The Portrait of Failure

I have not been writing, because recently I feel that my writing inspiration has come to some what of a standstill - there's a lot of negative energy these days, mostly from my current job as marketing executive secretary. In any case, I've spent a lot of time talking to people - friends mostly - on what I do I really want in life?

Surprisingly, after weeks of contemplation, I have drawn a complete blank. I felt almost a sense of loss, because people that know me, know that I am very sure of what I want. I am often the most decisive, the most sure. However, that was when yardsticks and KPIs were clear, in the form of grades and academic transcripts. It was also easier in post-graduate because your success was solely based on 2 markers giving you the go-ahead that you're a qualified researcher and thesis-maker.

In any case, the world outside school has always confounded me. I find myself increasingly lost at this maze of would-be achievements and metrics of "success". I have people tell me, I'm not "making enough" as a masters degree holder. Others informed me that I am simply doing what everyone else is doing - being the overpaid administrative secretary cog-and-wheel in a large organisation. It is at once frustrating and perplexing to be asked to print documents for your bosses, and to be at the beck-and-call of higher management (professional travel agent anyone?). Yet I see many people being okay with this - that it's alright to come into the workplace just doing what the bosses want, keeping a low profile and earning a monthly salary. For some reason, such an undertaking does not sit comfortably with me at all - and as much as I am a self-starter, I am hungry to learn more from others to see how they do things, so that I can return to teach others the same and pass those skills on.

I start to question what do I really want in life?

History has always been the best teacher and so I contemplated in the periodical episodes of life in what Life-Course researchers term "turning points".

I wanted to first be a conductor, and musician and a musical director. Until my parents told me that they can never afford me to live the undetermined life of a musician because I have to take care of them in their old age. The second nail to that coffin was that, I couldn't do musical dictation because I don't have perfect pitch. It was a handicap and unfortunately, I've learnt very early on that my brain just wasn't wired that way. Sadly, I also failed my audition to take A'level music - being told I wasn't good enough wasn't something that I wanted to hear, especially when I thought I did very well at O'level music. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be and I often label myself as a music-reject. I am someone who has enough talent to appreciate, but not make the wonders and magic that delights the aural senses of so many.

So I turned to my other passion - sciences. I thought perhaps I would become a food scientist/nutritionist since I love the science that goes behind baking/cooking. I applied to do H2 math, even volunteered to retain another year so that I can live my dream. The school rejected me forthrightly, considering that it'll perhaps bring down their reputation. I was rejected once again, at the onset of a path which I today, still think I would enjoy. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be, and struggling with Math all my life, it was something that I thought perhaps I'm never gonna do well in.

After wards, I turned to something I could do well in - Geography. I have always done well in this subject with little effort. The concepts always stuck well to my brain and I could re-call facts more easily than any other subject. That's perhaps what others call as "flair" in the subject. However it wasn't my number one passion. It was a bread-and-butter staple which got me going but doesn't delight my senses. It felt hollow, and ever success in this made me step back because it also acutely reminded me of how my passions and reality don't meld - and they may never meet.

I wanted to badly to go Geology later - marrying the conceptual understandings in geography with my love for chemistry and physics. Unfortunately, while I qualify to go overseas to do my degree there, my parents could not afford the hefty school fees. Furthermore, my mum had her stroke and leaving the country was simply not an option. I was bitter, upset, to only work so hard to qualify to enter a geology programme only to have failed again. No matter how hard I tried, it was just meant not to work out. For years, I was once again, having to settle for second-best. This time, it was more personal because it wasn't due to ability, but life circumstances that made me fail. It wasn't my failure, but it was a failure of consequences that I would have to live with. Till this day, I will forever live with "what if" questions.

During my masters, I took a part-time job, and I thought I was doing rather well at it. Until one day, the students I was managing quit en-masse because I was too harsh, and too dictatorial. I didn't see things their way. Later I learnt that my colleagues were also unhappy with my conduct, and they told my boss about it. It was a huge blow to my self-esteem, partly because I felt that I was doing well to push the show forward. Unfortunately, I was too careless with how I made others feel. It was a huge crush to my confidence as well, because I always felt that I had leadership matters on hand. Unfortunately, I had to live with the consequences and I cried bitterly over my failures. It was not a pretty time, and I had to prune my ego and pride away to see where I had gone wrong. At that moment, I felt very much not-in-control, and wondered for the first time, am I suited for working life at all?

