EXPECTATIONS

You know what I hate? I hate being compared to somebody else. Unless it’s academically, then fine, I guess that’s what enables a teacher to mark criterias fairly. HOWEVER, when I am compared to somebody else for what I am and what I do, I get so angry that I could dig my nails into my own palms while I clutch my hands with fury. Every one of us is different. Personalities, styles, interests, appearances. We are all made up of different qualities and characteristics and that’s what makes every single person interesting. A person’s interesting because he/she posseses traits that others don’t have and are, therefore, exotic. So knowing this, you really can’t expect everyone to be exactly the same. You can’t expect everyone to be perfectly cloned species with no flaws.  And certainly, my grandparents shouldn’t expect me to be the absolutely perfect granddaughter that’s supposedly meant to bring them pride. A granddaughter that they can show off to the whole world.

They want me to be perfect. ABSOLUTELY perfect. They want me to achieve perfect grades (straight As) and become a doctor one day after studying and graduating from the highest education level available (not like I am anyway). They don’t only expect me to be a bright student whose brain was meant to be so big that could explode, but, they also want me to look perfect as well. They want me to have perfectly healthy skin, flawless face, pointy nose, big eyes, slim chin, etc. Not only that, I am also supposed to be a weight that’s in the 40s range while achieving a height of 165 at the minimum? Perfect perfect perfect. Everything must be perfect. WHY MUST I?

They just want me to be perfect so they can show me off to their friends. They enjoy the compliments. The flattering.

“Your granddaughter so beautiful! Your granddaughter so intelligent! Wow, you such young age and your granddaughter so mature already! You lucky people.”

Then, they would reply…

“No, lah! No way, lah! Not compared YOURS.”

(For those of you who don’t know, in mandarine, ‘lah’ is a term that can be used to add a friendly atmosphere. I think my GPs needed that to hide the fact that they might have been a bit “jealous” ? I could be wrong though. I’m not a mind reader.)

As if that wasn’t enough, they expect me to hide my flaws too so their reputation of having “wonderful granddaughters” won’t go down. Just because my legs are fat for an Asian, they expect me to wear long pants. SUMMER’S APPROACHING. Scorching hot already. And they expect me to wear long pants? Puh-lease, I’m not trying to be much of a rebel to them but, I seriously ain’t gonna wear any suffocating pants just because I have “embarassing” legs. Apparently, my legs are very short too. Wearing pants will make them appear longer. I see why they prefer me wearing long pants. They wan’t me to grow at least 4cm more since I am 161cm. I think that’s an alright height. I just have to wear my heels and I’ll be around 169cm. I must admit I like that feeling, though. HOWEVER, that doensn’t give my grandparents the right to compare me and critcize me infront of their friends. Just because their friend’s daughter is a mother effin’ giant… she was 168cm when she was my age, apparently. They think that’s normal. I can derive from this fact that they live under a rock. How many 168cm Asian girls can you see when you walk into the mall? Not many, I can assure you. You know… most of us Asian girls are not very active, so we don’t grow much. Oh, speaking of being active, they even got me a basketball hoop so I could play bball and grow taller. Too bad, I never played much due to studies. I think this encouragement from them was triggered by their friend’s giant daughter. They wanted me to grow tall so bad that they even bought this chinese medicines to cook. They are so disgusting and stinky. The substance is black and icky. Along with the chinese medicine, came the growing pills WITH THE POWDERED CHINESE MEDICINE seeled inside them. This is how desperate they were about my height.

You know? These Asians love the height. When they compliment somebody tall, they ALWAYS say:

“Ehhhh? Not bad! Not bad! Very handsome/beautiful! Ah, look at those long legs. Is like model!”

MODEL.

That’s right.

They love it because it links to all these things that they love. Fame, money, beauty, perfection, good appeal, etc. No wonder they used to want me to be around 168cm but since I didn’t grow much after primary school, they kinda gave up on that hope and lowered their standards to 165cm.

omg.. 803 words already… I must be boring you guys, if you’ve actually read up to here. But yeah.

I HATE BEING COMPARED TO THEIR STUPID FRIEND’S DAUGHTERS!!!

SO WHAT IF ALL THREE CHILDREN OF ANOTHER ONE OF THEIR FRIENDS GOT OP1S? DO I CARE? NO!!!

It’s not like I am blood-related to them and I should get an OP1. Wth!! Besides, my year level is the last group to be going through OP system. They’re gonna change it to the NSW style or something. But I don’t really care. Like wtf. I just want an OP2…not OP1. Why study so hard for OP1 when all I need is OP2? I don’t want to be a bloody doctor. You know you have to touch dead bodies for a whole week as an assignment during the uni course? That is soooooo grosss!! I am definitely, absolutely, surely not doing that. I can’t even touch a dead cockroach. How can I touch dead humans? Ugh!

JOONIE

(This isn’t me. I found it on Google. The uniform is from Bei yi Nu, Taiwan’s top all-females school.)

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