Acceptance

Anyone who knows me well enough knows that I’ve wanted to do an MBA since forever. I knew it since I was still studying in college, and that was a full 10 years ago. I experimented with different alternative pathways, but there was always this burning desire to actually do an MBA instead of learning from other sources. I bought a set of GMAT books in 2017, but year by year, this dream kept on getting delayed. By the time I turned 30 last year, I thought I’d never make it. I simply thought I was too old, too poor, too sick and too set on my career to do this.

So I want you to know that a few days ago, I received my equivalent of a Hogwarts letter:

Boston-bound for the 3rd time!

I thought I’d cry when I first read that big “YES”, but what happened was I calmly went to the bathroom, took a wudu’, put my head on the floor and thanked Allah. There was this peace inside of me when I let my prayer out. The first sentence was a wish that this success does not make me an arrogant person. The second sentence was a wish that I could be of use to more people. The third sentence was not an ask, rather, an acknowledgment… of all the acceptances prior to this that led me to it.

Enter:

Act I: The One

I have a disease that requires a frequent trip to doctors, and every single one of them said that I should have kids ASAP to cure it – unless I didn’t want children, in that case I could do a hysterectomy to get rid of it once and for all. My confused, too-successful-for-the-average-Indonesian-Muslim-men-or-too-Islami-for-someone-from-other-countries-27 year-old-self #IYKYK was always a failure in the dating space. With all the advances that women make in terms of equality, it was sad to see the reality that few men embraced it (at least in this country). I avoided home at all cost; it was safer to stay away from the hurtful remarks of families and lived in my own bubble where I—unfortunately— spiraled into a depression that prompted me to search for ways to kill myself.

I truly let go of any marriage prospect when COVID-19 came. Like truly, truly let go. I overdosed on painkillers whenever the menstruation was too unbearable, but I mostly just accepted the fact that I might never marry anyone in my whole life.

I somehow met my husband afterwards. This person turned to be my biggest supporter to go for an MBA. Had he not convinced me to take a shot at this on the eve of my 30th birthday, I might have never been at this point in my life. I will forever be thankful for his reassurance, his moral support, and his belief in me- even when I didn’t believe in myself.

Our Weekend GRE/Essay Sessions, 10 AM to 6 PM

Act II: Money

I spend the majority of my monthly income for my family. I tell you, being a sandwich generation kid is an inflicted pain. There are always things that I need to be responsible for: countless doctor’s visits, labs, inpatients, medicines, my brother’s 6-year-long residency, food, restaurants, THRs, even extended family’s needs. There are too many things on my shoulder that, at one point, I stopped counting things out and cried.

Why can’t I be like other people? Why do I need to bear this cross? Why can’t I JUST THINK ABOUT MYSELF and ENJOY MY OWN HARD-EARNED MONEY?

There was a moment, close to the time when I met my husband, that I finally let go. Look at the bright side, I thought. I could go abroad so many times without even breaking the bank, because it was always paid by the company/conferences. I got Awards and Bonuses of monetary value. I kept getting raises when others didn’t. I was always self-sufficient somehow, never needed to pay minimum for credit card bills, never had to use PayLaters/loans, never starved myself. I didn’t have to pretend to have lifestyles I couldn’t afford. I had great co-workers who went to humble canteen for lunch, although I knew their incomes were $$$. The past 3 years, I could work in Bandung while having Jakarta’s salary. My wedding expenses were much less than the usual budget thanks to COVID-19 restrictions. I could still live a good life.

I accepted that my income was Allah’s kindness to my family that He trusted through me, so it was never mine in the first place. It made the regular expenses more bearable. Oh and I also got a full scholarship for my MBA, so that helps 🙂

Act III: The Disease

The disease haunted my life. At least 10-15% of my life is robbed by excruciating pain. I tried many things: anti-hormone injections, surgery, food restrictions, acupuncture. Until now I haven’t got rid of it. Doctors told me that I had a “very slim” chance of conceiving naturally. I hesitated to go for an MBA because I thought that I should have kids now before I became biologically worse year by year, but somehow that plan didn’t materialize.

There was a time when I prayed to be shown the right way. I explored many alternatives while had this disease on the back of my mind when weighing the possibilities. It turned into a promotion that didn’t happen, three attempts of moving to Dubai, a bubble assignment that didn’t continue into a lateral move, and lastly, the attempt to conceive that didn’t show any results. I was too afraid to delay yet another 2 years to have an offspring.