During my masters, it was a very rocky road because writing academically because a challenge. For the first time in a long time, I did not score near the top of my class, and neither did I do well in modules. After the previous incident, I felt like I am not deserving, and left myself go completely. I would cry on the NUS roof top almost every other week. I'm forever lucky to call a friend, who was a good listener, and we discussed on many topics that ranged from philosophy to religion, and in some ways, helped me walk out of the dark path.

Fast forward to my first full-time job - the first few months was absolute hell. I would feel down-trodden and horrible because my manager could scold me every other day for not understanding something, or not doing something correctly. I couldn't answer her questions very well, because I was struggling in an environment that was 180 different from where I was used to. I was very very confused and negligent in a lot of things. It hit me harder because after 3 months of internship, I still wasn't converted to a full-time position and my bank account was wearing thin. I was doing full-time work with half-time pay. I was extremely depressing. In any case, even when I was converted eventually, my working days was more dark than light, and I dreaded going to work everyday.

Things looked well after a couple of months, partly because my manager left, and I was happy for months. I left the company because my bank account couldn't take the strain anymore, and now in my current job, I feel even more under-utilised. I've never once felt so disenchanted with what I'm doing and disempowered by the management of the company. In a way, I felt that I could have asked more pressing questions during the interview, and I could have made my interests clearer. However, I was too desperate to leave to ask beyond the obvious and see the danger signs that presented itself.

Now, I'm at another crossroads. The portraits of failure have thought me, that behind the veneer of success - presented in the form of social media posts, dinner-table conversations, hide the true complexity of what success really means. To many, I am an example of success - well-educated, job stability, brilliant in mind etc. However, these did not come at a cost. No one, in fact very few, have seen my blood, sweat and tears. I also have the same amount of self-doubt, periods of low confidence and self-esteem. I have also been told off that I wasn't good enough.

I wish to share, that everyone of us don't know what the hell we're doing. We're busy trudging along anyway, and pretending to the whole world that we know. We want to portray the very image of success, because very few of us want to admit that we're an accumulation of our failures and lessons. Conversely, there are those who are self-critical - who see only their failures because they benchmark themselves to the seemingly top of the class, without considering that path of destruction and sacrifice it took to get there. That like my failed-nutritionist and musician dream, that we're just cut from different cloths are not meant to compete in those fields. We are sunflowers in the midst of roses, and we should be proud of it. We should see our own kind, and work in synthesis to create the dreams we want, and not the dreams that we ought to have.

I think constant failures remind us that we're not losers, but messages that perhaps this path taken is not suitable for our dispositions. It is okay to keep finding, and searching. There is no shame in not knowing what we want. My only wish is that more people are honest about themselves, that we don't always know what we want in this point in life, and that is okay. It takes courage to admit that you're not happy in your current station, and it takes strength to do something about it.

Where failure is concerned, it is only truly the end, if you stop trying. So don't ever stop trying, pushing, changing and learning from others and yourself. I have failed so many times, and will continue to fail in the future. However, every little bit of it has taught me so many things about myself. I wish my experiences will serve as reminders that even the best of us fail - and some of us more than others. Yet in this war-torn battlefield, we wear the scars that we simply survived, and that is an achievement in and of itself. We should do better than who we were yesterday, and not punish ourselves to benchmark our abilities with the illusions of others.

I hope, after reading this, you'll forgive yourself more. Society needs to forgive failures more often, and be slow to judge but quick to empathise. For every one, their path is different yet so similar, and our dreams and hopes are not always matched with our abilities. We just need time, and strength, to find our way and in the process of it all, the success that will come, will eventually come.

Doing a masters: is there regret?

It's been 2 years since I stepped out of the ivory tower, into the chaotic honking world, to undertake formal employment. Back then, if not for a very kind colleague-now-good-friend, I would not have known my rights and my agency as an employee. Back then, looking at how my colleagues the same age have already progressed so far ahead in their careers, I can't help but wonder if my decision to do a masters was hasty, or even a sign of reluctance to move out of "the school" where there are no longer any clear goals or scores to strive for.

