A Bone to Pick

A whole new world... alone

Before I knew it, it was 2016 and I graduated from secondary school. Amazing! I was finally going to junior college (JC), a new start. The best part was that I'd be going to a new school with old friends so I wouldn't have to face that awkward first day of school vibes. No sitting alone or trying to look for friends - I already had them with me on this 2 year journey. 

I was really excited to begin this new chapter in my life with my friends, since it presented a fresh set of opportunities to really revamp myself. I would be a better, more attractive version of myself. Over the holidays, my acne flare-ups got under control thanks to the medication, and I got a bit tanner. I felt slightly better about myself, but that didn't mean my self-esteem level changed. I was still shy and introverted, and still overly conscious others' perception of me. 

2017 was a New Year - it was time to up my game. I decided that I would join volleyball as an extracurricular activity, because I wanted to step out of my comfort zone and finally be more athletic. I needed to be fitter, be toned up. I changed my glasses to (what I felt) was a more flattering shape and colour. I changed myself to become "cooler" so that when the new friends I met in JC saw me, they'd want to be friends with me. When the boys looked at me, they wouldn't be repulsed by what they saw. 

I would be wanted.

JC began pretty well - I was in a class doing the subject combination I chose, and surrounded by friends both old and new who were fun and friendly. I got into volleyball despite having no experience, and I had amazing teachers who were passionate about the subjects they taught. The initial months flew by quickly and were filled with lots of happy memories and laughter. The mornings gathered around the lobby, talking and rushing last minute assignments before the morning bell; running for lunch before the queues got too long at the nearby hawker centre; trying to stay awake through afternoon classes. Those memories were good. 

But they weren't the only memories I had. 

Joining volleyball was a blessing and a curse. 

A blessing because I met some 3-4 great friends who I could share the pains of being an amateur and complaints with. These girls were so supportive and encouraging, they really were the only reason I could stand going for volleyball after school at all. Our coach was a real piece of shit, making his biases rather obvious towards the prettier girls who bothered to curry his favour. He was harsh and no nonsense, especially since the majority of the girls' team had no experience playing volleyball, and we were going to compete in the inter-JC competition. But despite all that, I forged solid friendships with some of the girls in the team, and we banded together to lift each other up. We'd make inside jokes about the coach and look out for one another, checking to make sure that all was ok.

A curse because that's where my dormant insecurities began to arise. Unbeknownst to me, most of the girls in the team already knew each other from their previous school, so friendships were established there already, making it difficult to break into their pre-formed cliques. And to make matters worse, I only found out later from my friends that volleyball was considered the "popular kids" activity. Which was not my status in JC for sure. Initially, it was still fine as we were all maintaining the "first-time-meeting-be-nice" facade, making small talk and chit chatting. However, as the days passed, I slowly began to realise that most of the girls weren't my kind of people. Those girls liked gossiping, bitching about others, makeup and all that - basically they weren't people I could relate to. So despite having my little group of volleyball friends with me, I still felt inadequate in their presence. Anytime I was called up to serve or spike, I felt their eyes watching me. Judging me. It was all in my head, of course, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that I was unworthy of being in that team. I wasn't popular like them. Hardly anyone knew me in school but the friends I made. Remember - introverted, average girl. I began dreading volleyball training, always coming in at the last moment, and my initial enthusiasm for the sport waned pretty quickly. I didn't slack during training, but neither did I really put in 100%. My anxiety in going for training got so bad I considered changing my extracurricular just so I could avoid seeing the popular girls. My self-esteem was really bad at that time. I hated training with a vengeance, often feeling mild panic at the thought of having to slog through those 2 hours, twice a week.

My confidence shattered further when JC assignments and tests began. I'm a really competitive person by nature,  almost to the point of being a perfectionist. I needed to be the best, and I needed to best as many people as I could. JC was tough - we were learning new knowledge that was more complex and in depth than before, with deadlines for assignments and tests packed back-to-back. I was struggling to stay afloat in my subjects, getting the occasional 80's but mostly hovering in the 60-70's. And this is despite my hardest efforts studying and memorising. I became really stressed out over my grades, especially when my friends all seemed to float by and ace their tests without a hitch. To me, they were doing way better than I was with minimal effort. And so this only spawned one thought in me - I was a failure.

I was a failure. 

I kept comparing myself to everyone else, needing to know what grades they got compared to mine. I needed to know my ranking relative to everyone else. I was miserable and kept punching myself for my bad grades. Whenever I received back a bad test, my mood would plummet and the thought spiral would begin. 

"You're a failure, you suck, can't even pass, you're a disgrace to the family, Mom and Papa would be so disappointed in you..."

I began to get unhappier and unhappier with myself, up to the point where I stopped enjoying my hobbies. The world was bleak - everyone was better than me, no matter how hard I tried. I was just a useless human being taking up space in this world. Can't even do well in school examinations, I'm just a burden to my family. 

A burden a burden a burden a burden...

I didn't tell any of this to my parents, but I guess they could sense that something had shifted in me. I wasn't the happy self I used to be. Whenever I brought back my report cards for my parents to sign, I always imagined the disappointment in their eyes as they viewed my dismal results. To me, they were perpetually disappointed in me. I was a failure of a daughter, and if they could, they would've gotten another daughter who was more holistically well-rounded. My parents had many friends with geniuses for children in the top schools, excelling in their studies and pursuing the careers everyone wants (medicine, lawyer etc). And here I was, flopping through JC exams - can you imagine what my A level results would look like? 

And it was this that perpetuated my thoughts constantly - that I was an unwanted daughter, and I did not deserve their love. 

I did not deserve their love. 

At this point, you probably have established how irrational my brain is functioning right now. And I will tell you, in retrospect, that duh. Obviously I know it's a crazy thought to have. But at that period in my life, it didn't seem so unreasonable.

I decided to voice my worries over my awful grades to my parents, and my father proposed a solution which I had never considered before - boarding school. Boarding school in the UK, to be specific. That meant that I would take my A levels in the UK instead of Singapore, living my life abroad for 2 years. It was a tough choice to make. I didn't have a lot of options to choose from, since the UK term began in September, and their applications had mostly closed by then. However, the famous Concord and another less well-known boarding school (we shall call it W), was still open for applicants. With my secondary school grades, the boarding school rep was confident of my acceptance in W, but not Concord since they had a long waiting list. By then, it was already June, and we didn't have a lot of time left to decide. 

My parents and I had lengthy discussions on the pros and cons of staying versus leaving, really weighing all the options and looking at the situation in as many aspects as possible. Ultimately, the discussion ended with the final decision to apply for W and hope for the best. My parents were wonderfully supportive of my decision to try and we just waited with fingers crossed. They always believed in me wholeheartedly, and wanted to at least provide me with a choice to choose. Doors of opportunity for me to open and step through. 

Within a few weeks, I was notified of my acceptance (my parents were overjoyed), but I was still hesitant. To go or not to go, that was the question. After a final deliberation and talk with the W's principal who happened to be giving a promotional talk in Singapore, it was settled. 

I was going to boarding school.