Pre-35 musings in Singapore
Coming back to Singapore always prompts an outpouring of musings and reflections, especially as they relate to my parents. It’s a privilege to not be saddled with too many burdens, stressors, and tensions, and at this point in my life – a few weeks before I turn 35 – it’s two related things which remain “unbridged”: first, my personal and professional lives between Singapore and the US; and second, between my parents and husband.
I feel these things more acutely when I’m in Singapore (and they barely feature or register when I’m in the US). I placed “unbridged” in quotation marks because I intended for it as a description, rather than a call to action (i.e., I don’t feel an active responsibility to do any of the bridging, especially between my parents and husband).
In the past two weeks or so, besides my ill-timed caffeine consumption, there were two occasions when I had difficulty falling asleep. I documented the first occasion (with some additional details, from my text to Martin):
Remembering friends and acquaintances who died young, including and perhaps particularly those by suicide. I remembered someone I met in JC who died in college. Another who organised a large-scale event in 2008, who passed some years later. Someone else who had a rare disorder. I even started looking at their Facebook profiles and online remembrances, reflecting on how each of them were so fondly remembered, even if it can feel transient (e.g., the volume of online posts go down over time, I wonder how frequently their names come up in conversations these days, I think about their parents and family who live among us).
Mortality in general, and what happens after death. I remember having these thoughts since I was young (they’ve not increased in frequency, and I’m just thinking about these thoughts more intentionally). Given my agnosticism or irreligiosity, I never have had definitive answers. Barring unfortunate accidents or tragedies or bad strokes of luck, my realisation for myself – and increasingly for Martin and my parents – is that life is short, but it’s also not that short (i.e., it’s long enough, and we’re privileged enough, to make the best of what’s ahead of us in the years and decades to come).
My parents, who are ageing but still very much OK, but how I should maybe spend more time with them. However, what does that look like, exactly, beyond what I’ve already been doing? More on this in the second part.
And finally, I thought about grandma’s death and how long it’s been (almost six years!) I recall musing, following her passing, that I was sad and devastated but that I had no regrets. I still think that’s largely accurate and not just me assuaging myself, and I feel the same about my parents. In that, I really hope they have a good decade or two ahead of them, and that I would be around for the important times.
Martin accurately added that, “In the next 15-25 years, we will be seeing our aunts, uncles, and parents pass one after another.” He added that life can fly by when it’s busy, unexpected things can happen, and life can feel short.
Because of those “unbridged” dynamics, it sometimes feels like I’m “sacrificing” one for the other, even though that sentiment is not necessarily accurate. Since 2022, when Martin first visited Singapore (with a less-than-ideal arrangement which pleased no one), I’d like to think that I’ve found a good balance. With my parents, for instance, on this trip:
I’ve spent most weeknights and all the weekends with them (for the past four weeks). Besides work –on which I also need to focus – I’ve deliberately not met friends. I mean, I’m also tired from work, but it’s been a lot of, in my opinion, quality time with my parents.
We’ve been on short trips together, trips that I may have turned down in the past so that I could “clear work,” to Batam and JB, and I was fully present for those trips.
Across three days of the Lunar/Chinese New Year (including the eve), we went visiting, had lunches and dinners, went to the temples, did what was requested of me, and offered good company wherever we went.
I also wanted to make sure, as my parents hosted folks, I prepped and cooked over the weekend for two days, making sure we were good hosts and that I had everything ready.
There are some things I’d like to do more of, for sure, which I can start committing to more intentionally (given that I hope to be with TMT for at least three more years, at the end of which I’ll be up for tenure, with a yearlong sabbatical – or leave of absence, if needed – as an option). After I get the green card, I’d want to: (a) travel with my parents at least one a year or once every two years, in a foreign country; (b) be in Singapore at least twice a year, which is what I’m already doing; and (c) prepare a homecooked meal for the extended family at least once every time I am back. When I’m in the US, we already have a weekly video call together, and I want to take that more seriously from here on out (not that I didn’t, but I want to give them my full attention, talking about more substantive matters).
I didn’t do all these for my parents. I genuinely enjoy their company and the time we spend together, so by no means were all these “obligations” in any form. Still, with Martin headed over, I don’t know where their headspace is at vis-à-vis him (and I choose not to engage because I don’t want to bear the burden or responsibility of the “bridging” or explaining, until my parents express interest about him), and I feel comfortable enough that we’ll eventually holiday in Japan and that I’ll spend most of my remaining time in Singapore – till the second week of April – with him, while spending some days at home and going out for lunches and dinners.