I don't necessarily regret doing my masters for personal reasons. As a workaholic, I had more time to fall in love, and find meaning of life outside of my work. I also had more time to travel and see the world with good friends. I also rekindled my lifelong passion for theatre, and staged productions I can be proud of. Amidst, I made many great aquaintenances and social networks that continue to make an impact.

The dream of a well-educated scholar seeking to contribute outside of the ivory tower was quickly faced with a rude awakening. A masters in social sciences, outside of academia, is pretty much a footnote in anyone's CV. It is drastically different if one has an MBA. The hierarchy of disciplines exist in the market where social sciences post graduate degrees (I suspect PhD as well) may cause 2 blinks but not raise an eyebrow of employers. It vastly differs between industries of course, but in my experience, very few hire because of qualifications alone. I spoke to my bosses - ex and current - and they stated that while my masters was a good-to-have, and indicates that I may have maturity, they were more drawn to my event-organising experience and ability to interpret and work with stats. So ultimately, what value does a masters have? After 2 years, I seek to come to terms the returns of a postgraduate degree in social sciences.

Well, that is of course assuming you did a postgrad degree to advance in your career. Many of my colleagues in academia do it because they are truly passionate in their area of study. So passionate was I in exploring theatre as a method for young people's expression and education in socio-political matters, I decided to set aside 2 years of life for this pursuit. There's also very little avenues in life, now that I've realised on hindsight, that allows one to solely focus on a dedicated pursuit. Not even at a professor's level, not anywhere else except postgrad school. It's an extremely privileged position, and I was lucky to go to a proverbial mountain to metaphorically meditate on a subject of my choosing. I don't flaunt a masters like a degree because it is a privilege, not a right, I had due to complex social and economic path-dependencies.
At work, I'm not sure if my masters training contributed to anything. However, I must say that I've grown to be more patient of certain frustrations at work - i.e. Weberian iron cages of bureaucracy and a very Foucauldian sense of self-discipline in an open-plan office concept. I have also realised that social sciences knowledge have made me almost a walking encyclopedia to my clients/colleagues. People ask, "how do you know so much?" Which is, admittedly, always nice. At the same time, it grants perspective and in some areas of the industry, perspectives are what employers look for.

Perhaps it is of no coincidence that the french word, employer - to use - is also used to describe bosses that hire. Employer: to use, a user. The lesson I've gained over these 2 years is that, we are all being used for our skillsets or use others for the same reason. This increasingly dehumanising approach in companies is sadly the reality for many employees. Ultimately there will be those that find meaning in their work, especially those in the social and health services. If work is an empty shell, the empty hearse of the humdrum of life, then my masters is the continuing light and hearth that keeps me going especially during difficult times. It is comforting to be able to step back from a tough day at work and be able to reflect, to perhaps sometimes put on a geographical or sociological, or even historical lens to understand what factors contributed to my frustration.

Do I regret doing my masters? In terms of work skills and time "lost" in my career progression, absolutely. Yet, the time lost also ironically gave me more time to retreat and focus. If the skills and discipline developed during postgraduate study do not manifest themselves into focus, determination and fortitude, then having a masters is nothing but a self-indulgent pursuit. If reading endless literature does not translate into taking into account multiple stakeholders' interest and interconnecting symbiosis within an organisation, then all there is left are just words and concepts. If working cross culturally during conferences doesn't make you more sensitive or open to connections, then perhaps, ivory tower indeed. the process of doing a postgrad degree should leave you changed, transformed, humbled.

Ultimately, a masters is the sign, that signifies the educational journey, the proliferation of one's ideas through healthy debate and discussion. The semiotics of education cannot be so easily captured in a singular concept such as returns on investment. A dialectical process or abstraction, is necessary, to fully appreciate the qualities that proliferate in an individual. These qualities continue to unfold throughout life, and becomes a foundation upon other pursuits are built upon.

If spending 2 years gives me thirst for knowledge, compassion and lifelong learning, I gladly drink.

