Saturday, April 28, 2018


A couple of nights ago, when I was with my best friends, they saw that between my phone and transparent phone cover I'd displayed an Instax of us, in our onesies from 2016. I told them it is one of my very favourite memories because it was one night before my cousin had passed on in an accident, one week before I found out I was pregnant, and about two weeks before my miscarriage. My nose was still burned from the LA sun, as is apparent from the photo. I love these people so much, and I forget that we each have our own fights in life. For one of us, it is to carve a space in the medical world. She is a beauty, so naturally her worth is undermined. In Singapore, there are very few Malay doctors in proportion to the population, let alone female ones, but she is on her way to making her mark. One of us is a reminder to me that your social media experience is not you and does not define you, she doesn't have an Instagram nor Facebook, she doesn't need to show anyone anything about her life, and yet it is still worth as much happiness and love as anyone else's, if not more. One of us is me, and I am always fighting my own fight against the patriarchy, I fail sometimes, a lot of the time. My existence is to fight against the notion that a woman born Malay and into a Muslim family must necessarily have the same beliefs, must not show my skin, nor have tattoos nor piercings, nor have sex indiscriminately, before I am considered wholesome. I reject the idea that your parents and family define you and your existence, you are your own person and you can be wholesome however you want to be. We are not anyone else's opinion of us. You define you. #love
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