But now I’ve accepted that an MBA will not deter me from having kids at the right time. Going for an MBA makes me happy, living abroad with limited budget motivates me to cook more healthy food, so this will hopefully contribute to whatever plan that Allah has for my (future offspring, dare I say?).

***

I once learned in a meditation camp that the key to happiness is to accept whatever comes into your life. Accepting the duality of things: light and dark, life and death, happiness and sadness. Accepting the fleeting moments of being a Being, that we are impermanent, that nothing stays forever. I always thought that all these things were bullshit, but I’ve made some acceptances, and it led me to a better place in my life. Mentally, physically, financially. I really don’t know what the future holds, but what I do know is that I get this opportunity at the right time for me, and I will try to make the best out of it.

Life accepted me when I accepted it, wholeheartedly.

Beyond Repair

It is one week before three years.

The last time I ever felt that deep, soothing, embarrassing, red feeling of non-quantifiable warmth seeping, like from afar, yet it inhumed every doubt I ever had in the past 548 days before. It was extremely delicate and light that seemed too perfect to be readily available by my very eyes. I thought that perhaps, the odds were finally in my favor… but what was ethereal, I learned, should be treated cautiously. If it was surreal, it was probably never real.

Of course it wouldn’t end in an Eden filled with blooming flowers and colorful leaves. Of course it was doomed. Of course someone ate the forbidden fruit.

Of course I was wrong.

Grief that was carefully concealed, moved to the land of possibilities. The entire performance was imbued with sparkle and elan, until finally someone needed a fresh air to breath. To think. To realize that the malefic seed was gnawing every last drop of confidence that was seriously crafted.

You can put faces outside, soaked in a beautiful blue lagoon, sip the finest cocktails, enjoy the most luxurious box of chocolates. But the hollow, the cavity, that concave little hole of shit, is not to be treated with a drugstore receipt. A profound understanding of why and how it happened, the consequences, the possible treatment, the alternatives, are to be considered in a well, thoughtful manner.

You could be ruined beyond repair.

Until the point that what was once nifty piece of work seems to be dull and outdated. The idea is obsolete. The people are assholes. And everything associated with this beautiful grace is in no way more than cock-and-bull story. It was magical, it is still supposed to be magical, but your senses are telling you that it is all unreal.

Roots of bitterness clasp you hard enough to break your conviction. That at the end of the day, the world is nourishing human loneliness. Just what is the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all in the pilgrimage of soul-searching, tumbled across roses filled with thorns.

Someone will be at the end of this tunnel, waiting to restore the belief that is lost, to show another person that love and compassion are still alive, and very much relevant. Everyone else is enjoying this sweet delicacy — it is not a privilege.

It truly should not be a privilege. It’s supposed to be a basic human right that is not too difficult to access.

Only wish for one thing: no more pyrrhic tales. Please. Make real-life halcyon days a reality.

Rest well, lovely souls. If I can, I will put you in my prayers. Good night.

What I’ve Learned From Being Single

It’s my 16^th month of being single and I’ve just finished reading a novel titled “How To Be Single”, so it’s easy to imagine where I might have drawn the inspiration of this post from. But really, I think I’ve had these thoughts fleeting in my mind for a couple of months now, after I’ve recovered from all the bad dramas of a broken relationship and endless, sleepless nights where tears stained my pillows almost permanently every night.

After all the crazy break ups with the people I could picture a life with, you would think that I would go crazy and believe that all this hype of love and being loved is just a pure lie, or more accurately, a freaking bullshit.

 

Well, I did think about it that way.

 

But then I changed my mind.

 

So here are some of my thoughts on what I’ve learned from being single:

 

1. You are not entitled to have the obligation to live your life alone

 

A girl can dream. And one of her biggest dream is to have someone who loves her and who stays by her side in going through this whirlwind of life’s mischief, together. Yes, it’s cheesy. Yes, it takes a shamanic magic to make that come true – what with all the beautiful girls out there that our possible prince charming could choose – but it’s a pathetic idea to live a life alone. REALLY. So even though my heart is broken, and my former man has flown away with his own choice to leave me, and my soul is writhing by picturing another possible failed dates, I promise myself that I will love again, and someone will love me back, again. How will that happen? I don’t know. I guess it’s time to believe in miracles.

