synonymsforjane

I was in a hostel in Prague, talking to Matías, when he shared with me about Workaway. It’s how he got this job at the hostel, bringing guests out to pub crawls, walking tours, hosting game nights and partying with guests in different clubs every night. Tough job eh? In exchange, he gets to lodge in the hostel for free and 2 meals a day taken care of. He also gets to meet hundreds of people a month, travellers from different countries, and exchange stories and experiences.

I googled workaway and signed up immediately for access to the platform. Its USD $42 for a year. If you’re curious about the kind of hosts, you can easily Google Workaway and check the hosts out now. You don’t need to sign up for it to explore. You only need an account to send hosts messages.

Workaway is basically a platform to connect travellers with hosts. A host is anyone who can offer accommodation (and most times meals) to travellers in exchange for some help. What kinda help? It depends. The description of duties would be clearly stated on the host’s listing, along with the kind of sleeping and living arrangement provided. Work is expected to be for 3 to 5 hours a day, 5 days a week.

There’s an app access too once you sign up so it’ll be easy for you to track messages.

I thought it would be difficult to find a host. But I found one within a week, after sending out 5 or 6 messages to hosts in Spain. At that time, I really wanted to go to Andalucía so I searched for a workaway there.

Unfortunately, I got stuck in England even before I could get to Spain, so I had to kiss my South Spain dreams adiós

The good thing was that there were plenty of workaway hosts in UK. I’m now staying in Leicester, working alongside 2 other travellers with our host family.

Questions I can currently think of:

1. Is there a minimum stay period? I would say no but of course, most hosts would request you stay at least a week or sometimes a few weeks, depending on the skill required. This platform encourages a cultural exchange, as well as some form of mutual benefit to both parties. If the job requires teaching of skills, hosts would typically want you to stay a while longer if not it would be tiresome having to retrain people all the time. Then again, some hosts just need help with daily chores so people might come and go as they please.

2. What kind of work will it be? It depends! Could be anything from being a crew on a sailboat, to babysitting, or even just house sitting. My previous workaway required us to babysit and do some light gardening, but this current one involves more manual work like digging holes, building bonfires, sanding bricks etc. I’ve also seen hosts needing help with taking care of huskies in Iceland, horses in Scotland, teaching english in Vietnam. The type of work varies so much, everyone can find something for them.

3. Is there an age limit? Minimum to sign up is 18 but no maximum age. In fact, if you have a browse around the website’s blog you will read about 60 year old doing workaways. Some hosts even prefer taking more experienced travellers because they need their level of skill.

4. Can you travel as a couple or family? Yes to both. You can even sign up as a couple to save costs on membership fees. Just make sure hosts can take in your group size.

5. How do you get confirmed? After setting up an online page, start sending your hosts some messages! There are certain things you can clarify with them first before confirming the job. I usually make sure I know what the job entails, where I would be sleeping, if meals are provided, if they can pick me up from a certain location, timings and hours of the job, nearest supermarket, if I can cook for myself, if there’s fridge space, if there are laundry services, free WiFi, etc. The best way to get personal is to ask if they’re okay to do a video call. That way, you get to virtually meet them and suss their vibe out before you actually commit. Once you do commit, try not to cancel last minute as hosts would have turned down other travellers after confirming you.

6. How do you choose a reliable one? Similar to most apps, they have a feedback section. Read through the feedback section, you can find out more from past travellers. If they have no feedback it might be because they are new hosts. In that case, rely on your savyhood and suss them out during your interactions. If in any case, you get there and don’t like your host, I would usually just make sure I can find cheap stays close to their location JUST IN CASE I need to GTFO immediately.

7. Why do a workaway? It provides you to live out your dreams. If you’ve always wanted to live in a yurt on a mountain, a dog shelter, learn permaculture skills, practice the languages you’ve been learning on Duolingo, sail from Greece to Canary Islands, help restore a 500 year old castle, tend to sheep in New Zealand, learn pottery making……… And yet want to do it cheaply with little commitment time, Workaway is the best way to do it. For long term travellers like me, its a cheap way to travel, but also my preferred way because I get to experience local life and be a part of families, have a home away from home.

8. Why not do a workaway? If you only have a few days and want to have a luxurious holiday, obvi this isn’t the best option. If you don’t like living with strangers, if you’re not open minded, adaptable, friendly, sociable, and basically expect to do as little work as possible, workaway isn’t for you. The best way to enjoy a workaway experience is to throw yourself out of your comfort zone!!

