The moment I stepped into the house, his face grew stern and he growled, "What is it you want? What is it that you really want?".

I stood there, not knowing whether I was allowed to come in or not.

I thought to myself, you can do this, you came here to do this story. you can do this.

------

Some time in August last year, an NUS professor approached me about a story. He sounded very keen on letting the media in on this one because his daughter was involved in it.

Her classmate had killed herself, and the whole school had tried to keep it under wraps. But after two boys had killed themselves in a space of a few days and months before the latest one happened (timeline is a bit foggy in my mind right now), tongues started to wag and parents turned to whatsapp to discuss. They were convinced that the education system had something to do with it. Stress? Pressure? Expectations?

The professor was incensed because according to him, there weren't proper systems in place to help students deal with stress and cope with their problems. There was only one counsellor for every student that walked in with a problem. He was particularly furious that the school did not carry out the right procedure in informing students that their classmate had died. According to him, their teacher had merely said that if anyone had problems, "please approach me. otherwise, please prepare for your examinations in two weeks' time".

I listened. And I was hooked. This was definitely a news story.

But I knew it was a difficult one. Suicide, a topic that's not often talked about in Singapore. Plus, it was a tall order for a junior person in the newsroom to take on. I was merely 2 months into the job at the time.

Nevertheless, I took it on and pushed for the story with my editor. She relented.

It took me a couple of months to firm up the story. What the story angle was. Who I should speak to.

More importantly, why I should even do the story.

I chased profiles. Parents whose child died. Siblings. Friends. My editor helped me find a profile through a conference about suicide. I managed to speak to the writer who wrote a book about his friend's suicide. I crafted my message in the most delicate way to convince him to speak to me.

Alas, the digital team got to him first. I lost that profile. My editor chided me.

I even hunted down an MP who was willing to speak to me. After coaxing and sending a personal email, he relented. During the interview, I asked him, what was the government going to do about the rise in youth suicides? What can teachers, parents and students do to help vulnerable youth?

Even after that interview, I didn't know what the news angle was. Do we go with the government's pov? As with many of our news stories? I was lost.

My editor provided an angle about the fact that students needed to build resilience. I disagreed, yet didn't know what other angle to go with. I was confused and flustered by the story's lack of development - yet, felt the pressure to deliver. Was I sending out the right message with this story?

Then, I managed to speak to a girl whom I had been conversing with for weeks, to try to persuade her to come on camera. Her sister had taken her own life just a few months ago.

No other media outlet had gotten to her and I wanted to. Because... her sister was that girl from the school the prof was talking about.

------

I entered the house, clutching my bag and also, my heart.

The girl who I was messaging for weeks was in the house with her mom and dad. I sensed that the family was not too at ease with my presence.

Slightly terrified by the man who seemed to be seething with rage, I sat down, and started to introduce myself. Why I wanted to talk to them and what my story was about. They asked me questions about where and when the story was going to air. What use would it be to talk about their daughter's suicide.

Soon enough, they warmed up to me. They told me about their daughter - how she was a bright child. They showed me her accolades - top in science and english in primary school. How she didn't even need tuition. The fact that she was gifted. They also told me that she had the loveliest heart. How she wanted to be a vegetarian because she learnt how animals suffered before they were slaughtered. I had already known she had a kind heart, because I trawled through her blog and read her posts hungrily. She wrote about how she wanted to do more, yet felt so tired with the world - that she wasn't going to be young forever and that she was afraid she might lose that drive and heart to help people in need.

Something hit me during my conversation with their family and that was during the moment her sister revealed to me the contents of her farewell note.

What shocked me first, was her apology. Not to her family, but to her friends... that she was not brave enough to carry on living. That she was sorry for giving up the fight. Her sister told me that her sister's friends had the same suicidal thoughts. They had confided in her that they too, were troubled but what kept them going was each other. The saddest part was the fact that the day before she took her own life, a friend had come to her to seek advice. According to her mom, she had wanted to talk to that friend about her own problems, but in the end, she became the listening ear. Her sister said she'd sought help from her school's counsellor, but felt that the sessions did not work. Eventually, she stopped seeking help all together.

