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  • Writer's pictureMalar Villi

Choice or fate

What choices did I make today ? I hate this question as it forces me to take responsibility for myself . I cannot blame others for my difficulty, moods, unhappiness or results . It's unfair. Why should I take responsibility when others make my life difficult . I did not choose to be born into this family, my family doesn't understand me and often enough I am just a victim of my life . What choices? If any of these voices are familiar to you , welcome to life ...which is full of choices! The worst truth that hit me one day was that not making a choice was a choice . But it happened to be the liberating knowledge later. To know that making my own choices was better than surrendering to fate . This truth only hit me in my twenties . I grew up believing in destiny . I was born into a family that only knew sadness, tears, pains and fights. I grew up believing that I must have done something bad in my past life and now I needed to pay for it. I accepted it. I didn't dare question it. But I wanted out . I couldn't live to be married to man who will end up an alcoholic or a man who decides what I eat , wear or who my friends would be . I was a rebel in my clan but a quiet one. I exercised the only choice I had . Hang in there and flee. Flee this life ..but where would I go , so I hung in there real tight , for the right opportunity . It was years later I knew that holding on sometimes was good practice, a good choice. It was a great choice to wait. Thank goodness , I didn’t choose to runaway , which I had attempted in my mind many times but no , I had no courage to live alone. Then the day came, 1st of May 1990, I packed my bags , got into the train and I saw tears roll down my mums cheek. But I was not moved to guilt. I found courage . Dad was sad too. My boyfriend, he was the one I was running away from, I was sure . I must thank him for scaring me with his possesiveness which he termed love and aggressivess packed together. My need for education got me out of home to the dreamland , Kuala Lumpur. The day I was truly born. Yes , I chose differently . I chose to lie about my job , chose to leave home. The consequence? I found myself . Here's a time I felt sure that there was a good lie. But I prayed hard every day , not to be found, not until I make it. Today , when my family read this , they will know that I lied. What the hack? It was years later , that I realized that I made my choices , immaterial if it is accepted or not. I chose to study while my friends partied. I broke off with the first man who loved me to bits only because he wanted to own me while I wanted to be my own person. I chose to dance in the nights to pay for my degree. I chose to live with my housemate instead of the safe space my relatives offered for my freedom. I needed to be free...even to make mistakes.I wasn't prudent for many years but now. It's the choice I made with no regrets. It feels strange that being rebellious felt good. If you have been reading this far, it must have fed the rebel in you. What does the rebel in you say every day ? What do you ( the socially accepted being) say everyday about choices ? Do you have a choice ? or It was chosen for you ?

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