Challenge yourself to go out there, and think positively of your experiences that are to come. I’m so glad I got introduced to workaway, so early on in my travels, so that I didn’t have to waste too much money on hostels and airbnb.

I never thought I could travel for more than 6 months, or even a year. Because I don’t have skills to be a digital nomad. Because of workaway, I can be just a nomad! Haha. I hope this helps all of you dream a little bigger in terms of your traveling plans. Here’s a link to some other questions via the webby. https://www.workaway.info/en/info/faq

Hasta luego, muchachos!

I’m so out of my comfort zone, I think to myself.

I’ve been sanding down bricks for the last 3 hours, and praying for the “dinner” call. Here in this family, they term lunch as dinner and dinner as lunch.

I look over at the fifteen bricks I’ve sanded down in the last 90 minutes and feel a pride surge up. My arms are aching so bad, my nails are non existent, and my work clothes are covered in clay dust. I’ve never done such a job before and I wondered if there was any scenario back in Singapore that would have given me the opportunity to do something like that.

I’m the only girl living here as a workawayer, together with two other guys my age. One is Lee, Brazilian, previously in the military. He’s introverted, loves animals and spends most of his alone time playing computer games. There’s Matias, from Chile, who has a masters in neuroscience and likes to read up on philosophy in his free time.

Then there’s the family. Mark and Caroline, together with their 2 sons, Lance and Miles, and one more Foster son who’s not living in the house at the moment.

After work, I plop down in the big couch and whip out my phone. A Facebook reminder reminds me that our boat wedding was 2 years ago. Memories come flooding by and I can still hear the music ringing in my ears. I can still see the smiles on my friends and family’s faces. Who was that Jane, living that life? I don’t recognise her. And yet, it definitely was me. The me who believed I knew what I wanted life to be like.

I haven’t got a damn clue. But I’m soaking it all in. All these unique experiences I wouldn’t get if I had stayed in my comfortable Singapore.

Mark hands us cans of shandy and we sit together, the 4 of us. He starts telling us the story of how he got to own the estate. The house itself is big, 2 floors, many rooms, and the land is about 4 acres big. He tells us how he used to come by the place on his paper runs, and started helping John, the owner, do odd jobs around the house. Eventually, he moved in to help do more restoration work because the house was in a bad condition. Years pass and John, who never got married, gave the estate to Mark, if only he and his family would look after him in his old age.

Just like that, Mark came to own quite a piece of property! He tells us how he worked for many years to build this place up and that one day, his sons won’t have to do all this work, but that they will reap the benefits.

I like Mark because he’s kind to people. He has a “live and let live” motto and that was probably what earned him this piece of property. Thing is, he never did the work with the intention of owning the house. He just went about his life, doing the work, and being kind to people. His job didn’t define who he is, the way he treats people does.

I realize that we often put a value to people in our lives. Why do we do that? I’m reminded by Mark, it really doesn’t matter how much people earn, what they own, and what they do for a living. It matters how we choose to treat them.

I’m embarrassed by an incident that happened recently. One of the neighbors was watching us work, and staring at us intensely. I smiled and said hi but she only opened her mouth to say “you can’t be piling up dirt here. The council won’t allow it!” I ignore her and keep at my work. The next time I looked up, I saw her taking photos of us work. I couldn’t believe her audacity. An anger washed over me and I snapped at her. “You can’t do that. Take a photo of us. That’s rude! We’re not doing anything wrong. Delete it.” she shook her head and walked away.

We told Mark about this incident and he had a word with her. “hi Margaret, we’re just about done with this pile, and we will be done. I just wanted you to know these lads are with me and they’ll be no trouble at all” she started off complaining again but then mellowed down once Mark kept his cool and friendly demeanor.

The following day, while we were working, Margaret comes over to us, holding a box of freshly baked scones. We figured it was her way of a peace offering and I thanked her.

“live and let live” – mark’s simple and plain motto.

In the day, this motto seems really easy to uphold because I’m having so much fun, and being so free, free from…. Everything back home in Singapore. But sometimes, the dreams come again. And they stand to remind me how much baggage I have yet to overcome. I wish I had stood up better for myself sometimes, but I’m also proud that i stood my ground in being kind to D and his fiance. Is being kind being weak? I don’t know really. I don’t feel weak though, I feel strong.