Types of Intimacy

As I settle down and am more at peace with being single, it's easier to see things that is beyond the black-and-white.

Some people often refer to their partners as their "all and everything". Partners share everything with each other - their interests, their desires and their hopes and dreams. It's an intimate partnership that is built on trust. However, there is also an inherent assumption that your partner has to also understand and some what empathise with your interests, hopes and dreams. I think the act of love is to still embrace the person in spite of your (un)derstanding of your partner's interests/intellectual leanings. That is, we come to have faith and still love the thing we do not understand.

Ultimately, that's accepting the person for who they are. Of course it is easy to accept someone because you fully understand where they're coming from and furthermore, you're also able to add on to the discussion and have your own point of view. It becomes a melding of the minds - and an intellectual intimacy develops that is layered upon the emotional bond that both of the partners already have. However, it takes a special kind of courage to still accept someone despite not knowing what theories/insights that the person is spouting, and have the faith to still embrace the individual.

Love is about being brave. Above all, intellectual acumen without heart is ultimately a soulless world.

So I've come to a realisation that there are multiple intimacies. That we can love individuals differently and the person whom we may choose to spend our lives with, need not embody all the intimacies we are seeking. For instance, there is a sense of survivalist bond amongst ex-addicts that huddle in their weekly meetings that their wives/husbands have no privy to. It's a closeness that is amongst people who have gone through and triumphed against their addiction. For the academically inclined, exchange of ideas and theories, discursive deconstructions and debates is an intellectually charged atmosphere that is rarely experienced by individuals outside of the ivory tower. It is an intimacy shared only because both parties understand each other by understanding their respective fields well. Because it is so rare to find people who understand abstract philosophies and principles, individuals who do become treasures (or enemies!).

Then there is a type of emotional link between parents and their children that no one (in a functional) family can undo. Be it adopted or not, god children or not, the link between parents and children is something that goes beyond words. There's something to be said when these are the people who have seen you at your worst and best - and still stand by you no matter what.

Lastly, the physical and emotional bond between lovers. The warm kisses and hot caresses at night is both private and intimate. The sense of a stranger, not family nor relative, to see you naked and vulnerable is both exhilarating and fascinating. With each phase of the relationship, the melding of 2 unrelated families (mostly, unless of course you have to marry within a particular social circle) into 1 through the love of 2 complete strangers. How girlfriends become part of a weekly social affair for the family and boy friends help out their partner's family when they have a renovation. It's the willing sacrifice that is not born out of familial or national duty but affection that becomes binding.

So in the past, while I've been hard pressed to find someone who can share all forms of intimacies. I need to check my ego and understand that intimacies are also multi-faceted. There are friends or individuals in general, who like me, are looking for someone to share their full and rich lives with. However, let us also take 2 steps back and understand, whether if what we're asking of our partners is something that we can live with, when our partners ask the same of us? I for once, can never understand sports and can never share that joy and jubilation when someone scores a goal. It's an intimacy that I can never have access to. However, it doesn't mean I love my father any less. It doesn't mean we don't still share a strong father-child bond.

We cannot ask of our partners, to fill the gap. This is not shopping - we're not here for someone to love us just because they fill a need in their lives. Love is a choice, and we choose to love someone because they share an intimacy - they compel us. It is not a rational choice, it is a choice made for us by us, for reasons we do not yet know. So while we may want our lovers to have everything our hearts desire, it will be a missed opportunity if we are so fixated with this goal. We fail to love if we are looking for a match. While no doubt it is important to find someone of the same wave length to have healthy communications, to demand that our lovers share our every intimacy will foreclose us to the other intimacies we can have in any relationship.

Ultimately, friends, intellectual equals, family and all that form as large a part of our lives as our lovers. It is therefore okay, if your need for intellectual intimacy marries you to publish journals rather than having a family or partner. It is perfectly acceptable to want to be with family all the time because you treasure that bond way more than any other. Ultimately, we are complex beings and as life shifts and the rivers of fate twists, we will change and our priorities may change.

In the mean time, being happy is being exactly where you want to at this point in life. Don't let anyone tell you differently.

Causation: the caustic mix

Why?

