Alien or normal?
When I was a kid, being an alien was the norm.
It seems like yesterday when I departed from the comfort of my home to a new and strange place.
The language was different. Instead of rice, there’s an obsession with potatoes — baked, fried and even boiled. And my favorite braised meat was now taboo.
The only thing familiar? The same stifling environment that impedes progress: the weird rule that dictates if I am born with a spear, I must like mirrors. But the bodies of Venus people hold no appeal — the loose hanging flesh at the front freaks me out. It is the spears of other Mars people that interest me. My spear sharpens for other spears.
It was a very stressful time. I had to hide and conceal myself so that I could blend in. Thankfully, not knowing the language was a blessing sometimes. I did not have to lie. My silence was often taken as an inability to express — something that I am especially grateful for when I was asked which Venus people were the most worthy to spar with. I became the quiet and silent one.
It took me a while to understand and appreciate the different cultures. But it was only later that I realized I should not have to hide. I missed out on opportunities to love simply because I was afraid. That was a stupid mistake. I was afraid to be different, or rather I was led to believe that I should not be different. I am writing this with the hope that no one else should bear the same regret I have.
It was the regret that eventually pushed me out of my shell — in other words, FOMO — to make me try social apps and reaffirmed that I should be myself, to live as I am. I hope that your journey is fueled by courage and faith — a faith that there are people who will love you, and in turn, you will have the courage to find them.
— L