It seems like whenever we learn a new concept, we try to apply it to everything and forget that there are things outside of that spectrum. Since hearing about love, we’ve been asking: What is love? Is this love? Do I know how to love? The same goes for success, for norms, for happiness.
Ever since we learned Euclid’s first postulate, that a straight line may be drawn from any one point to any other point. We have been constantly obsessed with connecting the dots: linear progression, linear deduction.
We draw a line between A and B, then B and C, hoping somehow we get to connect A and C altogether. Maybe that’s a bit too conceptual. Let me rephrase it: it’s like whenever there’s something that happens, we try to find a definite answer — someone to blame, something else to explain it.
Pft, it’s not that simple. If you see yourself as someone rational, you are probably all frustrated with what I’m saying: deduction doesn’t work in some cases and that …
Causation sometimes doesn’t exist
It’s frustrating. This is why geeks like Sherlock Holmes struggle to solve cases involving too much human emotions.
After all, we are emotional. And everything is just a mess.
The thing is, the mess can still makes sense. It helps alleviate the guilt from the one who fucked up, the blame from the one who was at the receiving end. It helps me reconcile with the fact I am not perfect, and inevitably, neither are my parents.
Sometimes, we assume that if a person says something hurtful to us, they must have something against us. We assume that, if a girl is married to a rich guy, she must be the gold digger. We think that if our parents ever neglected us at one point, they must have never loved us.
When we have C, we are always on this quest to pinpoint A. Who knows if A really caused C. Even then, we try to draw a straight line connecting them.
The A to my “Coming home”
The other day, a girl asked why I came back home. Man, it took me 5 minutes thinking, and I still couldn’t give her a straight answer. Having more time wouldn’t have helped.
I don’t have a straight answer. I don’t know the A to my C. There’s no A to my C. There were too many things that contributed to that outcome. Without any of them, things might not have turned out that way.
- Having given Singapore a second chance with a new job
- Having seen the gas-lighting and manipulation in my current workplace
- Having the offer that pays better than my current job
- Having been better at communicating with my parents at home
- Having tried living at home for 2 months, and knew I enjoyed it
- Having felt for the first time that feeling of homesickness
- Having chosen an apartment that if I ended my lease, there’s no fine
- Having tried other places and they didn’t work — for good reasons
- And probably, many more.
Sometimes things happen because of everything everywhere all at once — we should phrase this as that.
Maybe that’s how the Daniels directors came up with the name of their Oscar-winning movie. Maybe I’m not the first one to realize what we just read. Maybe that’s how people reconcile with their own traumas as well.
It was a mess, but the mess makes sense
Knowing that, I felt a bit less resentful towards my parents. I knew just because my father was absent during a few years of my life, it didn’t mean he doesn’t love me. It was all that he could do and knew how to do back then, and all that the situation allowed.
Knowing that, I felt a bit less resentful towards myself. During my burnout, I listened to Adele’s Hello for the first time after reading that it was in fact a song written to herself in the past. The lyrics went:
Hello from the other side
I must’ve called a thousand times
To tell you I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done
But when I call, you never seem to be homeHello from the outside
At least I can say that I’ve tried
To tell you I’m sorry for breaking your heart
But it don’t matter, it clearly doesn’t tear you apart anymore
For a long time, I held myself accountable for many of the mistakes I made in my years working abroad. I should have known better. The A to my mistakes was just me fucking things up.
Looking back now, given what was there, who was there, I did the best I could, given what I knew at that moment. It was a mess, but I am where I am today thanks to what happened.
For a long time, my friend blamed her parent for being too giving and gullible. One day, she asked her mother: “Why did you allow the people who took advantage of you to stay?”
Her mother responded: “They were good people for many times in the way you couldn’t see. At times when you don’t have much, your intrusive thoughts win over — that maybe you should be selfish for once. And it’s okay. I’m happy now, and that’s all that matters”.
Maybe after all, we cannot blame anyone
Have I been jealous? Yes. Have I been judgy? Yes. Did I ever acted out of line? Sure did. Have I been petty? Absolutely.
People could have been like this at any given point. We expect people to be “good” people by adding value to us in some ways. But sometimes, when everything gets messed up everywhere all at once, the one factor that could have made them be “good” was simply nonexistent.
(This doesn’t justify anyone who intentionally go out there hurting others. Those people, if I ever see them again, I’ll make sure they get what they deserve)
At those times, not having to struggle for the sake of someone else seems like the best that people could do. Like I once said in The thing about being a good person, being good is not effortless: it’s about active emotional regulation and a strong base of support.
Sometimes, things happens because of a universe of points: A, B, F, G, H, I, O, W, Z, … Sometimes in this world, it’s not just you and whatever you were obsessing over for an answer. And I find it soothing.
So, it’s time you stop blaming yourself, as long as you didn’t murder or intentionally hurt anybody.
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