I’m feeling weirdly sentimental tonight, I’m sure due in no small part to walking past the graduands on my way home, all gussied up for their ceremony. There’s always someone graduating or starting a real adult job, or getting engaged or spawning a child, or hitting some other milestone I can’t envision for myself right now. Surprise, I’m still terrified at the thought of any of those things happening to me.
Ordinarily, it’d trigger some internal freakout over my own lack of progress, but more and more, I’m finding that feeling being overridden. Seeing people getting such joy from all these things… It makes my silly little heart swell. Yes, okay, I know they’re not my milestones (like hell I’m ready for them yet, anyway) but seeing people hitting them and how altogether happy they are somehow makes me beam all the same.
I’ve been helping out at the same op shop for over a year, and only just learnt this past weekend that we have a key for the padlocked bins outside. For over a year, I’ve been feeding the contents of rubbish bags little by little through this tiny crack I managed to wedge open under the lid. Good lord, the number of boxes I’ve needlessly had to jump on to crush them to a manageable size…
I get that people are curious. And it’s fine. I’m not saying don’t ask me. I don’t mind all that much, really. It’s just that I’m still not sure what to say. Even now, as a
kid fully grown adult of migrant parents, I can’t quite figure out how to respond when my accent clearly screams, 'I'm from here!' and my features say, 'No, I'm not!’ It’s hard to know what will placate whoever’s asking, because even my standard answer ('I was born here, but my parents are from the Philippines,’ if you’re playing along at home) gets follow up questions somehow? Like, I don’t know what you want to hear? I don’t know, I don’t think I had a point here… Got asked at the bus station earlier, that’s all. Carry on.