 

2. How will that happen? Treat your love life as seriously as you would treat your professional life

 

Because things are simply getting a bit serious.

I think that at some points, it just dawns on you that you need to settle down. Especially in this Indonesian (or Asian) culture in general, it’s hard to dodge the sad, earth-shattering fact that women are STILL treated differently when they are unmarried. No matter how successful you are in your career, no matter how financially stable, full of achievements, gorgeous looking, I-have-it-all you are, this sick society is still going to pity you. That’s the word. But they don’t do so to men, not as often and as intense.

(And they’re going to suddenly do awkward things to hide their judgments when you tell them you’re single, but your instinct works, thank you very much)

I don’t want to be pitied for the rest of my life, so I at least have made a plan. When I’ve reached a point where my professional life is stable enough, which means I have a satisfying job with at least a clear career development plan for the next five years and it pays all my bills and my needs, I will hunt for a man. No kidding. Hunt for a man. I will be in charge of my own happiness and be a high achiever in my love life as well. I will improve my appearances, search everywhere, ask my friends to set me up on dates, enlarge my circle of acquaintances, do religious rituals, and I even think of online dating. I’m not pathetic, I’m just increasing the odds of getting married and having children and being free to soar high in my own professional life without “being feared by men who are attracted to you”, and finally letting the society shut up. It’s a goddamn free country and I’m allowed to make a personal project.

 

Well, not now, but not too far from now. Maybe in less than five years.

 

3. Even so, you still deserve someone who loves you back the way you want them to

 

That’s why I find it odd that some of my girl friends are still in a relationship where they are constantly hurting. What’s the point of being in a relationship where there is a constant need to explain yourself over and over again to someone who just don’t understand? What I learned from all of my failed romances, if I can learn anything, is that communication is key. Be brave and tell them you’re disappointed, angry, and unsatisfied. Explain the logic behind your statements. The wrong ones will shrug it off and tell that you’ve been overthinking it or you’re being too pushy but if they really love you, they are going to compromise for the better. Especially if it’s about fundamental concerns. If they aren’t, you may be settling for less than what you deserve.

Don’t expect men to understand or read between the lines. It never happens.

 

4. Do not, do not, take your partner for granted

 

When I was in a relationship, a partner’s presence was appreciated, expected, and then taken for granted. But when I’m single, it’s just I’ve been reminded of how convenient it was to have someone ready to hear all your stories, offer consolation and assurance that everything’s gonna be okay, and simply be there to give emotional support. Sometimes, we’ve got so used to having someone spare their time, money, and energy to be with us. We complain about the inability to go to some fancy cafes, the long distance, the “very rare phone calls this week!”, less gifts and romantic gestures. Finally, when your partner has flown away to spend 2 days with you, thousand of kilometers away from their workplace, and you complain about not being able to spend the whole week of his days off together, think again.

Think of how sometimes, your partner is underappreciated. When you’re single, this is something you’re going to miss.

Picture’s taken from here 

5. And finally, as they say, miracles happen every day

 

I recall that I could be in a relationship with a new, exciting guy, always at the time when I felt content with myself.

I have always been a desperate romantic, and my everyday state is being mildly desperate about my lousy love life. But there have been times when I got so desperate I even went on being depressed. Then I realized that no one, no one in this world would love me if I hadn’t been able to love myself. So I did, and I am still trying to. Because people are drawn to somebody who is enjoying what life has to offer. Somebody who is happy, and has a positive outlook on life. Someone like this evokes a radiant, irresistible glow, and who doesn’t want to be with someone like that?

I think I’m perfectly okay and qualified to meet the one. It’s just that for now, I haven’t been finished with my own life, and somehow that has created a barrier to let someone else’s life mixes in with mine. Perhaps I need to let go of my fears, and my unhappiness, and my constant worry and negativity. Only then can I let someone get into this hidden shell.

 

Only then can I let myself find the love I’ve always dreamed of.

Cruising The Altitude

Airports fascinate me in a lot of unspoken ways. The feeling of watching airplanes taking off beside the thick wide glass of boarding room almost always make my heart jolts with excitement. There is a certain atmosphere that airports bring — they are home to some of the most sincere goodbyes, spectator of willingness to release someone dear into the unknown skies, and a theater of honest kisses blown to the air. Airports are about departure and arrival, the fast-paced shoes of businesspeople and the joy of a loving child. The beautiful mix of feelings in one single space. Much like the real life. 