The days here fly by fast. I’ve been cooking lots of Asian dishes for them. On free days, we open up the summer house, spread out blankets on the grass and bathe in the sun.

I’m thankful for this time in my life, to explore the world and absorb everything it is trying to teach me. I may be confused all the time just about everything, but I know that in time to come, it’s just about making decisions. Sometimes, it’s also just about enjoying life the way it already is. Salud everyone. Enjoy the sun!

It has been 5 months since I left Singapore, and i thought I would miss it more. But frankly, I’m really glad I didn’t rush to go back during the covid call backs because this physical and mental space that I have from loved ones and familiar faces is exactly what I need.

So, even though I think about family everyday, especially my aging grandparents, and I miss them dearly, I’m sticking it out and traveling around the world for as long as I can. Until.

Until what? Until I suddenly have a lightbulb moment and think “okay that’s my life’s purpose”? Until I run out of money? Until I find a new place I wanna live and settle down in?

Who. Knows. The answer is “I don’t know.” but this is also why I’m writing my thoughts down. Because I’m painfully aware that even if you have a job, or you already have kids, or you are about to get married…. Many people still have no clue as to what they want in life. Or what they’re doing, really.

At least for me, I feel as though this question became a default search in my search engine. “what can I use my life for?”

When I left Singapore, it was meant to be for 6 or 7 weeks. I was going through a weird phase in my life involving an ex husband and his current fiancee. Sounds messy? It was 10 times messier than you can imagine. But also quite funny how everything panned out considering everything. Maybe I’ll open up about it in time to come, not the deets but more on divorcing and how people don’t talk enough about it but long story short…..

I left Singapore furiously trying to numb the pain from a pending divorce and found myself in Mexico.

My first week in Mexico, I struggled to get out of bed in the mornings. My good friend Tim, had to drag me out on my first night, tell me to my face “it’s going to get better, Mexico is going to heal you” and you know what! He was so right and more. Him and Carlo shared their room with me in Mexico City, fed me, drank with me, danced with me, and showed me around the city for a few days until I was ready to leave on my own.

The first city I went to sólo, was Guanajuato. I planned to stay 3 nights, and booked a quaint room in an airbnb. It was quiet, peaceful, about 25 mins walking distance from town centre, and everything I needed. I allowed myself time to mope around and cry, call my friends and family for comfort. But when it was time to go out and explore, I put on some music, sang along to the songs, put on some make up and off I went. I walked down the streets and alley ways, got lost and found great eateries and bakeries. I took a funicular to the highest viewpoint and sat for 4 hours just reading, writing, smiling to tourists and letting my mind sit.

Guanajuato was a great start to the trip and it showed me how my mornings could start out horribly wrong. But also how in just a few hours and a good walk later, my afternoons would turn out to be amazing and drastically different. That’s how I went through the first few weeks of my pain. I pushed through it. It was so much easier to stay in Singapore, hide in bed and watch soppy movies all day. But I took a flight to Mexico instead, stared the pain in its face, and said “Im not afraid of you”. The one thing I was determined to do was NOT go around the pain but THROUGH it. And I’m so, proud of myself for that. I’m sorry it took 5 months for me to realise I shouldn’t be shy about this fact. I’m so proud of myself for dragging my ass to Mexico.

It was also in this time, that my friends and family really stood by me to give me the mental and emotional support I needed. I never knew how a call could sound so warm, that I could feel a hug through their voice and in those moments, feel comforted. While i was transiting alone in airports and feeling like “wtf am I doing i can’t do this maybe I should cut the trip short” my friends and family stayed up late on their phones for 2 hours giving me pep talks. “Jane I’m telling you, you’re so strong, you can DO THIS. U GO OUT THERE AND SMASH THIS TRIP” “Jane I promise you, in just a week you’re going to feel better, just breathe”. I’m also absolutely thankful to have parents like my mum and dad. Most parents would have lost their minds with a kid like me. But my parents instead, said “if we could fly out to find you, we would be on this adventure with you 100%”. Without my troop, I would have already lost the first battle.

Later on while I moved around in Mexico, I met so many amazing travellers and got thrown into a fast track management program but one that was for the job of Life. I met an a Australian who has been traveling around the world for 12 years , and finally found home in Mexico where she runs a cafe in a hostel and cuts hair for people just for fun. I met countless of others who decided that their home countries just wasn’t exciting and liberating enough for them to explore their talents. For some, it was also because their home countries weren’t safe and stable like Singapore. To them, the world provided opportunities for business, an endless source of inspiration, people to connect with, and THAT idea connected with me.

