Image by Riho Kitagawa on Unsplash
I can’t speak for all marriages, but I know while I am happy in mine, it hasn’t always been smooth. Ups and downs happen, and things can get tiring. Sometimes I think about those memes where single people make fun of themselves for remaining single while the rest of their friends are in relationships. Shouldn’t there also be some space for those in relationships to make fun of themselves, too? Like… hey, some of us actually feel trapped, some of us feel stifled, as though we lost different parts of ourselves when we give them to others. I wanna see memes that make fun of our situation, of our decision to commit. I wanna see comics that jab at my inability to keep the money all to myself, to always think of another. I don’t think it takes away the default beauty of a good and healthy relationship, right? I suppose some may think by making fun of the downs, it's an expression of the lack of gratitude. While I get that may be the case for some, it hasn't been for me. I want memes that make fun of relationships. In fact, I think acknowledging the downs make the relationship better. When I accept that downs happen, all the images and expectations of perfection erode, too. And I become better able and more equipped to embrace the comforting imperfections that come with being human.
Some may find it a great thing about marriage—this idea of often, if not always, having another in mind. But for myself, someone who values her own space, it can get a little tiring. For the larger part, though, I do think it’s something that makes me a better person, because I don’t always think about myself, haha.
Today carries no anniversary, no special occasion, just a simple Tuesday following a set of weeks that were a bit tough for the two of us. Tough enough to wear us both, to chip at our values, to challenge us as individuals and as together. We emerge, together and loving, but not energised, not refreshed.
People like to say hardships make people better and stronger. But there are downs that strengthen a person, and there are also downs that break down and leave cracks. It doesn’t always make us so enduring, so resilient.
Breaks are repairable, though. Throughout this period, I think of Kintsugi. I think of how the Japanese potters did it and even thought of it. Their creativity, their way of embracing the flaw of the broken pieces, their way of elevating it. They avoid giving in to inevitable regret and they avoid waste, so they made do, and made it better. My thoughts are with the cracks of the bowl, and I think of how they shine gold. The bowl can’t sustain itself when broken. The bowl can’t hold itself together, it’ll shatter further without the help of another. That’s where the sheen of the gold comes in. It’s not just to mend, but to beautify. It is not to hide, but to embolden, to fill the item with pride.
And I feel that way about our relationship, too. I’m not always so strong, neither is he. We break and crack, sometimes alone, sometimes together. But we do converge. And we each have our own set of gold. With that, we mend each other, for ourselves and the other we always have to think about. And while it isn’t always so easy, while I think of the imaginary memes making fun of me, I am content with my decision, I am content and thankful for my situation. I am content to be married to my partner.
In April 2019, I listened to BTS's new song, Boy With Luv, and, like the personas in the song, I fell in love. I loved the beats, I loved the colours it made me imagine, I loved the vocals, I loved the dance, I loved the feelings I had when I listened to it—like enjoying the scent of cotton candy and lemonade against the cool sea breeze on my face. I felt so enamoured by the delivery of the song and all the visuals that came with it.
But you know? I think what grabbed me the most was the fact that it was well-loved by so many others across the whole world, too. Like them or not, there can be no denial that BTS is an incredibly huge band with millions of dedicated fans who love them. And I find that to be one of the amazing things about BTS. They inspire people of different backgrounds, languages, ethnicities, cultures, everything, to come together and sing, dance, enjoy, and be cheerful along to a band they genuinely feel so much for. Seven young boys from Asia! Amazing!
Often, when I think about a "unifying" language on this earth, what instinctively comes to mind is English. English is said to be a "global" language. Somehow, it is or has been growing to be for decades. But, and I acknowledge that I am simplifying this very much, the main reasons for its global use aren't really because people feel so much for it. The reasons are grounded in blood, violence, and brutality. I think of the world as rooted but through the years, so much of us were ripped away from what grounded us when we were taken over by the English. So we take their language, their practices, their beliefs. Even as countries celebrate days of independence, a lot of us still depend on the powers that forcefully held us. English is probably the language I'm best in, but not a day goes by that I don't feel guilty or empty because of it.
So... When a band such as BTS, who proudly speaks Korean, who does not feel the need to always pander to the English or America, it fills me with so much awe. Somehow, in ways I find difficult to explain, I see the overflowing love for BTS from people all over the world to be a rebellious response against this idea that global popularity is only reserved for the West. I feel the same way when the movie Parasite was so well-celebrated, and now when the show Squid Game is the most popular programme on Netflix. It's so refreshing, so satisfying, fills me with a pride I cannot translate into words.
When I watch BTS on American, British, Australian, and other predominantly English-speaking shows and they are so incredibly unapologetically Korean, I'm so moved. How do I explain this? That after decades of subconsciously believing that if my English wasn't good enough I'll always be made fun of in my country and in the rest of the world, I see this group of guys my own age who speak Korean without needing to constantly apologise, without needing to check themselves nor having to have a translator so openly close to them, and they appear so comfortable and so at ease. It's heartening, relieving, like a huge slab of smooth cement has been lifted from my back. So smooth that I never even realised it was there until it was gone, and only then did I notice how broken my neck and back was. I feel validated, seen.
I also feel that my shared love and appreciation for BTS also comes from the fact that I am Malay. I am Asian. And as an Asian, I'm perceived to be part of a minority when Asians give so much for and take up so much of the world. I'm part of a group that's seen as behind when we've brought so much forward. I'm often described to be "on the other side of the world" when that very subjective statement could be said the same for the West, too. To see so much love for another group of Asians makes me feel like I can soar along as I sit on the shoulders of them as giants, too.
