In Pieces

I’m holding on to strands, I realized.

It’s like déjà vu, but this time it’s worse.

I was stupid. I should have realized that them reconciling and living happily ever after is almost too good to be true. They don’t love each other anymore. At least, that’s what she tells me.

What can I do? I am but a mere observer. In the end all I can do is watch. It’s their lives. It’s their happiness. They deserve to decide what is best for themselves. Even if it means tearing my heart to pieces.

I should be more prepared. I faced this last year, yet I still can’t compose myself to look at her straight in the eye and tell her, “your happiness is what matters”. I’m so selfish I disgust myself.

I don’t even dare to start imagining what the future would be like. That part messed me up the most last year. It was a dark place in my mind I wish to never set foot into ever again. I’ll just embrace it, whatever it is.

I can’t blame her. I might do the same if I am in her shoes. Alas, I’m also not kind enough to smile and pretend to be happy for her. I can’t. My instinct tells me to run. Last year, I had the comfort of being in a boarding school. I ran, silently. I made up excuses not to go home, just because I can’t bear to sit in the same house where people are silently planning to leave each other. Where people act so normal it’s too ironic to actually know the truth behind those plastic surfaces.

Now, where do I run? Take me away from this misery, my heart and tear ducts can’t take it. I understand everything, yet I understand nothing. I am confused, sad, angry and frustrated. I don’t know who to talk to about this. I hope you guys, my silent readers can at least offer some prayer for my heart to be calm and receiving. Right now, I don’t need consolation. I just need courage, to face the new world head on. I need strength, to look at the memories and realize it will never be the same. I just need a hug. I don’t know how to deal with this.

I’m lost and we are back to square one.

I need to run.


Sadness vs Joy

Note the Inside Out reference in the title, I’m in love with that movie.

The past few weeks have been harsh on me. Please note that I am currently on my period, so this post might get a little bit emotional. I warned you.

3/3/2016. What a glorious, marvellous day that was. Indeed, that was one of the best days of my life. Smiles all around, warm fuzzy feelings and bright sparkly eyes looking forward to the future.

The week after. A week full of scholarship applications, photocopying certificates, finalising my resume.

18/3/2016. Kijang Academy at Lanai Kijang. It was a pleasant surprise to be nominated for Kijang Emas. Only 21 people out of 700 9A+ achievers around Malaysia, and shortlisted to the top 9. I was supposed to write a full post about this but at this point, I could not bring myself to. I’m sorry.

The week after. Spent waiting for a call from Bank Negara. I did not want to expect anything, but how could I not? There was a 50% chance at that time, and needless to say I clung on to the 50% chance to get a positive outcome. Blame me all you want, for having an unrealistic hope, but if you were in my shoes, you would too. You would, if the panel gave positive comments on your performance. You would, if the panel said “good luck with the elephants” as a response to your dream to pursue wildlife veterinary. You would, if the panel said, “you nailed this, you have high aptitude, and a good attitude as well”. You would, unless you are smarter than me and knew not to put your hopes up too high.

I went for a MARA interview at KMB under medicine. Needless to say, that planted more fantasies and dreams in my parents head. My dad was already imagining things like me flying over to the UK like my brother and sister did to study medicine. Little does he know I have no intention to study medicine anymore. I’m sorry mum and dad for wasting your time and making you put high hopes on me.

In silence, I was quietly hoping for that call from Bank Negara. The promise of the words ‘end of March’ I held on to, keeping my phone fully charged, refreshing my emails every few hours and having mini-heart attacks whenever an unknown number calls.

Well, the news dropped like a bomb. On 30th March, I found out that the Kijang Emas recipients have already got their phone calls a few days ago..while I was busy keeping my hopes up. On 31st March, I saw their picture with Malaysia’s governor, and all I could think about was how good would it be if that was me. I shed a few tears that day, I kept everyone’s hopes up only to disappoint them. I was the only candidate from SSP and still I could not make them proud. I did not tell my parents, but they found out by themselves when they saw the picture of Zeti Aziz and the 3 scholars in the newspaper. The least they could do was send me a rejection email, but they didn’t, as if I do not even deserve that last bit of dignity.