The next thing that I found out made me rethink my entire story.

The girl's sister told me that in her letter, she did not reveal what made her take her own life. But what she did say was... that it had NOTHING to do with studies. That she did not kill herself because she was stressed. And that if the media were to say it had anything to do with it, she warned them not to believe. She was adamant about this.

And that brought me to a deadlock. How was I to tell the story now? How accurate would it be?

------

Back in the newsroom, my editors hunted me for the story. "Where is your suicide story? When can I see it? Who have you spoken to? What is your angle?"

I was stressed as hell. Helpless also. I was not gum yet with any of my editors at that point of time. And I was terrified to ask for help.

I started to write my story any ways, and went ahead with the angle my editor said I should go with - that students need to build resilience.

I felt like I was losing my deadline because the story seemed so old and I was tired of talking about suicide by then. Is this story of relevance anymore? Who still wants to hear about suicide - it'd been weeks since the case happened and all media outlets had covered the topic.

Except me.

------

It was the day of the recorded interview with the girl's sister. I got my cameraman prepared. I told him to be sensitive to the grieving family. Her parents declined to be on camera and I respected their decision. I could also tell that they were not ready to speak about her death either.

Her sister spoke with emotion as she recounted the day she found out about her sister's death, how her family was coping, and what she loved most about her sister.

After the interview, we all sat down to read letters from the girl's friends given to the family and looked at old photos. The atmosphere was light. There were also times when there were tension - when I asked if they saw the signs. The blame game began - "why didn't you tell me she posted this photo on Instagram?" The regrets poured in - "i should have been able to tell that she was sad the day she walked upstairs to her room without talking to any of us."

But there was also, a lot, a lot, of love for this girl. The man who confronted me at the entrance of the house was actually the person whose heart grieved the most. Her dad had adored her - fetched her to school, supported her at events. And apparently, she was the reason for him to carry on living a good life. According to his wife, their daughter was the reason why he decided to change his unhealthy lifestyle - so that he could live to see his daughter do well in the future.

My heart was torn, I was wretched.

------

With the interview done, my story was finally complete. My deadline... I didn't know if there was still even one. Anywhos, I wasn't very proud of the story. I was perplexed, not knowing if I had fulfilled the criteria of a good journalistic story.

There are three rules to good journalism: A-C-T. Accuracy, Contextualisation, Timeliness.

I wasn't sure I hit all three or even, any of the three.

My editor told me, "I can tell, you're getting very emotional about the story. A journalist needs to be fair and objective. You are not."

I took it quite hard then. I didn't know what to do - whether to be a human or journalist first.

I handed in the story quite late. It didn't seem like any of the bulletins wanted to take my story. Nobody seemed interested in pushing it out either. Even I lost faith.

In the end, I made the call - to kill the story.

------

"This is for your family"

I handed this small bouquet of flowers to the family for it to be placed at the girl's altar. And then I left the house.

A week later, I called the sister to tell her I was dropping the story. She said it was okay, and that she told her parents about it. They too, thought it might have been a good thing for the family that the story wasn't published. A sense of relief washed over me.

Her sister arranged to meet me one last time again and we met to talk over at a Starbucks joint. I was happy she asked for the meet up, it gave me somewhat of a peace of mind.

We parted ways, but somehow I got the nudging feeling that I'll meet her again.

------

A sobering post to end 2017.

I'd been wanting to write this piece for a pretty long time - my struggle with this story and how it has affected the way I think about journalism now.

But I never felt like it was the right time to talk about it until now - took me a whole year to come to terms with it.

It's 'the story that broke me' because I had felt so much conflicting emotions.

I learnt so much about depression, suicide and how it affects the young. I believe some time in the future, I will revisit this topic and tackle it.

