Long story short, I got married almost a decade ago. It wasn’t part of the plan and I never imagined to be someone’s wife at such a young age. In an honest word, I married a stranger whom I barely knew. Life happened and I didn’t really give it much thought. Having to adapt to a new companion wasn’t an easy thing for me to comprehend. It takes time, and time has never been a good friend of mine. I left my past relationship, which I had been in for years, before I put on my wedding dress, just like that. It was one of the toughest things I had to do, but somehow, I believed I had to do it anyway.
Along the way, my view on life slowly shifted, and quite profoundly. My standards became much higher than what I had when I was 15. This new man was tremendously invested in me, and I had no clue how someone could get so authentically attached to an avoidant person like me. I had no idea and, honestly, I never bothered to discover the psychology behind it. As long as it benefited me materially and emotionally, I was fine with that. Anyway, time went by and I slowly let myself allow this new person to explore my world. Not the whole thing, but little by little. His background was fairly decent, and travelling seemed to be an annual kind of ritual in his family. Every year, there should be at least one city to visit, and it was always the city in the nursery rhyme where the bridge keeps falling down. (I make it sounds very bad!)
I wasn’t familiar with that kind of ritual. I was raised and surrounded by academicians. Books were everywhere on the table. Papers and pens could easily be found even in the busiest corner of the kitchen. Travelling, in the physical sense, was never really a hobby. It was more about attending conferences. Everything was academic. My perspective on travelling was rather mundane and serious back then, until I met my in-laws. For them, travelling was a way to open the mind. No journal, no laptop, no papers, no pen. Just them, in their human form, with hearts full of adventurous spirit. Their view on travelling made me happy. I don’t really know how to describe the feeling, but there was a part of my heart that suddenly made me feel human.
On the other hand, the learning was still ongoing and he kept peeking at the other side of me, wishing to unleash another piece of knowledge he might discover about me. I let him do it, but I never really helped him do it. You know? Then, we went to the same city for a couple of years, and the final year I went was this year, 2026 (I wish this will be the last time, please God!) To arrive at Westminster Station for the 20th time, with the same scenic opening of Big Ben, started to invite a little boredom. I finally told him, “I’m getting sick of the same place. I wanna explore somewhere new.” Surprisingly, he had the same idea too. Our last visit to London stopped at Farringdon, where I intentionally wished to have something new.
I went for a short course with the writer of BBC Digital Children’s Channel, Tracey Hammett. Quite fascinating, huh? I was surprised too to have Tracey as my teacher for this short course. I was shaking and nervous before I stepped into the class, knowing that it was my first time attending a course in an entirely new place abroad. I was lucky! I wish to write more about my experience with Tracey in another article. I promise! *Pinky promise 🤙🏻
Back to the story. When we got the same idea of visiting other places, honestly, we had been to another city too. Clue: Bosphorus. I was more than happy to finally visit the place I had wished to go to when I was in boarding school. That part of the story was a blessing, and I wish to write about it too in another series.
Okay, since we finally had the same thinking, I was glad that he had also had enough of the same old thing. Taurus and Sagittarius were clearly incompatible. The Bull was more grounded and felt perfectly fine doing the same thing, but for me, the Sag, routine is a big no-no. I think my arrow finally shot the Bull right in his eye. Bull’s-eye! 🤣 He agreed with me. That was my 100th win. Okay, joke aside!
Then, after the class ended, we went food hunting. But this time, I told him, “I’ve had enough of English food. I want something spicy and full of flavour.” We went for shish kebab and döner, but somehow, it was still unsatisfactory. So, we went for our heart of heritage, a Malay cuisine cafe called The Malay Fellas. At that moment, the thought of not having to be an expat really humbled me. I can’t stay far more than a few days without spices, chillies and savoury food. I’m a true Malaysian. I know, right? I don’t know if those who go abroad are sometimes ashamed to admit how much they miss their own food, but well, I don’t care. I care about mine, and my tummy was at its peak of contentment when I tasted the Malay delicacies, ikan bawal asam pedas, kangkung goreng belacan and rice. It was heaven, I tell you. Funny enough, I had always thought I wouldn’t want to have Malay food abroad. I wanted to embrace the local food in whichever foreign city I was visiting. But look at who’s craving for asam pedas now? It was me. And I admit it. I had that little reluctant thought of not wanting to admit it!
As I age, I realise peace is all that matters. Be happy with your life even when you don’t fully understand it yet. Time will tell, even if it has never been a good friend of mine. So does the heart, and so does the openness of my feelings. I don’t have any idea how long it’ll take for me to stop concealing my truest feelings. But I guess time will tell.
London will always be a memorable place to visit, a place that holds a certain sentimental value. Big Ben is still standing tall and I will still look at it in awe, and asam pedas will always be the immediate option whenever this Malay gut starts missing home. And Farringdon? Well, you might wanna see how that story unfolds in the next one.
Cheers!