Things just went downhill from there. I did not even receive a response email for my application to Maybank, yet to receive an email from Yayasan Peneraju, Program Penajaan Nasional and tonight, I was eliminated from the Khazanah assessments because of a freaking personality test.

At this point, I’m just slowly letting go of whatever hopes I have remaining. I accept all these with an open heart. Alhamdulillah, for making better plans for your servant who has little to no knowledge on what is best for her.

Just allow me to be sad. I have been rejected numerous times. I remember when I was in standard 2, when I failed an interview to become a school prefect, when all my other friends succeeded. It was my first interview, and I failed. Luckily I learned from my mistakes and passed the following year, and ended up as Assistant Head Girl. I remember when I was eliminated from being a prefect when I was in Form 4. I cried my eyeballs out until my face was so bloated and puffy, but I ended up being one anyway, when I got to be a prefect without having to make posters, gain votes and giving speeches. I even became one of the top 10, which was a candidate for being a top 5. I remember getting my first ever C in add math, because the exam was held in between two major debate competitions which I lost, and I felt like major shit at that particular moment.

I failed. Numerous times. 10 debate competitions and not once did I make it to number 1. Not once did I make it to the top 10 best speakers. I count my failures, I list them, compile them and tuck them in somewhere behind my brain. That way, I can cherish them when I am successful, and I can reflect when I fail again. I succeeded just a little over a month ago, now I feel like I am a failure again. It’s okay, that’s why we are called humans. Life is like our own personal roller coaster, it’s up to us to decide whether to enjoy it or detach ourselves from riding it and blame the engineers who made so many loops and dips in the tracks.

Perhaps I would not feel so upset if nobody else was rooting for me. My parents imagined a lot of good things after my excellent results. My teachers were confident I would fly overseas, quoting one of them who said, “Maryam ni tahun depan dah takde kat Malaysia dah”. My friends rooted and prayed for me whenever I requested them to. It sucks to be disappointed, and it sucks even more to be a disappointment.

I may feel like I’m at rock pit bottom right now. I might feel useless and helpless now . I might feel lonely and detached now, but I will spring up. I will rise again. I promise. InsyaAllah. If God wills, anything can happen.







So… this happened.





I can’t believe it has already been 6 days since this happened. Please excuse my procrastination habits, but here’s my update on what happened last week.

For those who are not living in Malaysia, you might not know what SPM is. To summarise, SPM is a national exam that is sat by Form 5 students nationwide that is said to determine one’s future. For Malaysians, SPM is like the highlight of the senior year as it happens right at the end of the year. Needless to say, our Asian parents go to extreme lengths to ensure that we get outstanding results.

We had to wait 3 months for the actual results to be announced, which was on the 3rd March 2016. After long weeks of boring and idle days, the date has finally arrived.

A day before the results were announced, I was a nervous wreck. Those who are following me on Instagram and Snapchat would have witnessed my anxiety outbreak and excessive selfies due to nervousness. To be honest, the moment I completed answering my Biology paper (which was the last paper) I have already left everything in the hands of God. The questions were definitely challenging, especially with the High Order Thinking Skills (HOTS or KBAT in Malay) questions which wrecked my brain.

I kept telling myself that I would accept and be grateful for whatever result I will get but on the day before, you just can’t help but imagine the worst-case scenarios. About a week before result day, my dad had a dream and he told me I was going to get something REALLY good which scared me even more because now everyone has their hopes up and what if I messed up and disappointed everyone. I can handle self-disappointment but I really cannot face with the disappointments of other people. In short, I was a bundle of nerves, so I tried calming myself down by listening to recitations of Al-Quran (which was very hypocritical of me but it was the only thing that worked). Honestly, when things get rough the only person I truly believe I can turn to is nobody else but Allah. Every single time. So I did, lost in my nervousness I started to think of all my sins and how undeserving of me to get excellent results. Fortunately, by night time I was already too worn out to be even more nervous.