The story has also made me think about the way I operate as a journalist. It was so tough separating myself from a story that took a toll on my emotional and mental wellbeing. I'd always thought journalists needed to be empathetic to their profiles, and so I tried my best to give justice to the people who shared with me their stories.

The whole process was taxing, working with my editors, profiles, and feeling like I couldn't pull through. I thought I'd let a lot of people down - the NUS prof, the family, my bosses...

and even myself.

I had doubts about whether I was good enough to be a journalist, especially since I am one who listens and feels deeply about issues. I thought maybe I'd be better off telling stories about people instead of raising questions about issues.

But I have learnt, and I now understand why people say that sometimes, we need to separate ourselves from the stories that we put out.

As much as I felt deeply for my profile, I realised also that it was important to keep my emotions in check to tell the story objectively. Sure, I am human and I am inclined to stand for what I believe but I realised my role is not to campaign for causes.

I chose to be a journalist, one who speaks to people and disseminates accurate information... not one who simply tells people's stories through emotion without fact-checking.

I seek the truth.

In a world that can be so complicated and noisy... the truth can also mean different things to different people.. with people voicing their different opinions. And so, my job is to tell it as it is.

Of course, that's not to say that I no longer want to have empathy for my profiles, but I think emotions can be a double-edged sword - too much of it and I will cease to function properly in my profession and too little of it will not allow me to connect with people and my own stories.

Such a balancing act, as with so many things in life.

This was a painful lesson, but I think I've grown quite a lot in the past year. It has been a good run, 2017.

I sense 2018 will be crazy exciting. That I will be meeting and talking to a lot of people. And discovering a lot of new things. And most definitely growing a whole lot more as a journalist :)

Not married to me, of course. but we two cute hor.

... and who's gonna miss him the most??? MEEEEE.

It came as a surprise to my family just about two to three weeks ago. I mean, me, my mom and dad all knew the girl was probably the one for my brother, but we didn't expect it to be THIS fast. They're getting hitched next year!!

And I'm soooo excited for the wedding. Cos... I've always been excited to attend weddings of people who are close to me. This one hit closest to home!! And who knew it'd be THIS soon??? Not me!!

ANDD who knows, I'mma be an aunt soon ;)

I already have a nickname for his kid. He/she will be the cutest I swear. Gonna be a fat kid just like my brother when he was a newborn.

My entire family's pretty hyped up about 2018, so much things going on - my bro's getting married, my dad's turning 60, my mom's gonna retire. Me? Well, that's still a surprise hahah.

My own brother isn't even THAT excited about his own wedding. Him and his girlfriend or should I say fiancee... (god damn, he hasn't even properly proposed to her yet, it's cuz they clinched the ever-most-singaporean-way-of-saying-will-you-marry-me- I don't even need to tell you what)... they're just trying to settle things like the wedding venue, blahblahblah. They're having a wedding lunch btw! (all the rage these days)

While I'm excited and happy for him, I'm also melancholic and sad that I will be "losing" my brother. I clean my house every fortnight when I don't have work, and when I clean his room, I get so pissed cos it's dirty as hell. But last week while vacuuming and mopping his room, I thought to myself, well, this room's not gonna be dirty anymore.. cos well, he ain't gonna be here no more.

Sad
sad
saddd.

I mean, we grew up together, for the entirety of our lives. We used to sleep in the same room up till we were about 9 or 10. Our favourite game was playing pretend with our soft toys. Simple as it is, the nicest thing that we'd do every night would be to say goodnight to one another before either of us slept. We were that close.

Until of course, he had a girlfriend and then I was relegated to second place HAHAH. Yknow what they say about mother-in-laws? For his girlfriend, it's the sister-in-law whom she has to watch out for. Aka, um, me?

So I guess, it's a mixture of emotions. Happiness, sadness and regret for not cherishing those moments when my brother was with me all throughout my 25 years of life. Only when he's leaving my home, do I truly realise what an awesome big brother he's been all this time.

