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“This is your year!” My physiotherapist told me repeatedly, in the middle of this year. And this kept ringing in my head especially as we approach the end of 2020.

If 2019 was destroyed for me due to prolonged voice loss, and subsequently by a knee injury that left me in crutches and a wheelchair after I tried to find solace from my lack of voice in KPOP dance. 2020 was the year I bounced back from it all.

But how is that fair, when the Covid-19 hit and the world was suffering as a whole in 2020? How can it possibly be my year when everyone else is miserable?

Just imagine – exactly this time last year, I was still high from chasing an annular solar eclipse that graced our shores in Boxing Day 2019. (Yes, with my crutches and all.) Telescopes were set up en masse on the roof of Marina Barrage, with a crowd of possibly a thousand or more people (something totally unthinkable today) ooh-ing and ahh-ing as the moon passed in front of the sun.

Fast forward a year later, any group of more than 5 people is considered illegal.

Last November, as the boy and I were at 35,000 feet somewhere over the South China Sea on board an ANA flight back home from Tokyo, I spoke about how I’m looking forward to a trip next year without my wheelchair or crutches. That trip hasn’t happened.

3 months later, Wuhan went on lockdown and I remember screeching at my dad incredulously “OH MY GOD, did they just lock down an entire city?! Holy shit.”

The alert level went up in Singapore around the same time and suddenly, supermarkets were wiped clean. This apocalyptic scene was totally unprecendented and struck me as odd – because surely, weren’t we a first world nation? But then I realized, first world nation or not, once our basic sense of security is disrupted, our suvival instincts are activated. We’re all human beings after all.

Then Europe went on lockdown. Then Malaysia. It just kept inching closer.

And came early April, Singapore also went on partial lockdown.

Everything just grounded to a halt. Roads were empty. Our skies were empty. My room faced the South and I was so used to seeing planes in holding formation and approaching our airport from my window. I barely saw anything. Very rarely now, I would spot a dreamliner and shriek. And my parents will look at me as if I’ve gone mad.

The pandemic has ravaged humankind, our economies, our daily lives. People are dropping like flies from this plague across the globe. A close friend of mine lost a parent to Covid-19 and I remember feeling so indignant about how people are losing their lives yet there are still people out there gallivanting around and being so flippant about it, even dismissing it as a hoax. If 2020 isn’t horrific enough because of the virus, it’s made even worse because it’s exposed the cracks of stupidity in people.

“Never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups” – one of my fridge magnet reads. No shit.

It really feels like a twin pandemic.

But still, I can’t help but also feel that there’s some truth in “2020 is your year”.

I spent plenty of time at home working on strengthening my legs so I could walk again. I downgraded to a single crutch, then realized I could once again take on 10K steps without any walking aids in March. I resumed dancing at the end of March. Then, the “Circuit Breaker” lockdown happened in April and all my physiotherapy sessions had to grind to a halt. But still, I worked hard at home and regained my mobility.

2020 was also the year the world slowed down with me. I’m used to being home since I needed plenty of rest for my conditions and with everyone else at home, there was little to FOMO about.

2020 was the year where masks became commonplace. I no longer feel out of place when I head outside with my mask, since everyone else is wearing them too. I can only hope that this mask wearing culture continues beyond this pandemic so I will no longer have to contend with people sneezing/coughing on public transport and spreading their germs everywhere.

And speaking of masks, whoa – the variety of masks available totally exploded. Prior to this pandemic, I had to source my reusable cloth masks from an overseas seller on Etsy. Or I had to contend with the locally-available disposable masks in typical colours like blue and white.

I went on a mask buying spree, much to the amusement of everybody. For I feared that once this pandemic is over, nobody will be making masks anymore.

And anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. To summarize, 2020 just felt like a typical year for me even though it was vastly different for everyone else.

Here’s to 2021.

In 2021, let this world heal. Not just from the pandemic, but for people to realize how their daily (irresponsible) decisions and actions can affect others. This is also assuming that people are intelligent enough to begin with to realize their own folly. After all, stupid people don’t know they are stupid. But if you can’t be less stupid, at least learn to be less selfish. Because the world doesn’t revolve around you.

Also, Joe Biden will become the President of the United States from January which is honestly, the biggest freakin’ gift from 2020 to the world.

Several nights in Vancouver meant several nights of late night chats with my favourite cousin D.

We reminisced about the music we used to listen to, and sang them out loud when driving around. (Apparently, he remembers “Barbie Girl” as the first song that I introduced to him when he was 7. Although I distinctly remembered it as “Tarzan and Jane” by Toybox. 🤔)

We reminisced about growing up together.

About how close we used to be with two other cousins when we were growing up, and how we suddenly drifted apart from them when we reached adulthood.

“Yeah, I really missed those days. The four of us used to travel so much together.” I quipped.

“Yeah, but I have to say, I really feel that it was them who drifted away from us.” – D.

I also had that sentiment, but couldn’t quite pinpoint why. Perhaps it’s just the passage of time. Or not enough effort on both sides to initiate contact. I don’t know. Relationships suddenly become harder to maintain once we get older, with more responsibilities, no matter how close we all used to be.

But then again, D and I are so far apart. He’s 12,813 kilometres (or a 12 + 4 hour flight) away for a huge portion of the past 8 years of our lives. Yet when we get back together, it still feels like the good old days and all hell breaks loose (in a good way).

And I’m really happy about that.

We spoke about how we were both brought up in an extended family culture where relatives pitted us endlessly against against one another.

Grades comparison were endless, and unfortunately, I was often the basis of comparison. (I.e. “Why can’t you be more like Che Che Brenda? She studies so hard.”) A fact that I used to be proud of – that other parents wanted their kids to be like me, but only later on realized there’s really no point in studying so hard when it only about grades chasing (as I did in the past).

We spoke about our own upbringing and what we liked/disliked about it. And it was at this point I realized that indeed, the personalities and attitudes of the elders that surrounded us did shape us substantially while we were growing up. We both went through periods of self doubt during the impressionable teenage years (which we did not talk to each other about back then but only just confided in each other).

For me, I grew up with a very low self confidence and was constantly doubting myself. And since late-Primary School, I was criticised endlessly for my looks.

“Why do you have so many pimples on your face?”
“Why are you not taking care of your skin?”
“Why are you always wearing jeans?”
“Why can’t you dress more like a lady?”

I was pressured to do facials when I was only fourteen. I refused, only to be labelled as “stubborn” and told that “I had to start these things early”. Extended family members chided me each time I broke out into spots. And there was plenty of pressure to conform to gender identity, especially since I had a rather tomboyish persona.

Perhaps my relentless grades-chasing back then was my own way to compensate for my lacking self-confidence. Good grades seemed to be the best form of morale boost to me.

And being young, most of us don’t really confront all these negative pressures in the face. Although, several times I did bring this up, only to be told the following.

“It was just a joke lah!”
“You have to stop being so sensitive!”
“Aunty ___/Uncle ___ was just being concerned.”

Concerned, my backside.

“We were young back then. We don’t really have the power. Adults always think they know better just because they are older. But they don’t always do. And they don’t realize what they say can really impact us.” – D.

“Unfortunately, both of us are only-children, which means that our parents were forced to learn on-the-job when we were born. And no parent is perfect.” – me.

The conversation about our respective upbringings went on and on, but most of it are too personal so they shall just remain in my mind.

When I looked up at the clock, it was 12.35am and we had yammered on and on for three hours.

It’s time to pack up and go home to Singapore.

My dear D, please choose the path you feel suits you best and never succumb to parental pressure. Be happy always and I’ll see you again soon!