Imperfection.

When pride overcomes me, when I get too big for myself, when I itch to brag, when I feel superior to people of my age, I thought I was a supremely good child of my parents. I was too mature to go throught “that phase” of childish tantrums and akward mood swings. I listen to parents ranting about their rebelious children in “that phase” of life and I thought to myself, “I was never like that. Wow..I’m good.” I thought I have made it to today because of what I have done, not my parents, my God, my friends.

How wrong, how wrong. Indeed, a fool of a Took speakeths loudly.

It’s funny how your memory is jogged a little with each encounter; not too hard, just enough to remember a piece of the puzzle. Pieces by pieces, bit by bit, using that small piece of puzzle as the cornerstone, pictures of your childhood days emerge.

It’s not pretty.

I was definitely never a supremely good child. Neither was I never rebelious, nor was I mature. I was never as good as I thought I was. I did go through “that phase”.

You know, I have always thought that a teenager can control her behaviour regardless of the situation and the environment. It is a choice and ultimately, she bears the consequences. Despite the hormonal change during puberty and those scientific researches, that teenagers do go through “that phase” in life where they look up to anyone or anything except their parents for guidance and hence the fist fights at home, I have this staunch stand that one (or at least I) can go against the wind of change.

I have always believed that I don’t have to conform to my hormones; I don’t have to give excuses because of some weird internal mechanism that is taking place. In fact, I thought it as “weak” for girls to be girly and go all hay wire because their hormones are acting up. Life can go on with common sense and the go getter attitude; say good bye to hormones. Heck, even testoterone doesn’t amuse me. I’m such a boy.

Yeah I am weird.

Fret not, every day is a new day and I am being changed daily. I’ve learnt that, you know what, it is okay to go through “that phase”. It is okay to have rebeled; I have had my share of childish tantrums in my teens. Ironically, it is because of those acts that I am who I am today.

I’m not making any sense, am I?

I was talking to a mom about piano and I had flashes of those moments when I was angry because people were comparing me to my uncle who learnt piano by himself. I was talking to a pastor and I was reminded by how God had put so many precious people in my sights to light the path for me. Without them, without my wonderful uncle who inspired me, without all those frusfrations in my 18 years of life, looking back would have been dull. I could be standing by a cliff overlooking nothingness.

Tantrums, silly anger, foolish thoughts, harsh words, odd friends, annoying teachers…it’s the spices of life. That’s how one’s life is jazzed up.

Now it’s like standing by a cliff overlooking a lake, looking into fogginess. Sometimes, the fog clears up in the east of you and you can see clearer what is on the east of you. Sometimes the west side of you clears up. Sometimes it doesn’t.

Whatever it is, imperfection? It’s fine. I don’t need the whole picture of my past if I can accept my own imperfection and search for other’s inner beauty.