When I had trouble catching up on my studies, I hid it from my parents. When it came to matters of the heart and having my heart broken by the guys I dated, I turned to friends instead. When I was lost and confused about life after graduation, I turned to Google for advice. My parents didn’t deserve to be disappointed, and I never felt comfortable to share. Call it pride, call it fear but it was never a natural way of my life to talk about my feelings and emotions with my parents so openly. And now that I’m a working adult with my own social circles and partner, there are more distractions and lesser reasons for me to talk with my parents. Perhaps we were just that stereotypical Asian family who avoided complicated topics and shunned from anything related to sex. When I asked why I was growing hair at my nether regions, my mother would tell me that it is because I didn’t wash my vagina clean enough. When I had my first period and asked why we (girls) had periods, my dad said it’s just something that makes you an ‘official woman’. They never elaborated more than that and I never probed. Sometimes I wonder if this is why I’m so gullible today. However, the ‘Asian culture’ was stronger during my parents’ days and yet they still remain close to their siblings. Even though we all live separate lives, every family gathering filled our home with warmth and energy, there was always laughter and chatter. Perhaps this is the legendary kampong spirit that everyone talks about. What happened with my generation then? Perhaps it’s because life was much simpler then. In place of movies or video games, entertainment was playing marbles or fives stones with siblings or the neighbours’ kids. Social gatherings meant you had to interact with people instead of being on your phone. As much as it feels distant, the thought of losing my parents still scares me. Besides the pain of never seeing them again, I worry that losing them would also mean losing the only thing that holds my brother and I together. We were raised by the same parents and only two years apart, but we couldn’t be more different. We have led two very separate lives and we barely look alike – we were never close, not when we were young and not now. I knew a girl in my secondary school who had a brother I wished I had. He was a senior in our school and he’d always walk her home. Even when my friend stayed back for CCAs or simply to hang out with her friends, her brother would wait in school until she was done. I wanted that protective and cool brother who would not only be my guardian angel if someone shoots rubber bands at me but would also teach me how to fire these rubber bands back with twice the power. Instead, most of the interactions I had with my brother involved us fighting between ourselves. Now that we’re older, my brother makes an effort to communicate and connect with me despite working and living in another country most of the year, but it never feels right. We speak in different languages and our conversations lack depth but I still hope that eventually my brother and I will find a connection we never had. I just hope my brother believes it, too. After all, blood is always thicker than water. Also read, 12 S’poreans Reveal The Most Endearingly Embarrassing Habits Of Their Mums.My parents’ love for my sibling and I is undeniable, but so is the ever-growing gap between us.
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