Home, Kuching.

Whilst Kuching has always been home, it has shown me more than ever this time exactly how much my roots make up of me, in ways I haven't realise till now. How home means so much to me. I haven't been home for this long since the UK and I know it must be very stupid to say that I never know playing badminton after dinner is so popular back home. I never know that everyone can be spontaneous to meet up for a coffee. There's so much to adapt, so much to recall, so much to get used to. 

However, I have to admit that coming back home brings a whole lot of things back into place. I'm used to jokes that aren't my culture only because I want to fit in, but only Malaysian humour makes me laugh myself out. I'm so used to protect myself and not let others see through me, but coming back home, after reconnecting with friends and families,  I found that I am only me myself when I'm transparent to them. It is hard but it is important to realise that coming home allowed surfacing of things that needed to be processed and dealt with.

That's probably the hardest.

I guess everyone has their problem. We aren't as shiny as we are on social media. It is important to know that we all need help. It is either from others or from within. Remember, it is professional to ask for help, it is not a sign of loser, it is a sign of boldness.

Guess I'll take my time to mend my heart whilst I'm here. After all these years,  I guess only that particular park and that tropical summer breeze is what I needed most.