The question we wail over when a loved one departs from us suddenly.

Why?

The question we raise in a meeting when faced with a professional crisis.

Why?

The question we punch into the dry wall when our partners leave us.

Why indeed?

We have all kinds of theories, and the stories or explanations we tell ourselves balms the raw caustic wound. It helps us cope with loss as well as success. Such an explanation, while valid, may not be true. The devil's charm lies in an otherwise pure statement that sits in an entirely different context. Because it is a statement of validation, it inherently also affirms and validates our ego. It is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

In reality, a person's success or failure, can be completely random. It might be due to ability, or chance. It might be due to fortuitous family fortunes, or ancestral path dependencies. We find reasons when there is none, and we own both of those. We also equate the Whys in life with the Hows. How often do you hear that the question of "how do you do it" followed up with an answer that starts with "because..." instead of "the process was..."

Whys are potent caustic chemicals that feed and destroy. Whys are mechanisms we use to justify our actions. Whys are the source of our strength as well as weakness. Do we therefore stop asking questions of causation?

I'm not entirely sure if I am personally capable, after all Buddhism preaches that everything is nothing, and in nothingness, everything. In Judeo-Christanity, God is the why and center of everything. It doesn't mean that the root of causation lies in the heart of faiths (or Faiths). The caustic solution of causation is not in seeking an answer (which we may not find), but when the answer to our questions stop at "I".

I have realised that when faced with Whys, the sensation of looking at the reasons causing the circumstances I'm in, is the same as looking at a night of a starry-lit sky. It is so large, so vast and so infinitely scaled, that our minds can only process the light that took a million light years to reach us. Reasons, or causation, is exactly the same. Factors in our life, crisscross in intersecting networks that one small quiver in the distant web, sends vibrations across all other nodes of our lives. It's on the same cosmic scale of complexity that any train of thought that reasons the Why of where we are and where we're from boils down to just one permutation of causation when in actuality, life (re)aligns itself continuously all the time.

There is a cucoon of stasis, of a dynamic equilibrium that we have from a day-to-day that makes our lives seem ceaselessly repetitive. Yet when we look at back at our lives, we see so much changes and wonder where all the time has gone. We sit on a scale of being human while factors like time run in an entirely different dimension.

The reasons and search for answers must never stop, and more importantly, never stop at your own star. We are constellations and our light reaches others in ways we may not understand. We touch others way ahead or behind us - our legacy sits within a galaxy where forces influence this dance we have.

Everything happens not for a reason, but for a multitude of reasons. Sometimes, we just have to trust, accept and let it go.

Thoughts on Defensiveness

Happy Lunar New Year folks! I hope the feasting has kept us all full for the entire year. This time of year always reminds me how lucky I am to be situated between cultures. Hey, we get to celebrate 2 new-years AND Christmas. How about that.

Fat die us.

In any case, this year I've been stock taking on the events past, 2 or even 5 years ago. I've decided to check something below the bridge, to see if the water is clear as I once initially assumed.

To confess, I've been slightly unsettled lately - keeping myself busy to avoid most social gatherings because I'm not in a particularly social mood. There's a thorn in my chest I want to remove, and I've been upset by circumstances outside my personal life.

So after all that personal rambling, sorry I mean context, I've decided to come out to ponder upon this skeleton in my closet - defensiveness.

Recently, before the lunar new year, I was chatting with a good friend about how I constantly look for reasons behind. Why? How? The sense of life that can be not just explained, but discovered. Over the years, I suppose the number of books and my penchant for reading spoilers have kinda proved the fact. More importantly, I got away with it because I've been blessed with a good sound mind.

Some of you who follow my writings know I expound on pride, arrogance, hubris. Defensiveness is the lion licking it's wounds.

Like all wounds, it appears in many shapes and forms. Taking it personally, reflecting back on the user ("you did it too!!"), being nonchalant, or finding still more evidence to suit your case. On rare occurrence, I see defensiveness get manifested into a kind of one-upper or the other extreme, self-pity.

I admit to committing all of the above. I still do - ultimately Humans are humans despite our achievements. Lest I commit an 18th century error in psychology for type I generalisations to label these behaviours as pathos, this is in no way an exercise to call people out or to even to say that we have a societal problem.

