There are many reasons why I have a blog. People collect a lot of unusual things. My aunt loved collecting bells, she even has a 300 year old Swiss cow bell and knows the history of each of the bell in her possession and display her collection in every nook and corner of her house. I collect memories. I worry that in the event anything happens to my brain, then my memories will vanish.. I needed a place to store my memories. Writing a journal was the only other options, somehow after finding my mom and my sister going through my journal, I can never do it again.
I went through my life thinking that I was the “odd” one. When I joined the medical college, all my classmates had both their parents come to the college to visit them. My parents were already divorced. But I never told anyone that. Everyone has a ‘normal’ scale..where you evaluate what you have based on what others have and in my case I wasn’t normal because I was the only one whose parents were divorced. Everyone else had perfect families. Years later, I visited the parents of a classmate while I was attending a conference in their home country..The most unusual part of their family home was, her father never talks to her mother. Not a word. They had a falling out when the kids were younger, but chose to live together as strangers for the sake of the kids. But the 5 years I was with my classmate, she never mentioned that odd fact. She waxed lyrical about how wonderful her parents are and how much they loved her..
Today, I am part of the same deception. What my friends see is a very successful woman who dresses impeccably, lives in a posh residential area and drive a flashy car, who has friends among the who is who in the society. They see the smooth version of me. They haven’t got a clue as to the journey I went through to get all those rough corners smoothened.
I needed a place where the real me exists. This is where I can be who I am. I am not seeking any ultimate glory ,neither do I care for anyone’s opinion. For me it doesn’t really matter if anyone reads my blog or not. I need to write and for me that is the most important thing. Also, if you think like I did all those years ago that I was the odd one.. that you are all alone in this world, then I hope that perhaps reading my blog will make you understand that you are not alone and that you are strong even if you don’t think so yourself.
When I was in they 3 yr MBBS, I didn’t collect my marks card for about 6 months. ( I knew which subjects I won the gold medal from my professors, but I didn’t know my marks and I didn’t want to know either.) I didn’t collect because I noticed that for a lot of my classmates, especially the ones who are barely scrapping through, they were more interested in finding out my marks..it somehow made their life a lot better if I scored less than the one they were voting for. The fact that my marks reflect my intelligence and the amount of hard work I put in didn’t factor in at all. Then there was Geroge. Every gold medal I got was because of George. I don’t know why it is hard for people to give credit where credit is due. But it hurt a lot.
I work with gifted children here during my spare time. One of the things the children that I work with complain often is about getting the due recognition. Some time ago, the mother of one of the child that I work with came to me with tears in her eyes and recounted the reaction of the women in her temple group when they found that her daughter scored high distinction for ICAS english. “Of course it is easier for your daughter to excel in English, because she was born in England Nah.” they said. The child was born in England and did spend 2 years of her life in England before moving to Australia. The children of most her temple friends were born here in Australia. Anyone with an iota of intelligence can see the flaw in that argument. He daugher heard the comment and told her mother she will never write another ICAS test again. Children notice little things and eventually they will start to underachieve just to fit in. I have been there and I know how it feels. I was accused that I was holding on to the gifted tag. I do hold on to it because majority of the gifted children will drop out after high school, not because they aren’t intelligent, but because the schools spend all the time and energy to help a child who under achieves than the one who over achieves. Eventually most of the gifted children get disiilusioned and becomes failed gifted. I am one among the failed gifted and writing my experience as well as that of my children, I am hoping that another gifted child will not go through what I went through. And Yes, I will fight with all I have to ensure that my children don’t go through the same.
So, About comment moderation. I know my blog is in the public domain and I am liable for the reactions that are positive or negative. As a (former) Malaysian who always preached for freedom of expression in Malaysia, I felt I was betraying myself if I didn’t allow freedom of expression in my blog. ( One ought to practice what they preach)
I didn’t ask all my blog readers to follow UFAS “United friends and Associates of Sarah”. I do respect your right to your opinion.
However, there are things that bothers me a lot.
I have written over and over that I have eidetic memory. When you write a comment, wordpress captures your IP and I can remember your IP. It isn’t that I sit here and memorise every IP. All I need is to see the IP number and my brain sees the pattern and it stays forever. I noticed that when people want to berate me or take a jab a me, they morph to Divya Unni or Manju Warrier or Pratiksha etc. from their original handle. If you are not comfortable to be who you are, but still wants to take jab on me using various other ID’s, it bothers me. It makes me think that you have something to hide and I don’t wish to support that.
My children mean the world to me. Whatever they achieve in their life is because they have worked for it. Today my son owns his own company and he also works with a lot of leading scientists in the Robotics industry. He is hoping to patent his invention end of this year. Yaya will get a diploma in Spanish Language end of this year and will start going to Uni to continue with her degree in Spanish next year.. I don’t know anything about robotics, neither do I know Spanish. It is unfair to judge my children and assume that they are where they are because A, their mother in intelligent. B. their mother pushes them. I do push my children in some areas, I want them to clean their room, learn to cook, do the laundry, play a group sport, volunteer two hours a week etc. But beyond that I don’t push them in anything because I know the more my mother pushed me, the worst I became. I only did what made me happy, not anyone else. ( weird, I know) And I know my children will do exactly the same. So, I don’t push them. Never did, never will. If you can’t accept the simple thing that my children are intelligent and are good in what they do, then that is your issue. Freedom of expression starts with respecting your right to an opinion, but it stops when your opinion hurts the people who did nothing to you.
One commenter even took a jab on my children having to grow up without a father figure. I found that insulting. Why is it that some can’t accept that not everyone is as lucky as them and some of us do the best we can with whatever we have. I refuse to allow such comments to be published because there are plenty of sigle mothers out there doing a fantastic job and it is unfair to judge them because of the absence of a man in their life.
So, much as I hate to do this, I have resorted to comment moderation.