The morning of results day, I woke up feeling positive and calm. I keep telling everyone “aku redha je weh, apa apa yang aku dapat pun”. So I walked with Jun to school (which was just across the road) at about 8.30 am. Poor Jun, she was visibly more nervous than me. We went to the Surau and recited Yassin together, it was lovely to meet everyone after 3 months. Then, we headed to the hall. The day before, there were so many rumours about the TV3 coming and etc and it was true. There were reporters and photographers outside the hall, which did NOT help calm our nerves at all. In the hall, some of my friends have already checked their results through SMS and were celebrating among themselves, which made me feel like there are grasshoppers jumping around in my stomach.


*wow this post took me a long time to finish :’)*

So, we were all waiting for the ceremony to start, when a junior called me and said that Ibu wanted to meet me at the back of the hall. When I came to meet her, there was Ms.Zai, Ibu, Cikgu Halimatus and a reporter from TV3. They told me that I was going to get interviewed and I was soo confused as I have not even gotten my results yet. Then, Ms.Zai sent me out to call Zati and Diba as well, which sort of raised my hopes up as we were told earlier that only 5 people got 9A+ (which just made me even more convinced that I was not going to get it).

Izzatul was interviewed as well, so I just decided to go ahead and ask Cikgu Halimatus if I got 9A+ and when she said yes, I was just, speechless. I did not know how to feel, it all happened so fast. So when I got interviewed by TV3, they told me to pretend I already got my results and to “look happy” (lol) and asked me a few questions about my plans for the future and etc. To be honest, I really hate when people ask me my plans for the future. I don’t know, I just feel like it’s a very personal thing and it was the last thing that I would want to announce to the whole country -_- , but I had to because, OMG TV3 KOTT lol.

After finishing the interview, I went back to my seat where Amani asked me what was it about ( we were looking at the photos from her Europe tour when Ibu called me) and I just shrugged. Then, the ceremony has started where the straight As’ achievers will be announced and presented their result slip on stage. My name was the second last to be announced for the 9A+ category and although I already knew my results, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed as my mum was looking at me with a shocked plus surprised plus proud expression and I could not help tearing up when she hugged me before we went onstage.

There were seriously so many reporters at the hall and I felt that they took forever to take our pictures. It was kind of awkward as well as our batchmates were still sitting down there waiting for their results to be announced. As soon as we got off the stage, we were practically stripped away from our parents and dragged to the side of the hall for more interviews and photos. It took forever, and we had to pose in so many angles (only for one small picture to come out in the newspaper *rolls eyes*). By the time we have finished our “photoshoot session” they have already finished announcing the straight As’ achievers, which made me quite sad as I didn’t get the chance to clap and cheer along for my friends. 😦  I was so sweaty and dizzy by then and my smile was already looking visibly forced for the group photo session,haha.

My mum got her few seconds of fame as well, when she was interviewed by the TV3 afterwards- which she totally deserved after raising me up for 18 years. When it all ended, I met the teachers at the Staff Room to thank them and headed straight home. I prayed Zuhur prayer, replied to some people on Whatsapp and Twitter and slept for 3 hours straight. I guess that was the aftermath of baking Cinnamon Rolls until 3am the night before, and being nervous and jittery was exhausting as well, no lie.

We didn’t throw a bombastic party to celebrate, my mum just bought some satay for all of us to eat together, and it felt nice and warm to know that all my family members are proud of me 🙂

One thing that surely stunned me was when my father kissed me on the forehead, which he NEVER did before okay. My father is a man who rarely shows his affection- I don’t even remember when was the last time he hugged me- so when he did that I know that I have truly made him proud and nothing can describe how happy I was.

A lot of people asked for my tips on how I managed to get 9A+. My answer is, I honestly do not know. I believe that a lot of my friends deserved this too, they worked really hard and they were very disciplined and focused, way, way more than me.  If I were to give you some advice, it would be to get to know yourself. Understand which style of learning suits you best, because not everyone can study the way I did. I opted for the more relaxed way of studying, where I would focus on a subject for about an hour or two and then indulge myself by watching Youtube videos or playing games before continuing with the next subject.

