“It’s much nicer to succeeded and feel lonely than being a lonely loser”
As I finish reading Braving the Wilderness, my heart still feels raw. No fewer than three times, you could have found me in a random café, in the middle of nowhere, tearing up. The book is just so tenderly beautiful, the way Brené describes, almost perfectly, my childhood and many of my friends’.
“Sometimes the most dangerous thing for kids is the silence that allows them to construct their own stories — stories that almost always cast them as alone and unworthy of love and belonging.”
When important things are unspoken, they allow false narratives to grow in a child’s mind.
These narratives are often untrue or distorted but become internal truths because no one there to tell them otherwise. And so, we grew up with the urge to please our parents, family, friends and to fit in with the society. Somewhere along the way, we forgot who we truly are.
We feared loneliness so much that we traded pieces of ourselves for acceptance.
Around 6, I started to discover the magic of creativity - that filled with crayons, pencil and paper.
I still remember, one hot summer day, while climbing and exploring around the neighbourhood, I stumbled upon a drawing of Sailor Moon.
It was like finding a wildflower in the cracks of concrete.
I brought it home, treasured it, and obsessed with redrawing it dozen times. To this day, I still think those childish, naive lines was one of the great drawing I’ve ever seen.
By nine or ten, I had started dozens of DIY projects: handmade gift cards, albums, jewelry. One of my proudest creations was turning an old boot into a pen holder. I decorated my room with things my aunt dismissed as garbage. I painted my nails, and use that same paint to paint my landline phone.
… but it all changed in fourth grade…
I received a below-average semester score, and my mom was so upset, to the point I could hear her screaming before she entered the house.
She cried and told me how disappointed she was having a daughter like me. My aunts and uncles often gathered to lecture me, telling me to stop being “lông bông” - a Vietnamese word for wandering aimlessly through life.
And that day, the endless race to meet expectations and fit the moulds began.
I stopped living in the land filled with imagination. I stopped climbing trees, stopped hanging around the field behind my house.
Well, to be honest, I still did, but much lesser and secretly and behind my parents’ back. ; )
I put most of my focus on studying harder.
Still, I remained an average student.
No matter how much effort I put in, I couldn’t crack the science subjects.
My mum would often sigh and stay quiet, the kind of quiet that let me fill in my own false narratives:
that I am slow, stupid and unable to keep up with others.
It for sure didn’t help when my cousins are a bunch of talented human beings, some got into gifted schools, the rest went to top schools.
Me?
My scores were so low I ended up in private school.
Needless to say, I tried and failed miserably in that race. For a long time, I struggled with shame and guilt.
Though, later I found out even those who seem to succeeded in that race, often discover a quiet loneliness, because what they achieved was never for their own hearts, but for someone else’s approval.
Still, that doesn’t make me feel better.
“It’s much nicer to succeeded and feel lonely than being a lonely loser” - I was telling my 20 something broke ass self.
In my young adulthood, I kept struggling between two worlds:
The wilderness of my own truth
and the expectations of society.
For more than a decade, I tried to balance between staying true to myself and keeping my parents happy.
That journey took me through many paths:
Studied days and night just to get enough points to pass university exam, only to drop out after one year.
Took a design diploma, hopped between jobs, completely lost and had no idea what I want to do with my life.
Fulfilled my dream of study abroad. Had the opportunities to work in Singapore, with the kind of salary I’ve never dreamt of earning.
And then,…just to drop it all over again.
I thought I would feel happiness, making my family proud, finally feel confident about myself.
I did, for a while.
I had a great boss, awesome colleagues, great working environment and benefits.
But there was this quiet sadness always present in the corner of my heart.
No matter how much I tried, I just couldn’t balance life with work. Finally giving up on balancing and just dedicated all my time to work. Then burnt out again.
I remember that feeling, while on my way walking from subway to my company, listening to Give Life Back to Music by Daft Punk, to give myself a dose of encouragement before going back to the 4-wall box, 8 (some times 10) hours a day.
Listen to this beautiful piece! It can pull my out of any depression phase!
It took me 1 whole year to finally decided to leave Singapore.
I failed to fit in, and then I succeeded at blending in.
And then, choose to walk back into the wilderness.
Reunited with my 6-year-old-self.
The one who loves to explore and experiment the world, without fear and judgement.
Having fun without guilt.
And to listen to Give Life Back to Music just to purely enjoy the genius piece of music.
Wild and free.
It’s fucking tough. But…
….like Maya Angelou once said:
“The price is high. The reward is great”
