Home.

On Graduation Day while waiting for the ceremony to start I had the chance to briefly catch up with the other archies, whom I haven't seen since the summer. A friend asked if I had been in Brighton all this while ("yep"), and when was the last time I went home ("two and a half years ago"). Astounded, he started joking about how they should all set up a Facebook sponsorship page to get me on a plane home.

I related this joke to the housemate, to which she replied "I don't think it's the funding that's the problem. I think it's the matter of getting you to board that plane!". 

I laughed.

I've gotten many questions about when I'm planning to go home. To most of them, I reply "sometime this year", because that is the ideal plan. To others, I give them the vague answer of "I don't know yet", because well I really don't! unexpected detours and diversions come up sometimes, making the plan not so straight forward after all. I've also gotten a few "Why not just go home? It will be easier to find a job there."

Boy, people must think I have something against my own country now.

One of the reasons why I decided to stick around is due to the fact that this might be the only opportunity for me to get experience working in the UK. Let's face it, work visas are not getting any easier to obtain here, and after finishing my Part 2, I'm more than likely going to be working in Malaysia for the rest of my life.... OK that last statement may be a lie considering the world is a playground for architects to play Godzilla in, and it all depends on how adventurous I will actually get with age (not very, I'm suspecting, since I will want some form of stability after I'm 90 years old when I can finally sign off my own drawings). And hey, since I'm already here, might as well make the best of it.

Seeing that I'm in my 20s where I should be living like there's no tomorrow, 

I really don't mind doing the craziness of a daily commute to London or anywhere around the coast.

If working permits and immigration ladidahs weren't such a big issue right now, I would have happily applied to work anywhere in Europe even if it meant having to learn another language.

Another reason why no one can seem to heave me back home is the fact that I associate my home away from home with personal freedom and independence. I had a sheltered upbringing, where I was often over-protected from many things. And my mother, I love her to bits and she will kill me for this, but she tends to exaggerate situations a little too much. There are two types of people, right? One that see the glass half full and the other that sees it half empty. Well, my mother is the person who sees the glass spilling on the tiled floor right before someone comes running, slipping and breaking their neck. When I tell her off for being crazy, she sees the glass half full. 

Growing up, I was refrained from cooking (house might catch on fire..and not in a joking way!), going out with a group of friends to the mall (might get kidnapped), participating in high jump (might break my back), sports (might get skinnier), going on island trips (might come back dark, burnt, or might drown if I go into the water.), walking to the shops (kidnapped, dark, run over by car, skinnier) and working (what for?).. Yes they are little worriers, my parents. I will have to fix that when I get home. Now I am able to look back and understand that they were just being protective considering the world can be an ugly place. As a teen though..well that was a different story. I do, however, wish that I was given a little more room to grow, because now I realise what lasting impact your childhood has on your adulthood, and going into adulthood with so much fear and worst-case-scenarios instilled in you is never good..

(This is why you should never threaten your children with fear. They turn out generally scared of life and I'm living proof. But it's ok, I'm working on it.)

Anyway, going abroad was a chance for me to 'rebel'..And sorry to bore you but this isn't heading to the rebellion of sex,drugs and alcohol. (I'm the most boring person on the planet, what did you expect?) It was more of a rebellion for control. All of my teen years all I craved for was full independence and control over my life and Brighton gave it to me. There is a certain triumph knowing that I am in control and responsible for every detail of my life: whether it is scrubbing the toilet, having dinner at 10pm, randomly booking a flight to anywhere, working or going to the beach and coming back burnt. I am aware, though, that there are consequences to this freedom: that when I finally go back home for 'good', it is going to be hard for me to adjust back to the life of boundaries. Or maybe that's just what I think.

Perhaps it could be different-- after all people see you in a different light when you start a career. 

CAREER= You've done something right with your life so you can do whatever the hell you want now.

Or maybe...

 I'm still going to be that little girl in the house.

who knows?

I know, though, that I have grown out of that excessively bubble wrapped child. 

Rebellion gave me my own principles, my stand in life, and opinions.

And that's why I'm so attached
 to my home away from home.