But those rebellious teenage years of discovering my identity were slowly lost as adulthood loomed. I had grown up to reconcile with my mum, at my dad's insistence since I should behave maturely by now, and slowly begun to accept once again who I was. The process however, was not easy. My consciousness has developed into one that tried to suppress the things I hated about my mum, and the constant reminder by my dad that I was more like her than him. He could even trace parallels between both our lives, and I would try very hard to break away from it.

Being here in Australia with Lee, brings more of those rebelliousness and bad memories back. I don't want to go through the same things she faced when she moved to Malaysia to marry my dad. The 12-year wait for a Permanent Residency before she could work, the belittling and humiliation because she couldn't speak English properly, the hard adjustment with spicy Malaysian food, the homesickness, the frustration of not being able to be assist the family financially, the endless arguments over the lack of money... The list seems endless, and nightmarish to me because it continues up to even today.

I realise there are some conscious differences between the two of us. But having those things repeat itself when I know can break away from it feels like its tearing me apart, somewhat. It doesn't help that my dad recently said to me that if he had a choice to turn back the clock, he wouldn't do it again. It is hard... very hard to go through uprooting, losing your self-confidence and rebuilding it all over again. And also reconciling both cultures while communicating or when you have children later. But people do it, have done it, and I think probably more so today than before.

It's just what I will want to decide for my happiness from now on. But this is my baggage.