One more thing would be to please, please do not study last minute for SPM. You should start focusing when you are learning the Form 4 syllabus, and I do not mean you just have to spend all year studying, never. I myself was frequently going out of school for competitions, events and more during Form 4 and Form 5. The most important thing is to understand each lesson and identify the topics that you are weak in. You should have stable grades by the beginning of Form 5 and constantly consult the teachers for questions that you and your friends have never encountered before, especially with the KBAT questions, it really takes your effort to either read a lot or ask the teachers a lot.

It is also very important to strengthen your bond with Allah. Honestly, my form 5 year was the year that I felt really close to Allah. I was able to wake up for Qiamullail, read the Quran after Maghrib prayers, become the Imamah for Isyak prayers, become the Naqibah for my usrah and refresh my Hafazan especially during Ramadhan. Last year, I had the best Ramadhan ever. I wish to have a better one this year. I am not boasting in any way, and if you think that being close to Allah for the sake of SPM is hypocritical, change your mindset. To me, it is SPM and everything that happened in 2015 (family problems, etc) that brought me back to Him and I am forever grateful for that. Take the opportunity when your heart feels sad and you feel worthless, that is the best time for you to talk to Allah about all your problems, and cry as much as you want on the prayer mat, because that was what I did and believe me, it made me feel so much better and so peaceful I could not even begin to describe it.

Many people have been asking me, “so what did you ask your parents for the SPM present, since you got excellent grades?”- and all I could reply was- nothing. How could I possibly demand a present when they were the reason I achieved this success in the first place? How could I bear to ask for a gift when this success alone was not enough to repay everything that they have done for me? I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. If they want to give me a present, that’s fine- but to ask for one? It would just make me feel bad.

Also, a lot of people have been saying that “lucky you, it must be easy for you to get scholarships now”,”confirm lah ni pergi overseas”. Not at all my dears. Getting 9A+ did not make me feel secure AT ALL. There are thousands of excellent and intelligent students out there that I have to compete against and it is not easy to do so. I will have to step up my game, as my grades promise nothing other than wider opportunites but there is nothing to be over confident about, and there is a long way to go. Nevertheless, I will do my best and see where my future takes me.

Veterinary Medicine is not something that people look highly upon in Malaysia, and I will be having a hard time explaining to the scholarship board why they need to sponsor a veterinary student, but I love challenges, and I am willing to take the risk, rather than to choose a safe route but end up studying something that I have absolutely no interest in. Some teachers and friends have questioned me on why I would want to choose a course that is not common in Malaysia, but I don’t see the problem. In fact, it is even better as I would be able to acquire a job with less competition in Malaysia. If I fail to get scholarships, it will be fine, there is always another way and I have absolutely no problem with studying locally. When you think that you have exhausted all possibilites, remember this; you haven’t.

The first step to success is understanding and believing in yourself. There is a long way to

go before I become that successful person I dream to be- but I will enjoy myself along the journey till I die, and live with no regrets.

Lastly, just be grateful with everything you are given, and say Alhamdulillah always, as He is the greatest planner.

look how excited my mum was :’)

ps// I always wanted to be it the news and the newspaper!! Dream come true indeed!!

pss// I never could have done this without Arista, love you guys ❤

My 18th Birthday

Dang it.

I have been procrastinating again. My birthday was like a week ago and I just could not bring myself to type about it even though I have always reminded myself somewhere in the back of my mind to update this blog. I swear, if this goes on this blog will end up deserted just like my previous blogs.

However, I will try to resuscitate this dying blog with my musings on everyday life as frequently as possible to fulfill my dreams of documenting my life events, however impossible that might sound. So here we go.

My 18th birthday was amazing. Well, compared to my previous birthdays. To be honest, I never thought of birthdays as anything important or worth remembering. Sure, it was the anniversary of our first day on planet Earth but what else? I have always wondered why would people go out of their way to throw a grand party and receive tons of presents on their birthday. What did we actually do to deserve it? I know for one thing all I did for the past 18 years was lived. Survived. Moved forward from anything that has happened in the past and embraced the unknown future with a stone face and mixed emotions.

Maybe that was why I had trouble remembering other people’s birthdays. Well actually I had trouble remembering a few other important dates as well, but that’s another story.