So I told my mum that I was delaying my return to Singapore, and booked flights to Berlin, Paris and the UK. My plan was… No plan really. I had a few friends in these places I knew I could stay with. And my search was and is really, just for inspiration and new experiences.

Covid later on, took the decision making burden out of my hands. Instead of going to Spain for a workaway, I ended up finding one in the UK. Workaway is a platform where travellers can stay with hosts (for free) for short or long periods of time depending on the job. We do 5 hours of work a day for 5 days a week in exchange for that accommodation (and most times at least 1 meal a day) and get 2 days off. The idea is that a cultural exchange takes place while both parties benefit mutually. The type of hosts varies from farm owners, to hostels, and can also be people building their own houses or running their own resorts.

Anyway, the idea of doing a workaway wasn’t really daunting at all. But I guess I want to start sharing my travel experiences since my friends and family have been telling me to. Ive also realized that it’s absurb to some singaporeans that I’m doing this.

The idea of an NUS graduate, with a good head on her shoulders, choosing not to get a job or an advancement in a career… But instead, traipse around the world with little to no plan of how to “save for a future” is absolutely ridiculous. Rebonkulous. Strange. Bewildering. Confusing.

Well, this is me now, inviting you into my world of strangeness. So that anyone who’s interest I’ve piqued can either live vicariously through me, want to show their kids how not to be me, or be inspired to start their own journeys, however small or big they are.

I’m currently in Leicester, living in a house that’s 150 years old. There are altogether 9 of us humans, 3 dogs, 3 puppies, 4 fowls, 100 odd pigeons, 2 pigs, 1 horse and wild foxes and badgers that come and go. With quite a bit of land to take care of, and some restoration work to do in the house, I’ll be here for a few months, and will share whatever I think of that might be interesting or cool.

I’m 28, coming out of a marriage, haven’t got alot of savings. Before I left Singapore, all I had on my CV was 3 years of working in an insurance company, 2 years of doing various part time jobs such as teaching kids how to swim, bartending, giving tuition, and working in a hostel. Am I making a mistake by abandoning prospects of finding a good and “stable” job? Who knows. Will I heed the advice of my relatives and stick to a 9 to 5 even though I wouldn’t like it, just so I can build up my CPF? Absolutely not.

People ask if I know what I want to do in life. Yes…. I have an idea of what would be a dream goal. I don’t know the steps to it, and also, if I ever will get there. But I do know that for now, my path lies outside of Singapore.

So there……as my JC friends nicely put it, I guess for the foreseeable future, Jane will be a Jypsy. A wandering traveller, in search of something. Come along on the journey if you’d like a bit of story telling. I’ll be as authentic as I can, and share with you the good and the bad. Adiós for now. Stay strange in these strange times.

I’ve jumped on the bandwagon of meditating and I’m pinching myself for not having started earlier. My mind is used to taking new concepts and thinking “okay now I have to make this a routine so I can get good at it” but in the process of reinventing myself, I’m allowing genuine interest to take control of when I do or not do something. Naturally, my focus goes to things I’m good at – Spanish class, sketching followed by meditation.

But I’d like to expand on what learning about meditation has taught me. The meditation technique I use is not the kind that teaches you to empty your mind, it also isn’t transcendental meditation (TM) because I couldn’t be bothered to find a certified mentor to help me. My friend introduced me to a form of meditation that basically just focuses on using breath to feed the “monkey mind” while training your mind to be aware of thoughts, not resist them.

https://youtu.be/lt9OcLynjwE

The link above would help with information on the technique.

While meditating, a thought came to my mind. That this could apply to alot of things that we do in our daily lives too. It also reminded me of a book I once read that talked about putting down our utensils after each mouthful of food, so that we can savour what we’re eating, and taste the different textures and flavours of the ingredients.

Just like we would give our 100% to a concert we’re watching, or a movie, something as simple as eating also requires our 100% focus and attention, so we don’t lose an opportunity to take joy in something as privileged as a well balanced meal. It’s ironic that we would pay $300 for our senses to be overwhelmed in a concert, when we can pay $3 and equally indulge in the senses we arouse while enjoying a meal.