Even after 4 years of pursuing a degree in Literature and unlearning the way the West has been placed on a pedestal, I realise I've so much more unlearning to do. This journey of throwing away the unnecessary accord we lend the West is constant, it's a life journey, a life of relieving regional trauma and shedding away ideals that caused so much cultural pain.
Today, as my love for BTS grows, so does my assurance as an Asian, as a Malay—an assurance that has been growing steadily as learning and loving come along from different angles. I find it strange, curious, that my love for a pop band can stir up feelings of cultural trauma and Asian/ minority identity politics, but I suppose that's how intertwined pop culture and media representation is to our self-esteem and self-identification. It isn't as superficial as we all may think.
Dear you,
How are you? How have you been? I've so many questions, so many feelings, I wonder how you must feel, reading this, a figment of the past, a visit from the before.
Did pregnancy suck? I am thinking, how did you two succeed eventually? It's so tough when we try now. Other people make it so easy. They get married and God blesses them with a baby in less than a month. I thought it was that easy. But well, as you know, it's not—not for everyone. So now that you've succeeded, I wonder, was it easy? Was it scary? How long did it take in the end? So many questions! And so many speculations! I am wondering so many things!
But well, I know you're excited to answer them anyway. I'm excited for you, too!! I can't believe it, finally, it's happened. It's such a crazy yet exhilarating thought to think of you—me—as finally a mother. You're now someone responsible for another human being's physical, emotional, mental, spiritual, every-al growth and well-being. You're now someone who actually is actually mandated to look after another person, to ensure that their time in this world is a fulfilling and enriching journey towards the final destination, which is the heaven that we're all still working towards. It's insane, I really can't believe it!!!
Right now, I wonder, when would the time be when you can actually read this letter? As I type all this, I feel like it seems so far from me. I don't know when God has that blessing planned for you, me, us. I don't know when is best according to His timing. Other people ask us about it for more than a year now, and I know they mean well, but I share the same questions, too. I too want to know "when? bila?" I take no offence from these questions. In fact, when I am comfortable that the asker is sincere and willing to listen, I am quite open to share that we are struggling. I am open to share that we have medical issues that aren't so severe but enough to decrease one's chances. I don't really avoid talking about it, I wish it was talked about more. I welcome these questions, so I can share that yes, we are trying, and no, no results just yet. I wish people see it less of a "Want vs Wait vs Not Want" situation. People think we either Want or Not Want. People think we Want but we Want to Wait, too. But the thing is, there are many, such as myself, who Want but are made to Wait, due to reasons beyond our control. I want to talk about this. Though, even if no discussions are held, I ask for people's prayers. I ask them to pray that we can be blessed with a child one day. And pray that when we are blessed, we will be more prepared than we are now. InsyaAllah.
This world is a scary place. Especially today. There's so much misinformation. There's so much distrust in the religion and so much disorientation that steers Muslims away from core religious values. There's so much suffering in life, so much distress, so much pain, so much ego, so much arrogance, so much hate. And the nature of today's digital world also perpetuates more of that hate to get reported, shared, and spread all over. Beauty exists, but it is often overshadowed by the sensational struggles of our trying times. It's terrifying. I don't know if M and I can even do this. We don't even know if we can do this whole life thing. So I don't know if we're well enough to guide another set of human beings. I really don't.
Yet, I know the two of us still want children. Even with all the fear and anxiety, we still long to live the beauty and responsibilities of having kids, so we still try. One of the many ironies of life, I suppose.
The other day, the two of us went night cycling with another friend. I'm not sure how far into the future you're reading this, so I'm not sure if you can remember clearly (tho I know you will, and if not, Google photos can help you). As we were cycling at 2am around Marina Barrage, I remember pausing and staring into the sea and thinking, how different life would be had we already been blessed with a child. It would be very unlikely that we would be night cycling. Perhaps we would still be awake, to soothe the baby or to catch up on undone work and studies. And even if we didn't have anything to do, perhaps we would be too tired to even think of going night cycling. Had we already been blessed with a child, things would be so, so different.
As I thought of that other universe, I experienced a strange mix of feelings. I felt both gratitude and longing. I long for those nights to take care of my child, but I also feel thankful that I need not do it now. I long to be able to raise another human, but I'm also grateful that I can do all sorts of fun activities with just my husband while getting to know each other better. It was strange. As I paddled fast in the dark, I teared. I teared without a specific emotion, just for the strength of whatever it was I was feeling.
As you now are in the position of taking care of the beautiful child who came from you, I hope you can still find the time to somehow be the other parts of yourself—the parts of you—us—that keep you happy and grateful and fulfilled even without a baby, the parts that keep us content, curious, and adventurous. I hope that you can also carry some of these parts into the one of you who mothers, too.
Also, as much as I am so happy for you and I know that you must be so happy, too, I have this feeling that you may miss me. That you may miss the you before, the me right now. Once one is a parent, they can never not be a parent. Since that is the case, I often remind myself to make sure to live more in the present. I'll do my best to cherish the moments now, to get to know myself and M better, to build our finances and our potential home, to improve ourselves as individuals, a couple, and potential parents, and to make more beautiful memories together so they can be shared as stories with our little ones in the future. It's hard to not think about the potential future, especially when I long so much for a child, but I'll do my best, for you and for me, insyaAllah.
Praying for you, us, M, our future children, our parents, always. I love you, my dear. Take care of yourself.
Best,
The You of the Past who is always grateful, always longing