Sure I was excited as a little kid to get warm wishes and presents but as I grew up I just felt, meh. My birthdays were never special anyways. In fact, my birthdays were some of the days that I would feel really lonely and hopeless as I tend to compare how others celebrate their birthdays and how my “special” day pales in comparison to theirs.

I used to get jealous when other people would get surprises, parties thrown and receive awesome gifts from both parents and friends. I got annoyed to the point that I told myself, that I wouldn’t want it anyways, and somehow I managed to convince myself not to expect anything extra special on that day.

This year, after a bit of thinking I concluded that birthdays are not supposed to be about us. All we did was live, and living is not exactly a difficult task to do you know? I traced back the years that has flown by and realized that I have so many things to be thankful of.

First of, my mother. 18 years ago, on this exact same date, my mother has battled with life and death to bring me to this world. She carried me with her everywhere she went for 9 months and kept on doing so for God knows how long until I found my own feet. Truly, that is something worth remembering and should be appreciated for as long as she lives. Not to mention the tantrums she had to go through when I was a whiny little toddler, the headaches she had to endure to answer my bizarre questions when I was in kindergarten, the years she spent going back and forth to school to pick me up, and the patience she had in facing a hormonal teenager who would not even move a limb to help around at home with excuses of being “too tired” of her activities at boarding school. Yep, my mother definitely deserves an award for actually putting up with me for 18 whole years, longer that anyone in my life.Honestly, I am quite relieved as I will be less dependent on her now that I am starting to turn into an adult, I hope she gets the rest she well deserves.

My family. I would not describe myself as a family person, but I truly cherish all the times that we spent together. When I first entered boarding school, my  family was the one thing that I always thought I had lost due to not seeing them for a long while. This year however, I realized that no matter how far, or how long we are apart from each other, when we get together we are still a family and nothing can ever change that. My father, my brothers, nephews, and niece are all that I could not bear to lose. Even though I rarely get to see their faces, knowing they are healthy and happy is more than enough for me. Moreover, my brother is flying abroad to japan this year, thus, there will be less people to go home to. 😦

My friends. They truly know how to make one feel special on their birthday. I received warm wishes from many, prayers for a sweet life, and thoughtful gifts and birthday cards from them. I even got a surprise visit on my birthday (which failed miserably because I was not home! :p) Honestly, I felt really guilty as I almost never buy presents for my friends as there are too many of them and if I were to buy them all gifts, I am too broke and if I was to buy one of them a gift the others would be jealous, and so I ended up buying none in the end. I have always been a paranoid person. I always worry that my friends do not actually like to be friends with me, and they are just nice to me cause I look pathetic or something? This is when birthdays become a real eye opener. When I see friends who genuinely care and bought me presents and whatnot, I feel really warm and for once, I actually believed that I am not alone to face this challenging world. It is truly a great feeling.

Lastly, my favourite thing about this year’s birthday was that,  I experienced a lot of new things. On my birthday, I went ice skating for the second time in my life. I got so many bruises and cuts all over my knee and legs for falling down numerous times, but I felt very accomplished and proud of myself for not giving up until I am finally able to skate properly. The next day, I went to play at the amusement park with my batchmates which was an amazing memory as well, not to mention having to take the bus, and the train for almost 2 hours to reach home. Chalengging, but I definitely learnt something useful. The consequent day, me and my friends went to volunteer at the national Zoo., which was an eye-opening and valuable experience as well. All in all, this year’s 3 -day-birthday-celebration definitely gave me a lifetime worth of memories.

To sum it all up, I was really happy this week, not because it waas my birthday. I was just content to be able to spend my special day with people I love and cherish.Now I truly believe that birthdays are the time to be grateful, thankful and appreiate every single person that has been, still in, and will be in my life until forever as each and every one of them shaped me to be who I am today.

Attached below are some short videos of our outings 🙂


Who cares?

It’s funny.

I shape myself up to be this happy, optimistic, positive bundle of joy.

When I’m not.

I’m a hypocrite.

Maybe that’s why no one would care.

Maybe that’s why no one would bother talking to me every day.

