing? They tackle only the shops that they know will have the item. Girls, on the other hand, may say they want a new pair of jeans, but more often than not, I find the girls wandering in stationery shops, the accessories store, the grocery department, an ice-cream kiosk and five hundred clothing stores. After this long, drawn-out adventure, the girl who just now declared that she needed a new pair of jeans ends up empty handed, but everyone else has a new pencil holder, three pairs of earrings (only RM10!), grapes for the family, a cup of ice-cream (mango & chocolate), and possibly that cute floral print dress from H&M. Girl time!

5. Photo-taking
This has become such a ritual, almost, among girls, that it felt like something was missing when I was with the guys. I never initiate a photo-taking session when I'm with friends (mostly because I'm just lazy), but I always end up taking the photo (selfie-style) just because I have 'long arms'. We could well be eating our pasta in a nice restaurant and somebody will yell out of the blue, 'Snapchat!' Everyone will then automatically turn to the person who yelled, and make a face or smile at the smartphone. Naturally. Just before we leave the venue, or just before one of the girls go home, we'll be sure to take a nice group photo, preferably with an iconic statue that the mall has or with nice decorations pertaining to the season. That photo will be our 'official' photo of the day, and this will go up on at least half of the girls' Instagram accounts. With guys, this doesn't happen! Almost 4 hours of being in the same place, doing the same things, and no mention of a photo. Only after we played a game at the mall did we take a photo, which wasn't our idea anyway; it was a procedure that the staff-in-charge had to carry out. So there we were, taking a photo that wasn't even saved in our phones, and we had to wait for it to be out on the game outlet's Facebook page if we really wanted to see it/re-upload it. But honestly, I doubt that's going to happen.

*****

Being with girls and being with guys is clearly a different experience, but it's fun either way. I wrote this to take a jab at society and how things just are, and I did not write this to offend or insult any particular person. I thought it would be a laugh to write out some differences we all know too well, and I hope some of these were relatable. *winks*