I remember how I used to multitask all the time. Texting while walking, eating while reading, constantly finding ways to save time and make my life more “efficient”. But I never learnt the art of savouring time. What was I saving all the time for, when I wasn’t using it on improving myself or expanding my knowledge on things? The minutes I saved, I didn’t spend on sleeping more, or reading more.

The next time we eat, we shouldn’t pair it with a Netflix movie, or be checking on social media. Maybe for just one meal a day, we can start by just taking a bite, putting down our utensils instead of prepping for the next, and then just….. Eat.

My uncle used to sit my cousins and I down and make us chew 30 times before we swallowed our food. His point was to get us to digest our food better but I think he was on to something! Something as simple as taking time to chew, something everyone can do, would benefit us in the same way as meditation does.

When we focus on things we are currently doing, on one singular event, perhaps we will then allow other thoughts to come to us freely. If we are eating, we eat. If we are walking to somewhere, we focus on walking and maybe enjoying the view around us while we do it. And just like when we meditate, we focus on our breathing and let thoughts freely come and go, so we create space to allow inspiration to flow through our minds.

I like this life I’m living now. I can feel my thoughts expanding in range and in perspective. I think differently, more acutely and more freely. I’m excited for the days to come.

I wake up from a stupid nightmare and I’m so angry. Angry with myself for still not moving on as fast as I want to. My thoughts lie with me for the next half an hour as I half heartedly try to fall back asleep.

I try to pinpoint the emotions that I feel, and I have to separate them out because they don’t come singularly but as a crowd of demanding feelings. Some throb hard and angrily while others sit quietly, but they’re all there, interwoven amongst each other.

There are so many Whys, What Ifs and Buts. And I’m sick of it all. I’m tired of running threads through my mind. And maybe I should stop actively doing that. Maybe I should instead actively steer my mind towards focusing on bettering me. I should sketch, or meditate, or read, or write, or eat. But some days, my thoughts just occupy the whole room, and I can only find a single spot on the ceiling to come up for air, a single moment of peace before the pressure of memories come swarming back up my throat again.

Some days are just tougher than others. And I’m so sick of it.

I’m squatting over in the small downstairs toilet, furiously scrubbing black stains off a pair of pink crocs. It’s a mindless job, and quite honestly a futile one, seeing that Eva is just going to jump in the next puddle of mud as soon as we go for a walk. Still, I want to do my job well and I scrub, scrub and scrub.

When I’m done, I move on to the next pair of shoes. Winter boots. The kind with fur inside and a bunny with ears that shoot out of the boots. As I hold them in my palms, I remember Dorota saying that she wanted to sell them. They were hand me downs from rich neighbors who couldn’t be bothered to donate them elsewhere, and discarded them outside their double-doored entrance, on their driveway, with a sign that said “For Free”. The boots were in a huge box with many other toys, and even a bicycle, one they probably discarded away because it got too small for their son. Dorota took the whole box home, together with the bicycle, and now I’m left with the task of cleaning them before they’re sold off in a garage sale.

I looked at the bunny boots and wondered where they would end up. Would they move through different families, on different pairs of feet for years to come? Or would they end up in a pile of trash, ready to be incinerated, in a matter of months? How many pairs of bunny boots are circulating in this world of consumerism?

We buy and buy and buy so much. We consume what the conglomerates want us to want, not what we need, and we participate in the death of humanity and the environment as silent users. Suddenly, I’m awaken to the darkness of capitalism, more so than I ever have been.

I started to remember the many times I went out shopping for a new dress. Just because I could. I started to recall the thousands of dollars I spent in bars and restaurants, just to feel like I had a great night out. That person feels so different…….from who I feel like now.

I always pride myself for not being materialistic, but in a way I was still trapped in the senseless pursuit of “material happiness”.

My life these few months have been so liberating and inspired. Although I live out of a suitcase, I’ve never felt more alive, and aware of every thought and action.

I’m living the life I dreamt of, not in a ‘oh I wish my life were like this’ , but more of a ‘what if I had made certain decisions that led to this life’ kinda way. And I’m beginning to feel like this is only the tip of the iceberg.

We’re all trapped in this world of capitalism. And one can hardly do a thing to escape it. It lurks around every corner, hell, it’s right in your face most of the time. But we’ve come to get so used to it, that it doesn’t look like a freak as much a familiar.

What role can I play in this world? What purpose can I elect for myself?