Image’s taken from here

For me, airports resemble more than just a transportation facility where people come and go. As someone who was not raised in a particularly wealthy family, hopping to an airplane was indeed a luxury. During my childhood, I had to spend so much time going through road trips to get somewhere. I always asked my mom if our family could try travelling by airplane, but I knew she would say it was too expensive for all of us. Like every other luxury my family couldn’t afford, at that time I could hear mom’s voice resonating,

“Believe me, my child, your brain will take you anywhere you wish”

You know what?

She was right. 

The first time I boarded a plane was in January 2011, going to Eastern part of Indonesia for a national varsity debating championship. I still remember that feeling of excitement mixed with I-think-I’m-gonna-puke inside a not-so-good airplane of the first flight in the morning. Kinda like being in a roller coaster while taking off, my heart was swelling with oh-my-gosh that I tried to hide from friends.

Ever since then, airplanes continued to take me into some of the best moments of my life. I could picture that clearly, vividly, the memory that goes up to the surface every time I see an Etihad plane parking on Terminal 2 of CGK airport. 4 pm flight to Abu Dhabi, that would carry my New York City dreams up to the air, my very first overseas flight, 32 hours in total.

Still one of my favorite airlines. Delicious and halal meals, friendly stewardess, smooth landing. My very first overseas trip.  Image Source: here

I never boarded Etihad since then, but it remains one of my favorite airline. I remember the friendly stewardess greeted me, I was having cough, and she attentively offered me another cup of hot drink. We met again on the way when I was going to the toilet, and chatted on how people were not easily pleased even by various choices of menu available. I told her that people were always unsatisfied like that, and we laughed together 😀

It’s funny how you can associate a certain part of your life just by looking at an airplane.  

I was rushing on catching a Garuda Indonesia flight when my eyes caught a glimpse of a Cathay Pacific being parked. As melancholic as I always am, the laughter of my mapres friends came to my ear like a jingle. Jakarta – Hong Kong – Nagoya. Then another flight back from Tokyo. The gleaming lights, the busy streets, the bullet trains, stranded on the super clean streets at 2 am after missing our last bus back to the hotel. Our Toyohashi friends, mixed with streams of Kit Kat Green Tea supplies…

You will always bring me back to the days in Japan 🙂

Soekarno-Hatta International Airport is home to some of my most memorable departures and arrivals.

The fight with my ex-boyfriend before I boarded a Singapore Airlines flight to Manila. Two girls giggling with their extra-heavy luggages on Airport Transit Hotel, woke up super early while catching the first flight to Singapore that would take Team Indonesia to the city of Hanoi. Four nista youngsters boarding the cheapest AirAsia flight we could find from Jakarta to Bangkok. Every time I come to CGK, I can still picture the places precisely, every corner hides another story that I could recall from the back of my head.

My Manila, my Singapore, my Hanoi… wrapped up in one single glimpse of this carrier.

My Bangkok, now my Pekanbaru – Bandung best friend

From a homey kid who never boarded any plane since age zero, I turned into a frequent flyer with various destinations to go.

Times change and airplanes change. People morph over time — leaving their loved ones while pursuing their own dreams. I’ve moved from Bandung to Duri, where my limited stay at home makes the journey even more meaningful. What used to be rare international flights have changed to frequent domestic flights to hold the ones close to the heart. Garuda Indonesia and AirAsia have helped me in transporting to the people I care about the most, the people I would not trade for any gems.

My Surabaya business trips and my trip back home.

 

Airplanes have witnessed my struggle of getting to be where I never thought I could be. My proud parents who could never make me go to another country by their own money. The altitude combines some of fondest memories, best friends, and most exciting journey into the take offs and landings that I will always be excited for.

 

Here’s hoping for more life stories through the air! 🙂

 

 

“Find Your Nest Before You Fly”, Disencouragement, and Other Dilemmas

In my 2^nd year of elementary school, I punched a boy in front of his mother because he mocked me. When I was criticized of my behavior as “not appropriate for girls”, my 8-year old’s words were clear and sharp:

“Emang kenapa kalau aku cewek?”
(“So what if I’m a girl?”)