But hey, life goes on. I'm happy for him, happy for this new life he's about to embark on. I'm excited!!! It's insane!!

And this is strange, I think writing this post has made me feel so... young again. All the exclamation marks. I feel so comfortable, yet uncomfortable at the same time, talking like that. These days my work requires me to type formally, "US President Donald Trump has denied calling North Korean leader Kim Jong-Un short and fat".

So writing this post... feels quite a relief. Yet, strange. I think you kinda understand what I'm trying to say. It's funny, cos you guys are seeing the changes in me and my personal life.

It's been a journey and I still feel close to you, the reader. And today I'm talking about my brother - someone you've prolly heard about since he's sprinkled in some of my posts. It's a big thing I'm sharing with you!!

Have I already mentioned it??

He's getting married ahhh!

My friend's birthday~

This was us last year

And this was us this year - 23rd October (which was also his birthday hence the first photo)

I got to see amazing views this time around

I'll leave you to guess which ones are his siblings. They all have very distinct looks.

Having spent a few days with them, I felt the warmth and colour of his family. They were so open and caring to each other, as well as to others like me. Above all, they were happy.

I witnessed that when I went snorkelling with two of his siblings one day at an island.

I could see how relaxed, and confident they were out in the sea. And it reflected in the way they carried themselves in life. They were so in touch with nature and with themselves.
The speaker said, "Our education system has form, but no substance".

I met some of them again this year

where trees grow, fish swim and flowers bloom

Here's me and ma twin

I love to tell people that my mom and I have the same birthday. I must've been the most painful and joyful gift she's ever had!!

And I know this sounds terribly solemn, but I told my mom that when she's gone, my birthday would also be terribly sad because a part of me isn't celebrating together with me. They say mothers and daughters don't always get along, but I'd like to say that we always have.

The only thing I'd dispute is our horoscope. We're both Libras, but we are for sure so damn different. I am so much more like my dad in terms of personality... That's why I've never really believed in horoscopes *shrugs*

Btw it isn't my birthday just yet, it falls on the19th.

Which was why...

I was sooo surprised when they celebrated mine!!

It was just a simple cake, but truly, I think it was pure happiness that I'd felt last Thursday night. I couldn't stop smiling when my old wkw uni buds surprised me after dinner at old airport road's hawker centre. I'd always been good at sussing things out. So this one... I gotta give it to them ;-)

25... Think this is the best age to be - I'm enjoying my youth, I've got a bit of time, and I've some money.

Plus, I've my friends and familyyy

Old friends (jb outing last Sunday)

Older friends :-)

New friends...

And newer friends!!

Who also turn out to be crazy my colleagues

ALWAYS STAY A BIT INSANE

and remind myself that I don't know everything.
And that there's a big world out there.

Before I get excited, I must also remember to take one step at a time. That everyone is at their own pace at different stages, and comparison takes me nowhere. To do that, managing my expectations is essential. While achievements are good, a little bit of tension and hiccups are necessary.

Ommm...

It's good to be twenty five.

Am currently soooo obsessed with this song arghhh. I'll be groovinnn every single time I listen to this (which is basically every minute of my life right now hahaha) Love old school song remixes.

Speakin of dancing,

LAST NIGHT'S F1 CONCERT WAS THE BOMBBBB.

With ma loverz

Sarah thiammmm - the wkw spirit lives on in every one of us even after school la

this one needs no introduction teehhee

We were at Ariana Grande's concert (yeah i secretly love her songs it's such an embarrassment but still, she's soooo good. live as well)

Poor Huiquan was too squashed up with the mob that she had to quit half way to get some air at the back hahah.

Dustbin babies

Right after that, it was the Chainsmokers and she was BACK IN ACTION. I'm not so much a fan of them cuz so much electronic tech music. Still, we danced the night away sooo much fun!!! AM I GROWING YOUNGER??? I've been missing out on all this during uni days - broke and studying full-time - ain't nobody got time and money to be having fun then.