Maybe that’s why I don’t truly have friends who cherish both my good and bad sides.

Maybe that’s why-

even I can’t bear to like myself.

I’m so fake, I laugh at my own desperation for attention. The long desperation that was never truly fulfilled.

To have someone understand me without having to say a thing.

To have someone’s arms hold me while I let my tears flow and my body shake out the sadness.

To have a sincere person, on whom I can trust, I can rely on, and I can bother at 3am when I couldn’t sleep but still be rest assured that the person would not mind.

To have someone pay attention to what I’m saying, no matter how petty and pathetic I sound.

Because when my insomnia kicks in and I am alone in this dark room, these thoughts just never seem to tire out and there is no one to hear it, except for myself.

My happy, positive self who always shows her good side to people until her real crippled self becomes an insecurity- and was shunt away at the farthest box at the back of her head, along with other insecurities.

Of never being good enough.

Of never going to be past average.

Of never having an attractive body.

Of never being able to love, and be loved.

Of never going to be “normal” enough.

These dark ghosts that I can easily walk past through during the day, but can never escape in the confinement of my room, at 3 am.

Every time this happens, the same old question pops into my head, although I already knew the answer-

If I died tonight, who cares?

A Massage for My Mother


I remember back then when I was still a child, my mum and dad used to pay me to give them a massage. Two pairs of legs, for RM 1 and an extra RM 1 for me to climb on my dad’s back and give him a back massage using my little feet. I used to anticipate the weekend nights as I would receive my income, which I will put straight in my piggy bank.

Time has passed and a lot has changed. When I entered a boarding school, I barely spend the weekend nights with my family, not to mention being a teenager, hanging out with my parents on a weekend night was not exactly on the top of my to-do list. The last time I gave my parents a massage was probably 6 to 7 years ago, during my pre-teens and I just lost the purpose to do it anymore since I got my monthly income anyway.

My mother is turning 55 this year, and she has been experiencing pains all over her body. It struck me tonight how tired she must be, driving around running errands, managing the household and cooking meals for us ungrateful children. Hence, I offered to give her a massage. There was a lot of things that I reflected on while I was massaging my mother. Her nightgown had holes around the collars and I realised that she has been wearing the same old nightgown for as long as I could remember!

She is not a stingy person, she would buy me clothes once in a while when I said that I needed new clothes but she barely buys things for herself. Every year during Hari Raya, everyone would buy new clothes to wear but she has absolutely no problems wearing the same ones that she did last year. She only buys handbags when she is absolutely sure that her old handbag cannot be used anymore and as far as I know, she only has 2 handbags currently, which is way less than most women I know of own nowadays!

Then, I reflected on what I have been doing lately. On a long break while waiting for my SPM results, I barely did anything to help. I feel very sorry as I tried to put myself in her shoes and imagine how tired she must be. Even myself, a healthy 18-year-old can get worn out easily doing the simplest of tasks, then how must my 55-year-old mother must have felt all this while? Needless to say, I am very guilty.

I will take a mental note to try and help around more in the house, for even the simplest things can make her day a whole lot better.

I should give her more massages too! 🙂

#NoLikesNeeded–In Which We Talk Screen Time

After I read this, I changed my Instagram bio to “Pictures do not do life justice” because that is exactly what more people should know.


Dear Lily June,

Your dad and I have old phones. Like, really old phones. How old are they?

  • Dinosaurs used them for selfies, but couldn’t find the as-yet-uninvented anti-asteroid filter, so they died. Cave men painted our cell phones on walls.
  • The stones of Easter Island aren’t as hardy–or as old–as the bricks your dad and I carry around, barely capable of taking photos and about as capable as a blind Amish octogenarian with no thumbs of surfing the internet.
  • They were old enough, in fact, that your dad, when he had to replace his, was able to do so for a dollar, Lily. One hundred pennies. Think about that.

Mobile_phone_evolution Suffice it to say, we’re closer to the top of the lineup than the bottom.

We don’t plan on getting new phones anytime soon, either, in part because we’re just not modern phone people. We know how to settle in…

View original post 1,318 more words