To think about it, gender issues have always been something I constantly yearn to learn more and be aware of. As a little kid, I grew up alongside my twin brother. We competed hard ever since the square one. I’ve never felt that I should fall short behind him. I could be as good in school as any other boy could be. But as early as in my adolescence, I started to bombard mom with (the inevitable) question of balancing work and family. Recalling the 17 y.o. me, studying for college entrance test:

“Mom, suppose I can get into that top engineering school and be a CEO… (At that time, a woman just became National Oil Company’s CEO for the 1^st time in history). How can I be a good mother while working around the clock?”

My family didn’t know the concept of female corporate mothers. All mothers resigned when they entered the having-kids stage, including mine, who was once top-performer in a shoes factory. When asked why she gave it up,

“I couldn’t stand having to silently took a bath in the morning so you and your twin would not wake up, scream, and beg me not to go. I wanted to see you two grow up in my own hands. Every day I came from work, exhausted, and asked myself why do I have to do this? While you were sleeping, I looked at your little faces and decided it was not worth it. So I quitted”

 

I was petrified by her predictable choice.

 

I had always known where I wanted to go. My destination was always clear. Top schools. Best scores. Highest achievement. It’s been hard-wired in my mind to be the competitive, type-A personality that I’ve become getting used to. As a kid, teenager, and college student, it didn’t matter. It was good. Until one day, my grandmother came up to me months before graduation,

“Don’t you think of searching for potential husbands? You’re surely a great young woman, but men are scared of you and your achievements. Don’t you think it’s time to slow down and get your friends match you up with someone? Find your nest before you fly, so you can always have a place to go back later on”

At that time, I was the university’s Valedictorian, had two unsuccessful romantic relationships, and a dozen “barely there” love stories with various men, one of whom said to a friend,

“She’s pretty and interesting. But it seems she’s just too smart for me?”

I gave up on finding any men worth dating. The lowest hope was Summer 2013, just in time when I met my last boyfriend. He was very supportive of whatever things I wanted to choose for my future, before the relationship crumbled because of some superstitious predictions by his conservative family.

“Will cause a disintegration. Will not be good for him. Their future may not be good enough.”

With God’s grace, translates clearly into

“She’s too smart, successful, beautiful, dominant, and have such strong power to overshine our man. Forget her. Find another woman who is modest enough to be your bride. This woman is going to cook for you, have babies with you, and would not burden your life”

(Because, hey, no other reasons speak louder than that)

 

Which moves me into these questions:

1. Why, are we women encouraged to reach high during our school years, if the end product will not be appreciated for any of her “superiority”? Why are “successful” women being socially punished?
2. How do we, as high-achieving young women, find a spouse who would be supportive of our plans for the future, who would not be overwhelmed by our personal success, whose ego wouldn’t be “hurt”, and who would treat us as equal partners?

 

The “Having It All”

The mixture of being socially punished and too-late realization of self-worth creates this halo that errodes women’s confidence. The external pressure fractures our strongly-built bricks of pride in our own achievements. It’s sad to be the one who is trapped between the constantly escalating, incoherent expectations. Men never have to regret being who they are.

I’m now working as a Site Manager in a multinational oil and gas company. Now how’s that sound? For me, let’s be realistic:

• It heavily minimizes the possibility of being paired with a man who earns less than me, and not working in Oil&Gas/any comparable industry as well. Even if we’re compatible, the families would squeak. The woman’s would encourage to find another man who “can balance you out” and “We believe there’s better men out there”. The man, unless he also comes from a wealthy or super tolerable family, would not completely be delighted.
• Unless for some lucky exceptions to the rule (which actually happens, once in a while), the man would not want to see her woman getting herself dirty in a drilling mud with old guys as her rig crew. Trust me.

Eventually, the pressure goes on into the woman’s internal considerations. I’ve heard myself asking, and doubting:

1. Why this heavily male-dominated industry? Why not a bright career in a big city, with malls just steps away and I can wear beautiful dresses and put on fancy make ups? “Because that’s what’s a woman’s supposed to do?”
2. Do I really want to be the corporate leader, ah, do I have to be? Isn’t it enough just to be a regular worker, stuck in a non-existing career ladder….?
3. I want kids, and I’m afraid they are not going to grow up as good as I expect them to be. When is the time to slow down? I know I’m ready to compromise if that’s what it takes, slow down my career for my gorgeous little precious, but when?
4. When is the right time to get married? If I get married, can I continue working? Do I really want working, at all, after marriage? Being a housewife doesn’t seem to be a bad idea, either. I know a lot of women who are happy with that, and I’m happy for them too.
5. Now, where do I find a man to get married with? I’m afraid of being single for the rest of my life. I’ve seen too many older women who haven’t been married, who are successful, who are lovely to be with. And I’m too afraid of how this society will perceive me if I am unmarried.