So now, I realise what I've been missin' out all this while HAHAH.

Still, never too late ;) Out with Huiquan's colleagues as well - look at her cheeky face!!!

SO GLAD I CAME WITH THESE TWO THEY'RE THE BESTTTTTT

I had a chat with a Muslim colleague back in June when it was the fasting period. I was sitting beside him and wondering why the hell he was sucking on a sweet, and I noticed an opened bottle of green tea on his table. First thing that came to my head, "wah this one rebel ah".

So dearie me just had to ask... with hesitation and a sense of trepidation... why wasn't he fasting like the rest of the Muslims.

He wasn't offended or anything, in fact, he was quite happy to answer me. "I'm questioning my relationship with my Creator". I was quite surprised by his answer because I had always assumed Muslims were always quite certain of their faith because most of them, in fact, almost all Malays that I know, were born into the religion. Cradle believers. Seeing how they're always so disciplined in prayer (every friday, and certain times of the day), I thought they'd never question. Were they even allowed to question??

He said he didn't want to fast this year because he wanted time off to think about his religion. I didn't get to ask what was bugging him, but as with all things intangible like faith, I suppose he was struggling in believing the Almighty's existence. He even cited how someone so pious like Mother Theresa questioned her relationship with God, suggesting that he wasn't alone in his thoughts. I read about her story too and understood where he was coming from.

Then it was my turn.

"What's your religion? Are you a Christian?" I shook my head, smiled, stretched my arms and said, "I'm a freethinker!" A bit too jolly I reckon haha. He smiled and said, "Do you believe in a God then?" I said that although I don't adhere to any one religion, I would like to believe that there is a God. That's the idealist in me talking.

I continued, "I don't have a religion because..." :

1) I've always believed that religions were man-made to quell man's fears - the afterlife. Therefore the creation of heaven and hell, good and evil, right and wrong.

2) Religions are backwarded. Traditionalist. And because most of them refuse to evolve with the times, and because they're guarded with so much sanctity, some people have chosen to "protect" the erosion of "morality". At all costs. Resulting in extremism and fundamentalism, which leads me to my next point.

3) Religion has caused so much death, destruction and war to mankind. More than race and the colour of your skin, I've witnessed religion having power over any other factor to tear relationships and breed distrust amongst people. Working in the newsroom where I get to read stories from around the world, I see people fighting every single day merely because of their differing faiths.

The latter reason has always troubled me, ever since I was in JC when I studied History. In our essays, we could never leave out 'Differences in ideologies' as a factor in all the wars that started. I think if you leave it out, your essay sure fail. Palestine and Israel, India and Pakistan - never-ending wars since decades ago unresolved till this very day. And right now, even Buddhism - one of the most peaceful religions - is at war with Islam, the Rohingyas in Myanmar.

But I can never understand why people have to fight, because at the end of the day, I see that all of us - men, women, homo, muslim or buddhist - we all meet the same fate when we die.

And if there is a God, I see him welcoming all of us with open arms. "Believer" or not.

I told my colleague, "When I see Muslims, Jews and Christians fight one another, I feel like telling them, your God is the same God. You're all fighting for the same holy site - Jerusalem. And your religious scriptures have so many overlaps, (Jesus was a Jew. Both Allah and Jesus were messengers. Various persons in the Koran and Bible have similar stories), why can't you see that you're actually brothers in faith?"

Please, put down your arms and stop killing yourselves. If I were God, I would wake up all of your ideas.

Then of course, there are the many other questions such as, if God were here then why would he want to cause so much death and destruction. why make us suffer. why this and that.

Haiya, I also dunno la.

My colleague laughed and he agreed with what I said earlier.

I asked him, "Do you talk about this with your friends?". He nodded. "Are they Muslim?" He shook his head and replied, "Catholic".

