I Finally Found..

This whole week has made me thinking more about myself. The purpose of my life. My goals. People I love, like, dislike and hate. Things that I used to enjoy but no longer do. New things that I'm curious about. This bring me to blogging. One thing that I found hard at first but now it seems the next best thing in life.

I always wonder why some people get too caught up in this blogging thingy? What's so fun about it? All I can see is blog is just a mere platform for a person to voice up whatever it is in his mind (which can turn out to be extremely wicked!) or to express his feelings. Well, I figured that we can always do that without blog. But the good thing about blog is you can do all that by being anonymous. No one has to know who you really are. Blogging can make even the most timid person come out from his shell and do, I mean write, things that no one could ever imagine he would in real life.

As for me, I realized that blogging is a way for me to share the little knowledge that I have, and most importantly a place where I share my feelings, which I found hard to do in real life. I mean I do not have any problems express my affection to people I love, or share my thoughts with others. I just find it is hard for me to share my disappointment or problems. I just keep them to myself. I seldom share them with anyone else. It is not that I don't want them to think that I'm hopeless, it's just I don't want them to feel the pain the way I do. Well, people don't get hurt by the things they don't know right?

As a young child, I was very quiet. You can only hear my voice when I was with friends. I lived with my parents, and Big Sis was often at my grandparents'. My parents were wonderful. They still are. Even though we didn't live on bed of roses, they somehow did their best to provide me with my needs. Dad's work required him to travel to different town everyday so he often came home quiet late. Even though Mom was home early from work, she was ill. I wasn't sure what her illness because she always pretended she was ok. I still remember waking up at night seeing her very sick and how Dad attended her even when he came home from work at 2 am. That was my first lesson about love. Love makes people sacrifice for their love ones, even it means putting themselves in jeopardy. Perhaps knowing that Mom was sick and Dad has to do lotsa things forbid me from sharing my feelings with them.

When Mom and Dad were away at work, I was sent to my grandparents' house, together with my cousins and Big Sis. I wasn't sure if I was happy when I was here, and I wasn't sure I hate it either. All I can remember was how much I wanted to go back home. I felt I was out of place. I envied Big Sis, who was the apple of my grandparents' eyes while I was the black sheep. Everything I did was wrong. I was always the one who got scolded at even when it was someone else's fault. My aunts, who were living with my grands, added salt to the wound. I wasn't given chance to defend myself. And I knew crying would only made things worse so I kept everything inside. I couldn't tell my parents as I didn't want them to worry. Sometimes I just hope that people could see me the way they saw Big Sis but I knew it wouldn't happen. But still, I was happy for Big Sis because at least she felt love the way I could only imagined.

Perhaps these experiences make it so hard for me to open up to other people. It is more comfortable for me to keep it inside rather than sharing with others. But it is not easy, it was never easy. When I blog, I feel a sense of freedom in term expressing my feelings. I can blog as if no one will read, and if there are people who read it, they only know it was written by an Aida.