 

You may think I’m desperate by writing this.

I am, and I’m not afraid to admit that.

Because it’s too hard to be a woman in this 21^st century, where you are expected to be too damn perfect in every aspect of your life. Those who have found her nest before she flies are so lucky, you should be grateful to have someone who wants to be your real partner. Those who can craft out their career plans clearly without having any doubt, ought to be thankful for their courage, because that’s what I’m lacking of right now. Those who cannot stop dreaming and reaching high because they are not afraid, are great, and I wish I could have that positivity.

But I’m inclined on the side that says this is not just me making up stories. These are real women’s issues that may have crossed their minds once in a while. I try hard to avoid saying this, but then again, we are just women. We want to be cared, loved, appreciated, and be heard for our own aspirations. We want to be free and be content with who we are.

Why, why is that too much to ask………..

Où je vis en ce moment…

Je vis dans ‘une jungle’ maintenant! 🙂

Quite a few people have been curious as to where I go after the emotional breakdown of losing my cotton candy dream of working in The Netherlands. I mean, come on, it’s not that I earn it in a night with no blood sweat and tears!

But let’s save the rant for now…

Here I am, in the vast jungle of Sumatera Island! Back to the roots, although my Palembangnese is almost always eclipsed by my Sundanese tongue. People have mixed comments on this path I am walking in, from “Ooo it’s a great downturn…” to “Oh that’s super cool!”, but I say, F that! Nobody knows how HARD it is to be on your own, picking up shattered pieces while moving along, clinging only to Divine Intervention, being totally helpless WHEN EVEN YOUR PLAN F did not work. To realize that God gives me the exit way in the field I am still interested in, through a job in which I can support my family financially, be close to some of my best girls, is something I am really, really grateful for.

To be precise, I’m now living in Duri. Never heard of it? I know. It’s a town in Riau province, rather center part of Sumatera Island. It’s home to oilfield workers who mostly support Uncle Chev’s operations, where I work.

I live in a camp. And when I say ‘camp’, that does not mean hammocks and fire cracks, mind you.

It’s like a satellite city, in my opinion! 😀

Thank God my room is comfortable with easy access to bus stop and inside bathroom. I always, always, always believe in the strength of my mom’s prayers. God knows that no one can beat the time it takes for me to shower!!

Pardon my unmatched pillow/bolster case :p

View from my room

Although it’s not really accessible (the nearest major city with airport, Pekanbaru, is around 3 hours drive from here), it decently provides all the basic needs, notably Hypermart! The camp also has Commissary which sells imported products (think Hershey’s, Kölln, Ortega…), and the ultimate Warung Masjid Agung Ushuluddin or WMAU, which sells everything from tennis racket to olive oil to swimsuit. It also has this small market that sells vegetables, meat, and spices in the mornings.

(Yes, I was once a supply chain girl, I do store checks :p)

So far this remote town is livable, the only thing missing is the HORRIBLE transportation: no taxi in camp (I’m pointing at you, Lean Sigma) and very limited bus schedule, be it from housing complex to dining hall or offices. I’m thinking of bringing a car from home once I have enough driving skills…

Some people are asking, “What do you do on weekends?”. Well, I admit that a small town does not exactly boast pretentious lifestyle, given the limited option of go-to places. But there are a lot of activities: jogging, swimming, sh’bam (zumba-style movements), being committee for local events…

Morning walk in a REAL jungle!

In the last two weekends, I’ve been cooking with some of my friends here. I was SUPER SCARED of cooking when I was still in high school / university, but it changed when I had to live alone working in Jakarta last year. I wasn’t even sure of my cooking ability but I managed to cook tasty Chinese food, fruit punch, chocolate muffin, etc. Now the skill’s revived again! 😀

The Drilling & Completion girls with their proudly made dishes. We made Nasi Liwet, Indonesian-style fried chicken, tempe, tahu, red spinach, and sambal! 😀

 

On the work itself?

More than a dozen people have expressed their disagreement on me working in the field or even in an oil company. They say that I’d better go to consulting. I know, I know, but…

I don’t have >3.5 cGPA, end of story.

