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WYSIWYG

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Sometime ago (about the time when I met the man I now call my husband), I decided to take a dramatically different shift in living life. Previously, I was thoroughly enamoured with the idea of poetic liberty (whatever that means). Having my head tossed up somewhere between the clouds didn't quite make it for my lack of a normal character either, but for some reason – it did attract some kind of attention (and I wouldn't say that the attention wasn't fun while it lasted).

Except, the emotions that kept flooding my life seemed to douse me in an endless storm of dramatic tragedies, mostly ending in cathartic climaxes. And each time the drama repeated, my heart felt as if it was being ripped out, again, and again, and again.

Somewhere along the way I grew tired of putting up that show, of trying to be better through my words, I call it now, of faking my way through life, speaking with the kind of words that never quite meant me. It became heavy after a while, because I wasn't that kind of a girl, I was just mediocre, normal, Asian, human. Life without the poetic flair and the dreams of becoming TS Eliot wasn't that bad after all, and then I found out how laughing at the silliest things and speaking manglish could loosen up the knots in my life.

That's how I start attracting the people I wanted in my life. That's how I met Eric. How I became close to practical nuthouses like Vincent. Have the bunch of 'die for you friends' who made my wedding a success. I cried less, I emo-ed less, I blamed God less, I wondered about unnecessary things less, and I started noticing what's available to me. I started appreciating the idiosyncracies of the people around me, I started noticing how bad my Mandarin really was (a pity, considering that I had spent about 11 school years learning the language), and I started realizing that my Malay didn't sound halfway natural enough to proudly call myself 'Malaysian'.

I think there was a deciding moment somewhere in my life, a flicker of a second when I realized that I didn't like being Emily Dickinson after all, and aspired to sound a little more like Aunty in Jinjang City. Or something like that. I guess, I stopped trying to be someone whom I'm not, and I started to develop an appreciation for the little flaws that make up the entire fabric of life. These days my friend Wendy from high school days says I sound quite like an Aunty, and I actually like that attribution.

Even the Bad Engrish I see at work makes me smile, and I'm thankful because it gives me a job and an opportunity for promotion again and again. Also, because I loosened up, my Bad Engrish made me laugh, and it keeps me on my toes, reminds me that I'm not actually very good and there's plenty of room for me to grow.

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When I decided to become the WYSIWYG person I am now, life smiled back at me. It's the best decision I've ever made for myself.