The second occasion I had difficulty falling asleep was last night, thinking again about two related things. I thought about all the extended family members who weren’t present (mainly on the maternal side) and those who were, to put in crudely, good-for-nothings (mainly on the paternal side) as well as, “What is the version of me had I stayed in Singapore? Or returned to Singapore in 2020 or even 2023?”
It’s apparent to me, I’m not sure to what extent to my parents (especially my mom), that the typical Singaporean script – finding a partner, getting married, buying a house, having children – doesn’t quite work as intended. And maybe at some point my parents will recognise that, maybe me being gay isn’t that big a deal (again, I pen this with no expectations, knowing that the ball is in their court, not mine). Sure, a relative or two may have their opinions, but I am doing pretty OK? More than OK?
Strip away all the familial and personal expectations. I am very happy and successful with my two jobs in the US and Singapore. I don’t brag about being an assistant professor or respectable researcher-consultant, even if I command a comfortable salary and do work which is rigorous, meaningful, and well-regarded. I don’t even show off in front of my friends, family, and relatives! I just… Exist. And do my things. I try to stay fit and healthy and have my life in order (and this sabbatical has been even more rejuvenating). Over this festive period, all my relatives and extended family members see is someone who is comfortable in the kitchen, confident in his disposition, articulate in this thoughts and knowledge of the world (in English and Chinese), and who is the pride of his parents. Why should my sexuality – and husband, who is truly my better half in so many ways – be an impediment?
(I know the answer, with regard to the antiquated stereotypes and perceptions and rejection of homosexuality in Singapore, which only intensifies the frustration.)
On the maternal side, my mom told me about a cousin who, in her decade of marriage, tried to have a baby. She finally conceived two years ago, quit her job, and is now going through divorce proceedings. Another aunt and her daughter are having a falling out because the former has money problems, cannot hold down a job, and thinks that the allowance from her children is inadequate. OK. On the paternal side, so many of my cousins cannot even be bothered to do proper greetings or acknowledge the presence of their elders. I know this because their reticence and disrespect irks my parents! Then, I learn about many of them not holding down jobs (I am!), dabbling into schemes involving lost sums of monies and wasted investments (I am not!), not finding partners and not being in happy relationships or marriages (unlike me!), and – overall – leading lives which are somewhat vapid and purposeless and counter to how I conduct myself.
And so, why do I allow myself to be plagued with ostensible guilt? I am not guilty or failing. I am doing what I’m supposed to, and more. Therefore, when I think about “What is the version of me had I stayed in Singapore? Or returned to Singapore in 2020 or even 2023?”, my answer is much more unequivocal. It’s not going to be as good!
The difference is not in the professional. Either in the US or Singapore, I’ve been shaped by the Singapore system to adapt, do my best, and ultimately thrive. Sure, the levels of stress and expectations may vary, but empirically I’ve proven that, even while holding down both jobs at the same time, I’ve been able to do a good job without compromising on the quality of my production.
The difference is in the personal. I’m going to put Martin aside, not because he’s not important (in fact, he’s the principal reason why I’m in the US and why I’ve flourished personally), but because the main difference would the interactions and relationships I have with my parents. In Singapore, had I returned on a more permanent basis, I would still be showered with their love and affection, and I would maybe play a bigger role in their caregiving. Nevertheless (discounting all the considerations about my sexuality):
Would I be as independent (e.g., with chores, cooking, and taking care of myself)? I don’t think so, given how much I’d be reliant upon them.
Would I be closer to them, emotionally? Yes, because we’d spend more physical time together, given that it’s unlikely I would’ve moved out of home. But would it be more quality time? Would I be more likely to take them for granted? Would I spend more time outside with friends and at work?
Would they change their minds more quickly or progressively about my future life? I doubt so. The constraint is not with me or with the amount of time I spend with them. It’s their concern about how they are perceived by those around them, which gives them pause, and that is a concern I cannot shift, and that I don’t want to shift.
Would it assuage my “guilt” about them ageing and getting older, and me needing to spend more time with them? No, because they would be ageing no matter what. I would be at work, they would be working (before their retirement), and the routine of occasional meals and gatherings and get-togethers would be the same.
I want to see how the next seven to eight weeks ago. I sense their apprehension, despite me spending so much time with them already, that I would still be in Singapore (but with Martin). Yet the clarity I have now is that: (a) I am living my best life, a life I am proud of, and a life they too are proud of; (b) I am doing my very best with them, not only because of ostensible obligations, but because I love them and genuinely enjoy their company; (c) I am going to spend more time with them in the weeks ahead; (d) I spent a fantastic Lunar/Chinese New Year together (including those trips, get-togethers, and dinners); and (e) I hope to spend my 35th birthday with them.
I am more than enough, and I am proud to be so.