I’ll keep the reasons (of choosing oil & gas career) personal, won’t spill the details here. I won’t say that I really enjoy working in the field, in fact, it takes a lot of guts and strengthened motivation and constant reminder of “I’m working for the things, the plans, the people bigger and greater than myself”. Being educated as a chemical/process engineer, petroleum engineering is surprisingly not that complicated. IMHO, it’s very practical, the hardest thing is to imagine the operations that happen thousands of feet underground. And to memorize all these new terms and tools, which is a lot!

My first field visit. To…. Bangko and Balam. Hundreds of kilometres away from Duri.

Another challenging thing is human interaction. I’ve taken the E-Color test resulting in Green/Blue, a systematically sensitive person who loves planning, paying attention to details, and rather dislikes sudden changes/surprises. Not exactly in line with the dynamics of field operation and managing significantly older, more experienced blue collar workers… as I’m not that “tough” when dealing with people. I think I need to adjust that. Being a woman itself has been a challenge — seen as weaker and not as capable as men, especially here — now I have to also increase my pace and be this unbeatable manager on the field. I know it’s not easy so please do pray for me!!

 

Hello from the rig!

 

What’s next?

Everybody knows that I’m a die-hard planner. I want everything to be managed smoothly and predictably, but at this point of time, it’s so hard to know exactly what will happen next. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from the drama of 2014, it’s accepting the fact that change is the only constant. I did surrender to total uncertainty back then when I chose NL, and it turned out to be negative. So what I do now is keep on making more and more back up plans. It’s crazy, but I don’t know what else I can do with so many things sprawling and sprouting.

And don’t ask me anything about marriage, please. I’m this single girl who has just broken up 3 months ago because of illogical, primordial reason that I still don’t understand. Urgh. 

So, for now, au revoir! 🙂

p.s. I’m keen on improving my French, any recommended books to learn?

I Want To Explore With You

Spoil me with words that only lovers can say. Greet me good morning to assure that you’re safe and sound. Let me imagine the days and nights that you have to go through, so I can get a picture of how to be on your feet. I want to know how it feels to be you so I’ll know how to treat you well. Let me be the one who makes your day brighter, because I want to explore with you.

Count the days till you’re finally done with work. Cherish the time when both of us know that meeting someone in person is always better than just having phone calls. Turn on the video while we’re waiting for that day to come, exchange pictures of our habitats, and keep on updating each other, because only then do two hearts feel that loneliness may just be a myth. Make me feel the breeze of sea and let me guess the turbidity of a swamp. I’ll make you feel this chilly weather and pouring rain, because I want to explore with you.

Let us glide away on soapy hills. Face the uncertainty, and fight for what we think we deserve. Let us be the people we want to see, and let those personas break the already built walls. Tell me your fears and I’ll tell mine, but move cautiously through the closing doors, knowing that enough is never essentially enough. Understand that our paths may cross, but be prepared to defend the values we both hold so dear, because I want to explore with you.

Come ride on trains with me. Revisiting the past is a key to have a full understanding of the present. I want to know why and how you become the person I know, and I want you to understand why and how I’ve become the person you adore. Dissolve me into the people you knew, because then I can expect to be the person they think will be the best for you. Be a person so great that I can brag about, and you’ll see why I turn out to be competitive. Maybe I’m a fast train going on a mountain, but fear not, because I want to explore with you.

We drop the words on chatting lines, or you versus me in a night. Maybe you and I say things we shouldn’t say and we continue to fight. If no one surrenders then we’ll not be satisfied. Don’t let the mist cloud our judgment, so please be rational. Know that when words don’t come out as it should, it’s not the time to leave. I will miss you, and you will miss me too. Don’t leave if you just want to leave, because I want to explore with you.

Do good deeds and throw away a decent celebration, before this grace gets too far and too hard to swallow. But don’t do so before I settled myself well and had the time of my own life. I will notify if my heart can follow yours, as I am a firm believer of age that breeds wisdom. I want a passion that plays before anything is taken into being institutionalized. Maybe we still need to figure things out and be true to ourselves, but either way, we’ll find the perfect time for a perfect match, because I want to explore with you.

I want to wear the colour I cherish when I feel like myself. I want to wear a smile that shines better than you could ever tell. You should not shiver on your sneakers if you treat me well, as I shouldn’t be the one who’s been unwell. I may or may not return to you, but if I can be myself without a thought of change, then at that very moment of day, you’ll understand that I want to explore with you. 

