A Weirdo Like Me

Is it possible to be born into one culture but be more in love with another? Is it OK to grow up, speaking one language, but feel more natural, contemplating and self-expressing in another later on in life? I know these two questions paint a portrayal of bizarreness in the mind of some, and I know that you may wonder, “How can it possibly be a weirdo as such existing in this world?” Rest assured, your confusion is understandable; that being said, I am here to tell you that a weirdo as such does exist, and that it is 100% possible for a weirdo as such to develop a deeper resonance and a more profound connection with a culture and a language, other than his or her own, because I am that weirdo.

Being a black sheep is never easy, in every sense of the word. Although my intuitive bond with a culture that is not mine can be a source of family pride and boastfulness; however, it can also be a target of biased scrutiny and race-based criticism. Holding onto a passport, which doesn’t represent my pride is confusing; possessing a citizenship of a country, whose values and beliefs are no longer in alignment with mine, is frustrating.

Confusion and frustration are the precursors of a deep state of depression; a no-man’s land that no one wishes to visit; yet, many of us, over the course of our lifetime, will set foot in, at least, once or more times than we care to admit.

What’s with this sentiment of not feeling belonged to a place, where, in theory, I am supposed to be a dot in its vastly tight-knit tapestry? And, what’s with this longing of mine, wanting desperately to be a part of the world that is so foreign and incomprehensible to my family? Oh I know…I know one of the reasons why is because I want to escape. I want to escape from all the curfews and restrictions, imposed on me. I want to escape from all the controls, past and present, coming from not only my family, but also the society at large, both of which do nothing but suffocate my freethinking and kill my creativity. I want to be the curator of my own individuality, the designer of my own outlook, and the cheerleader of my own battles, against all the naysayers, who are being judgmental towards me, just for the sake of wanting to show off a sense of superiority, by simply being a conformist to not only the ideological preaching, but also to the traditional, the social, and the family expectations within a Communist regime.

I want to be free, though I am fully aware of the fact that an absolute freedom is unlikely. Having been able to cultivate my cerebral fields, while letting my creative juices run free, exponentially, for more than a decade does provide me with a sense of freedom that I never knew existed before the age of eighteen, but have been appreciating and embracing it, wholeheartedly, since the door of millennium was knocked open for me, on the other side of the planet. Now that I have rekindled with my creative self and have lived the benefits of what’s like being in a democratic society, I can never go back to a country, where censorship is the reality, and to being that obedient island boy, whose life was pre-planned to a T by his parents, on an island far away in the South China Sea.

Life is full of curves and bumps. I have traveled halfway around the world in search of my true self and authenticity. I thought I was close to achieve my goals but only to have realized, tragically, that someone else’s lies and manipulation, all in the name of business, had severely derailed my trajectory. I don’t know where I will end up being happy permanently. I wonder why destiny has made me pursue a path of such turmoil. I know that I am weird; however, a weirdo like me does also long for some stability in a city, and in a country that he loves dearly.

 

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