I mean, if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, it's called contemplation.

When we are defensive, we have something to guard, to protect. More often than not, we protect our ego, our sense of self-worth. Personally for me, I was extremely defensive when my work also became my identity. Humans achieve a great deal, but we are not only define by what we are capable. Ultimately there will always be someone better, even though. we may be pretty near the top of the pinnacle in terms of wealth, health, smarts. I mean hasn't Victor Hugo outlined very clearly in Les Misérables that "little people have power too". Revolution has turned over regimes, no matter your wealth, health or smarts.

So ultimately, what constitutes identity is something we have to evaluate for ourselves. However what my reflection thus far has taught me is that, if we are defined by what we do, our jobs, I sense that my self-serving monster rear it's head.

"What are you trying to prove? To whom are you proving it to? Why are you defending yourself?"

We all defend a part of ourself we don't like and don't want people to know. Which is why I find the failures of Sherlock as dazzling as his constant successes. There is no shame to be vulnerable, even if you are the worst kind of human. If you are the worst kind of human, since when do you give a fuck about what others think?

Let it go, it doesn't matter anymore.

The best can accept you at your worst - Bonny had Clyde. 

Hubris: the lies we tell ourselves

My best friend told me that pride would be my downfall. The incessant need to always be right. 4 years ago, I never understood how that could be a bad thing. I felt that I see clearer than others, knew more, could reason better.

I was invincible.

Yet, also incredibly idiotic.

I can't exactly pin down the day I turned around. I think rejection helps. I've always had my lack-of-lovers-rant keep me grounded that I'm not as awesome as I think I am. It will always be a trouble to accept that part of me, to swallow hubris and come down from my false pedestal.

I am not the king of anything.

Of course now when I recognise hubris in others, it makes it doubly tragic. Yet, I have the humility now to accept the things I can't change, and while I may be their friend and sometimes counselor, I cannot decide for them that the best way is to punish them with "wise words" of "having been there" and make them come to relevation how much their arrogance have hurt those around them.

They may not sincerely care, especially when we're in the zone of the Mountain King (insert Edward Grieg music please).

If I may bottom-line my observations about hubris, it's stems from the Self. The protective need to defend the shell of a person we've created. Smart people have been defined by others and themselves and attribute their achievements to their Being. While those who have consistently failed, have a certain type of note that makes me arrogant because the alternative is unthinkable. To admit that one is a failure is crippling, especially when we're reminded by greatness all the time.

So hubris, while is also a personality trait, is simultaneously the lies we tell ourselves. We create roles or fantasies to assure ourselves. Because they are roles, we can afford not to take ownership of our mistakes, we can afford to blame the invisble "others". We find all kinds of justifications to assure that our fantasies hold water, do not break down due to inherent contradictions.

After a while, we become our lies, and we live is as truth. We devoid ourselves of peace. The paranoia takes over. People are always against you, or are too stupid to understand what you're saying, or do not necessarily see things your way because your logical reasoning reigns supreme.

The most dangerous part is that there is enough droplets of truth in there, to tinge the whole ocean red. It is the assumption and generalisation of some truths that holds up this lie. A person may be exceptionally smart that can pull this off. After all, the best stories are the ones that are littered with enough truth, created under different contexts and based on entirely fraudulent assumptions.

The best lies we tell ourselves are based on fact.

The emperor's clothes is a story of our pathos, and we strut around naked. A laughingstock, and while some may shrug it off and think that being accepted by everyone us overrated (rightfully so), they are also mirrors. Their reaction might be dumb, but their motivations for doing so are not.

Arrogance creeps up on us, and the best of us fall like Troy. There is no shame in admitting you have a problem, or that you're really not that good at it. It's perfectly okay to say that you hate yourself, your life and for everyone to keep telling you what you can and cannot do. But never cheat yourself of living a full life. A meaningful life, a truthful life. We suck, and it's okay. The best will accept the worst of you anyway, and the worst won't blink at your best.

Dealing with Singlehood

Late 20s, possibly early 30s. Facebook serves you ads of wedding dresses, baby clothing. To add insult to injury, your aquaintances are all getting engaged, even married. Some have little ones on the way.