I don’t count this as starting over. A friend said to me that day “if you want to start moving on, you can’t keep writing about the past, write about your future”.

The near future I see myself in, is me trekking in the jungle of Borneo, looking for wild Orang Utans, spending 2 months in Brazil learning how to kite surf, practising my Spanish while I traipse across South America, and going on a culinary escapade through Asia. I want to take in all the hustle and bustle of the cities whose names I haven’t heard of before, and spend countless of hours on beaches watching sunsets.

I want to laugh with toothless elderly in Sri Lanka, and learn from the graceful Japanese how to make sake. I want to visit orphanages and social enterprises in third world countries, and be inspired by how they change their communities from the ground up. I want to help paint the child care centres that the women in Mexico are opening, so that they empower mothers by giving them time to go for further studies and work.

I want to eventually find places where I find special meaning in, and help start different businesses so that I can help make my mark there.

I feel like I’ve been trying to live a life that wasn’t entirely mine for the last 10 years. The fact that I lived it well doesn’t take away the feeling that I had what someone else wanted. I couldn’t feel accomplished because I was accomplishing what I didn’t necessarily want.

What do I want? That’s the big question isn’t it. Turning 28 is scary because I thought I would have had certain things by this time. And I did, for a few years. I had such a sure future ahead of me. And overnight, that was ruined. I don’t want to say that it wasn’t my dream life, because I feel like I could have been happy with that life too.

But I’m also choosing to see this as an opportunity to be carried with the tide. I’m allowing the events that have unfolded, completely out of my control, to finally put me out of control. I’m embracing this uncertain life, and feeling this excitement grow. That possibilities are abound, and that literally anything can happen.

.

Jane, you’re so brave. Am I, really? I truly don’t know. I guess the part where I’m brave is why I’m writing this down today.

These days spent in lockdown are fairly fun. 80% of the time I feel good. Excited about the future and truly experience happy moments where I feel free of the nightmare. I usually start my day preparing brunch. And then it’s either art, Spanish, or yoga classes online. A friend from back home usually calls and an hour or two goes by while we catch up….. Then it’s time for dinner and the three of us usually have conversations or play board games afterwards. The day ends, just like that. And repeats itself again.

So I guess maybe I can’t say that my days aren’t great. The thoughts however…. Im eager to get rid of soon. I know these things take time, and sometimes focusing on them too much would make matters worse too. But I’d like to take time to discuss them.

Grievances. It’s often easy to say “love yourself, give self love, detach self worth from others, ground your identity in how you see yourself, not how others see you”

It’s really hard to actually do so. Because it’s like asking you to go against how reality feels. If we love someone, it’s often because we feel loved too. Love, in its human form, often comes with expectations.

I’ve been getting really good dreams the past few weeks. Fun ones, ones that I used to get before DDay. My dreams get really creative and often make me feel my subconscious is a whole other person I would like to dig out and get to know. The other Jane is probably insecure and shy but wildly imaginative and incredibly talented. Me on the other hand…. I can make friends with any stranger and speak in a room of 500 and more, but ask me what my passion is, and the question leaves me dumbfounded.

But then it comes. A typical nightmare where reality and fear mixes up weird scenarios to make you feel trapped and frustrated. I’m sitting at the dining table with my family, and D and I had come from a stay cation. We had fought about certain reasons for splitting up, and I kept coming back to the same tune “but you left. The point of a marriage is to never leave no matter how much we don’t feel love anymore, it’s to have someone’s back, and to always try to make things work”

My frustration doesn’t get its satisfaction because we are immediately pulled into a dinner situation, with D’s mistress sitting between me and my dad, and D sitting across us with my brother and mum.

I start looking at the menu, logically thinking what I’d like to eat, practicing the social norm of asking my companions what they are thinking of ordering, and then it hits me. How in the world are we all sitting at one table? Why am I normalising this already? I cared why D felt it was okay for this to happen. But it’s funny how I was pissed at this simple dinner, while being extremely fast to want to forgive him for everything else.

In a way, it put things into perspective for me. Im not okay yet. The impatient part of me wants to fast forward to the part where I’m healed and not vulnerable anymore. The fear of having an open wound is making me anxious to fast-track the grieving and go straight to the healing.

But I forget, that Time is greater than I am. And that however determined I am, will not make me defeat what Time wants to put me through.

How then? Do I truly heal? Does time have a magical effect on wounds that just everyone can use on their pain? Is it like Vicks where no matter what the issue is, you just slap a ton of it on the pain point and wait?