I wasn't told why, but I'm thinking it's not easy to talk about questions of faith with your own community for a fear of being judged. That you're a bad apple for even asking these questions. They'd say trust in the path that God has for you and your obedience will be duly rewarded.

But I sincerely believe that God wants you to question too. Otherwise, what's a relationship with God when it's blind faith? Each time you question is an opportunity for a relationship renewal. It's always a work-in-progress.

There are also a few more reasons as to why I don't have a religion. This, I did not tell my colleague simply because the reasons never crossed my mind at the time. But more importantly, they're reasons that are a lot deeper and specific than the three I mentioned above.

If you think that I formulated all of my ideas on my own without being open to explore, you are wrong. Because I have. Many times. I've lost count of the different Protestant churches I've been to - even in other countries like New Zealand and Myanmar. I have visited Buddhist temples, as well as Catholic churches. (I've never been to a mosque and hindu temple though because of a difference in cultures and a lack of friends from those faiths) But I have tried.

Here's what I think about my experience so far:

1) I don't trust all religious leaders. Despite the numerous times that I've visited churches and attended service, I find it hard to subscribe to Christianity, especially to charismatic churches because they're too complicated. The language in which they speak is convoluted and laden with unnecessary emotion. I listen to the pastor, and while there are various times when I walk away feeling inspired, there have been too many times when I call out their bullshit. Instead of teachings, they play on human vulnerabilities and exploit them. Then when money comes into the equation, religious leaders themselves fall into a spiral of lies, deceit and corruption.

2) I don't trust all the people who attend these religious congregations. Many of them think they have higher moral authority than everyone else - I don't agree. You're not a Saint and like everyone else, you sin and commit mistakes. Who are you to judge? What's worse is that I've seen church goers judge other church goers. I don't think God rewards the person who prays the most number of times or dresses the best on Sundays. Life is not a competition to win God's favour.

To me, a relationship with God is simple. Just you and him and nothing else in-between.

Finally, there is one last reason why I still haven't subscribed to a religion:

3) There is a part of me that believes that actually, out there, somewhere, there is no God. That, there simply is no reason to our existence. How we are created. Why we are created. That these questions will never be answered. If you look at the cycle of life - Taoism is right. Everything exists in cycles. We live, we die and another life is born somewhere. That the best we can do is live the best life that we have now, where each day is to be thankful for and time spent with people we love is precious.

While it is a scary scenario and one that I do not advocate, I am not ruling it out either.

Death has been the one question no man has ever answered since the dawn of time - and there is a part of me that concedes. I surrender to the unknown. I won't bring in the discourse of Science VS Religion because I see those two as disparate. I believe there is a spiritual realm out there, which science cannot explain.

Ever since I was young, as far as my memory can go, I have always feared death - not knowing what would happen to me and that I will never see my loved ones again. Because of this, I cry when I think about death. But it also makes me laugh because I fear nothing else - not bugs, not ghosts, not public speaking.

I will never say never though. One day, I might subscribe to a religion when I'm convinced. When perhaps, the fear of death becomes too overwhelming. Or if a spiritual encounter comes round the corner.

I told my colleague that Buddhism and Christianity appeal to me. Buddhism for its teachings and Christianity for the idea of a benevolent God.

He nodded with a pensive look on his face. I leave him be and we carried on with work.

I really enjoyed that conversation. And if more people are willing to talk about their religious beliefs, in a respectful manner, we're one step towards understanding each other. That's what the world is lacking, and that's what we need if we want to live together.

WAZZZUPPP Check out how long my hair is now!!!

Ok lah, I went to cut it off two weeks ago so it's not THAT long anymore. I couldn't stand it so long. Just checkin in for a quickie to tell y'all I'm still very much alive. I don't know if I told you guys but I'm over at International News department now. Which means I write for the hourly bulletins on CNA on all things International. I must say this has been the busiest time of my career thus far. It's only been a month since the switch, or rather merger, since they merged the departments of Singapore and International producers into one. And it's a mad rush every hour to produce news. Not just that, I'm learning how to write business news as well - and that's another ball game altogether.