And you feel absolutely no joy because you feel like an absolute failure. No matter if you're doing well at work, they will never see you as a whole person until you become married.

Academics call this stigmatisation, and alienation - the process of which you're constantly reminded that there's something wrong with you, and you do not belong no matter how much you tried. We may wax lyrical about the so-called phenomenon, but it gives us knowledge but not comfort in how we should respond or feel, or even act about this forever-alone 9gag feeling.

So I've decided to deploy tactics (thanks de Certeau) to navigate these waters. Lest of making a mountain out of a molehill, there are very real biopolitical powers of singlehood (look up Foucault guys) that makes us see through a very specific set of lens. It is power by perspective and like the Michael Jackson song says, "if you want to change the world, just look into the mirror".

The solution was in pop culture all along.

1. You can't win them all
I've often felt like an immense loser for not having a partner. And no matter how often my friends assure me that there's absolutely nothing wrong with me, this aching sense of rejection never goes away.

It came from the fact that we never really "lost" in life. We win in studies, in our achievements and have been told that wr punch above our weight. However we have never really faced rejection openly. We sweep it under the rug when we've lost, quickly overwritten by other successes.

That sentiment makes us extremely prone to divide people into those haves and have-nots. Yet, life is extremely complex. We all win and lose in many places. We need to stop focusing on the zit and start realising that the rest of us are as beautiful. We cannot win them all, if we could, we'd be angels.

2. Acute sense of skepticism
I must first make a distinction between cynicism and skepticism. A cynic is as bad as a blind faith believer, where any evidence to the contrary will not shift his or her position of belief. Skeptics hold assumptions in question as prima facie, assess the facts before making a call on the conclusion.

So ultimately with Facebook, we think we know everything about other people's lives, when in fact we know very little. Who the hell airs dirty laundry anyway, who dares to explicate their extra-marital affairs. Who would confess they are lonely in their marriages? Who says they feel caught?

We are so fixated in the moment of happiness on our newsfeeds, we forget that all relationships take immense effort and are forged through pain. Buddhism has a very interesting view about this. Romantic love is shared pain, compassion - "co-passion" - and passion taken from the latin word of suffering. In a very cynic fashion, romantic love is about suffering together.

No wonder people feel compelled to publicise happy moments from time to time. Do we feel lousy as singles because we suffer alone instead of together? If so, imagine having to also carry someone else's burden. Hard work guys, it's not all roses. I applaud every couple's determination, y'all deserve it.

Having said, divorce is one the rise. You know, with instant gratification on the rise, I reckon we are less willing to pull through for the long term. Just saying.

3. Rant about it
This is truly a personal preference. It stems from honesty. I have a direct response to shit - admit it, deal with it, move on.

Ranting achieves 2 purpose, it helps to get it out of our system, and it's also a brainstorming session. We throw shit out and sometimes in a rare moment of genius, say a great idea to try. Ranting also brings up fears, and fear, as the BBC series Sherlock mentioned, "is wisdom during the time of danger."

We are inherently notafraid of not being able to find someone in the long term. That's uncertainty. The fear stems from our inability to carr for ourselves when we are older. For ladies, your partners will most likely not outlive you, so it's really no difference if you want someone to take care of you in your golden years. Children? There's no guarantee they'll return, after all people are so mobile these days. The fear stems from within, we imagine monsters from our bed. We should instead trust that we will have the ability to cope when we're older.

So rant on, and in the mean time, let's also introspectively examine and deal with our fears.

Ultimately we are human, we have all kinds of needs - sociological or biological. Being single is not a handicap, neither is being attached some sort of heralded status.  It just happens or does not happen. People may love each other for a long time and never be together, or hate each other immensely when they lay side by side at night. This veneer of perfection is an illusion, and I personally know a handful of happy couples. Like excellence, it lays on a normal distribution curve with the vast average leading very average problems. Only very very few live the happy ever afters.

A sharp reminder to myself to not fantasize or rom romanticise relationships. I'd rather be a statisically rare single, than be in an average couplehood. I know I'll dream better in the former anyway - 夜长梦多.