Is it sieving through pain points one by one and then willing them into submission so they become numb? I don’t know the answer.

Sometimes I forget. But I loved him alot. It’s in the past tense because I choose not to anymore. Everyone has their idea of what love is and I think Love is a verb. It’s a choice to make. I believe D really loved me too. We were both madly in love. But along the way, forgot how to. We both allowed ourselves to hurt each other, by not actively loving each other. But knowing that doesn’t lessen my pain, because the pain point comes from him leaving, and not fighting. Maybe his hunch was right and that even if we tried, we would fail again. I don’t know.

But I know that I want to be free from this pain point. I know I want to believe the narrative that “you can’t control what someone else does, you can only control how you heal from their actions” but I also fear that I won’t love as naively and as freely anymore. I fear that I don’t believe in loving without expecting to get hurt anymore. I fear that I’ll bring a wall with me and carry it around.

I can feel the bricks forming, and this is the part where I’m choosing to be brave and desperately trying to claw them down. I don’t want fear to cripple me. I want to know God’s love, and let him heal me truly. I want to give God’s love, and one day be able to trust in someone again.

I don’t know what the steps are. But I know that im healing well, alot better than I thought I would. I’m aware of my impatience and I’m reminding myself to take it slow…. To take my time and sit still with my thoughts. To feel all the emotions and let them flow when they have to. To not fight the memories and let them surface, so I learn how to breathe through pain and not want to go around it.

Maybe it’s being in a foreign environment that’s helping. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m doing alot of learning, especially Spanish and art. Maybe it’s because I get to travel around, learn about Europe’s history of war and how people cope with loss. Maybe its the friends I have made and have back home who send me love all the time. Maybe it’s the reading I do, that helps me sort out my thoughts and gives me insight. Maybe it’s my constant quest to want to dig deep into my own brain and evolve into a stronger mind. Maybe it’s also the free spirited part of me thats now free, and itching to go, she’s on her mark, getting ready to explore all these places and things. Maybe it’s all of it put together. But I’m grateful to God for giving me this strength that I never knew was there. I’m grateful that when it was really tough to even get up, breathe, walk, or be awake, God put people in my life to stand by me, and He accompanied me through the toughest of times.

Now that it seems the first phases of pain are over, I want to grieve well. Not dwell on grievances anymore, but find a way to truly forgive D and myself, so I won’t fear loving again.

“when there’s nothing to do, do nothing” if there’s nothing else I can do now, I’m gonna sit and do nothing. It’s alot tougher than it sounds, this nothingness. But I believe I’m already doing well, now I just need to let Time do it’s magic.

Having seen how Singapore dealt with the covid virus made me so proud to be Singaporean. We took immediate measures, we were constantly communicated with, our schools and offices were never closed, our borders kept fairly open, and yet we contained the numbers quickly, swiftly and this is all due to the many people behind the scenes and in the forefront, putting their jobs first, their lives at risk, all because…. They can. Not because they must, but because they choose to. Same goes to every one else in the world who’s choosing to sacrifice a part of their comfort, alot of their time, to risk their health and help others.

I’m in England now, and unfortunately, things here aren’t the same. The government doesn’t seem as clear as to what they should do, and people here struggle to decide how to react. Do they go about their daily lives? Are things really that serious yet? Wouldn’t the government have said something by now if England really was in a dire situation? There is alot of uncertainty, and each day brings more news. People start pointing fingers and blaming.

It’s when things start to crack that we realize there were foundational problems. England is now facing the harsh reality that they had bigger problems even before Covid hit them. Singapore, on the other hand, was always ready for a crisis like this.

A divorce is the same, really. Its uncommon to talk about the possibility of one until it happens. Everything explodes and the “truth” shocks people around them. The story becomes sensationalised and people start asking how it could have happened. “but D and Jane were the perfect couple!” “they looked so sweet together”

Our marriage, though brief and short, was indeed sweet and memorable. I don’t want to talk specifics about how we messed it up, and how we could have done better, I don’t think that would be helpful. But I want to speak into the process of grief, one that comes from many sources, through death, illness, unemployment, the turn of a tide in many forms, mine now, the loss of a marriage.

I hadn’t really understood why I wanted to write this blog. Until a friend called me one day, and we talked for over 2 hours. He asked me how I was, and I shared candidly about what happened, how I’ve been doing now and my plans for the future. To my surprise, he started getting angry at me.