So the past month and a half, I've been exhausted. The only saving grace is that I no longer need to work the night shift (yay!) - normal office hours for me now from 8am-6pm. So I've got a social life yeh yeh yeh. And I realise how much I need it - also how much I've been lacking in it the past months. The funny thing about my schedule is that for all of us, we'll have one week that's a 6-day week (which means I only get one day off in a week and that's a Thursday) - good thing is the following week would be a 3-day week (which means I only work from Wednesday to Friday). While that sounds awesome, since we sorta have an extra day off, I've come to realise that I CRASH during my off days of the 3-day week. Meaning I'm just recuperating from the exhausting 6-day week. In other words, I never really get proper rest.

There's that part of me that NEEDS and CRAVES quiet time alone at home, so I was suffering. There needs to be at least a day in a week when I get to just coop myself at home and do nothing - no outings. Just me time. But the entire month and a half, I haven't found that time and space for myself due to social commitments that could not be turned down.

For example,

My German friend Nora, whom I met in New Zealand, came to Singapore!! And I hosted her at my home (to be honest, I was sooo tired from work that I didn't quite have the energy to entertain her enough) We visited the roof garden at Pinnacle @Duxton and it was my first time too and it was gorgeoussss - one of her fav places in SG too.

There was one Sunday when I ran a 10km race in the morning, went to Macritchie for the treetop walk with her and then cycled around Pasir Ris Park at night all in the same day. Dead. But I was soooo happy to have met her again after 4 years!! 4 looong years since I last met her.

Thaaat was us back in the day hehe with ma best friend Jan right there.

Not just her, my Myanmar friend Than Htike came over last month as well and I was again, tired ass but still a devoted Singaporean proud to show off her nation to her international friends!!

An afternoon off from work today. My dad's at home for two months cos of a knee surgery. Decided to look through some old photos to entertain ourselves.

Found some really beauuuutiful photos of my parents when they were dating (they must've been at my current age in these photos!!)

I really like this photo of them. I can tell they were really happy.. the sort that's young, pure and innocent

Lololol couple wear siol

I reaaaaally like this photo too. So candid! And I could feel their youth radiating off this picture, and I think I'd like to be friends with these two!

I also came to realise that my parents were once young and clueless too in the game of life. Who knew where love would take them to??

They got married....

... settled down, and had a kid - my bro

I remember my dad telling me how they were really poor then. That one trip they spent at Japan in those pictures? They savedddd like mad. Then when they first had my brother, the three of them lived in a small rented apartment. I was no witness to that, I had no clue. Neither of my parents had a diploma, let alone a bachelor's degree. Highest level of education = o levels. Don't think they knew what life ahead together would be.... But they slogged. They worked their way up. And I think also, my dad got lucky. He told me his original aspiration was to be a vegetable seller, but someone recommended him a job to be a computer guy. At first, he went pfftttt cos well, ignorant young fella didn't know what computers were. But they kept calling him back and he gave it a shot.

And the rest they say, is history.

By the time I came along, my family was pretty all right.

Moved to a decent house in Pasir Ris

And we were quite happy - went to China!

If anything.... I have a lot to thank my parents for. For almost everything that I have now.

My two good looking parents

I told myself, that from hereon, I'll be working my ass off at work for them. For my family. All that effort to put us through school and give us the best life my brother and I could have... I think it's the least I can do for them for now. They're my current motivation.

When my mom came home from work and I showed her some of the photos, she said, "so ugly hor?"

I said "where got!?"

Hello? She started #ootd She looked so good!

And I loveeeee what she's wearing here.

She smiled when I showed her this photo. Her wedding dress still hangs in one of our closets.

And I told her, "Mommy, I'll wear this dress when I get married someday"

That's how beautiful I think she is.