He couldn’t understand why I wasn’t more angry. I listened, to his words, and in between them, realized this emotion wasn’t about me. I asked him a simple question “have you been hurt like that before?” and he went silent for a few moments. I could hear his hesitation to be vulnerable, it wasn’t because he hadn’t processed his thoughts before, his story was at the tip of his tongue, it was clear that he had narrated this to himself many times before, and had been tormented by his own thoughts for a while now.

In his silence, he was just contemplating if he should now bring down that wall. It showed that his wound hadn’t healed, and that just a light tap on the surface still brought fresh pain.

He shared that yes, a few years ago, he felt the same abandonment that I did, an abrupt end to a relationship that he thought would lead to marriage. He experienced the same helplessness, not being able to change anything, feeling as if he didn’t have a choice to make, but was just handed one. He kept wondering what went wrong, and replayed again and again, the entire relationship. The beginning, the end, and all the bits in between. Even till now, he can’t understand the why and the how. He gave power to his pain and hid it, buried it deep down. He lashed out, started sending her nasty messages, calling her friends to get her to reconsider, going to clubs to meet new girls…. You know the drill. He forced himself to forget the pain, to move on, and found himself another girlfriend a month after the break up. That relationship went on for 2 years but ultimately broke down because he was shallow inside, empty. The sad thing is that a baby was born during these 2 years, and now they share parenting duties, unable to be together because he feels too stifled and suffocated to be with another partner.

2 years on and his pain still haunts him. His anger still brews inside of him, and he hangs on to a hope that justice would prevail, that he would be told the “truth”, that somehow the injustice done to him would be paid for. He allowed his own pain to manifest in another form, and now a child has to grow up with parents who don’t even know how to love each other, yet alone love her. He feels his guilt and his shame, and he’s afraid that now is too late to realize, he should have forgiven himself a long time ago. He should have long realized that Love is not about ownership, but about freely giving, not taking. He should have stopped blaming himself for a relationship that ended just because it wasn’t on his terms. He was waiting for someone to tell him, that no one can ever truly control another person’s actions. That all of us decide for ourselves, how we behave and are ultimately responsible for the consequences that come along with our actions.

Through his pain, he started crying. And I wished in that moment, I could give him a hug to tell him to cry harder. Cry out the pain and the agony, the frustration and the helplessness. Sadly, most men need these affirmations so much more than women.

I’m sure alot of us can relate to the emotions he feels, or that I feel, and even D who would feel the same I’m sure, once he’s able to process his emotions.

I don’t have the answers. But I know one thing. We have to go through Pain and Grief, and not around it. It’s not helpful to just find an outlet to numb the emotions just because they are overwhelming.

We have to let go of expectations from people around us. We have to stop caring so much about what society thinks. We have to give ourselves more self care, be more in tuned with who we are and what we feel. We have to be more honest! Especially with the people who love the most. Especially with ourselves. We have to realize that we are our greatest critics, and that at the end of the day, we often hold ourselves prisoners, when all we have to do is learn to forgive, let go and embrace positive parts. It’s also extremely important to stay true to yourself and not react unnecessarily.

Healing an emotional wound is so very similar to a physical one. The deeper the cut, the longer it takes to heal. Your body goes through the pain for a while, you get used to certain movements that would cause it to hurt more and so you readjust and adapt. You train your body to get stronger in other aspects so that its able to support the injury better. The same goes with healing an emotional wound. You address it, you focus more on loving yourself and achieving a deep sense of respect and peace, and you slowly wait for the wound to scab, and then heal. A scar will probably form at first and over time the scar will still be there, but after a while it will fade. You’ll forget that it was there, but once in a while stumble upon it, remember what the pain felt like but no longer feel it anymore. That’s the true kind of healing that I want.

I hope more people choose not to run away from grief. It’s terrifying. And at times it requires us to welcome unbearable truths about ourselves. It might make us feel disgusted with our mistakes, and force us to wonder how the hell we ever made those decisions. It could also teach us to realise we are only human and that we all have lessons worth learning. I hope we learn to share more about our struggles. Grab a friend and a bottle of wine, sit for 2 or 3 hours and spill it all out. Sometimes friends can be our best therapists.

If we could all choose to either judge/be judged or love/be loved, wouldn’t we choose the latter if we only knew that’s all anyone ever really wants?