Senyap

Beri aku waktu untuk menjalani transformasi ini.

Karena hanya untuk sekali, aku ingin merasakan kebebasan yang sesungguhnya. Izinkan aku untuk berpikir, untuk mencerna, dan mengetahui apa yang ku inginkan. Tidak pernah ada waktu yang cukup untuk berkontemplasi dan memaknai tujuan yang kabur. Tidak ada kesempatan untuk melihat lebih jauh ke dalam. Selalu ada paksaan untuk mengekstrapolasi, tapi jika permintaan masih bisa diterima, berikanlah satu hal yang paling kuinginkan saat ini.

Mungkin aku hanya ingin lari dari semua ekspektasi yang harus selalu aku penuhi. Mungkin aku hanya ingin menemukan kebahagiaanku sendiri.

Karena itu, enyahlah, tolonglah.

Aku tidak minta dikasihani, aku tidak minta dipuji, aku juga tidak minta disakiti.

Aku hanya butuh waktu untuk diriku sendiri. Mungkin sekarang, mungkin nanti, mungkin kapan-kapan. Matikan lampu. Matikan musik. Matikan suara apa pun karena aku tidak ingin mendengarkan. Lapurkan pandangan secanggih mukjizat karena aku tidak butuh pertimbangan. Sesungguhnya aku tidak butuh kata-kata atau pemikiran yang lantang disuarakan…

karena yang ku butuhkan hanya senyap.

The Love I Deserve

It’s not easy to be me.

Especially when it comes to love.

I’ve had my fair share of bad memories of loving someone and risking my heart in investments that, from the very first start, I believed would not give the expected return. I should’ve just seen things clearly from the beginnings, but I always tell myself that it can still happen. As what I’ve written several times, I always cling to the tiniest little glimmers of hope, most surreal eye contacts, and the most insignificant gestures. I’ve fallen in and out of love too many times it almost feels like a bad habit that I should break. I questioned myself in between seconds of desperation, about what was so wrong in me that kept on attracting the, well.. the wrong ones.

Even so, I’ve always believed that the person who loves me for who I am will come eventually.

But there came a time in my life when I felt almost completely numb about loving and being loved by someone. At one point, I started thinking that maybe, just maybe, I should just stop romanticizing anything anymore. From the start, I erased all expectations. Have I gone bitter? I guess I have. I only asked for those people to stay, not so much of a request, but what did I get? Another series of treacherous acts.

I’ve never 100% believed in the notion of ‘love of your life’. After all, the very concept of ‘love of your life’, ‘your half’, and ‘your significant other’ was cruel from the start. Should someone not be happy if he or she is living in their stage of singlehood? Why is society dictating us to have this… this concept of being complete only when you’ve found someone who completes you? What if I do feel completely complete by being with myself?

That very realization shaped me into the person of whom I know perfectly well, someone who has been recreated and furnished by each and every unfortunate events. I fell in love with myself. With its good side and bad side. I embraced the qualities that were hand-crafted, made only for me, made only by me. I focused my efforts into having the best version of myself. I never did focus on anyone else anymore.

But what I didn’t realize was that, through that way, through this nonchalant way, I actually found someone whom I can love, and who loves me back. 

——————————————————————————————————————————

This morning I woke up with a silly realization that, “Hey, I’m someone’s girlfriend!”. Even typing it makes it sound more silly. But what struck me in awe was not the fact that I’m no longer lonely, nor the fact that I have passport to social security. It was the feeling that this love feels different from any other love I’ve had. It’s sheer and sweet, not overpowering, not intoxicating. It doesn’t feel like an urge to text someone now and then, or a crave for overdose attention, or that ho-ho, “Life’s a bitch and then you die!”. It feels almost as homey as a freshly baked bread in an ancient bakery shop. Or maybe, it just feels like it’s the love I earned.

That this is the love that I deserve.

If you want to know how I do feel right now, I’ll tell you what, I feel very proud of myself.

It’s like every cell on my entity celebrates the bloodshed dramas that finally fruit. I once made a list of characteristics that I was looking for in a man, with a tear-jerker, “Haha this hypothetical person is too good to be true!”. But now I look at the person who confessed to me hours ago and realized that sometimes, life is so funny by giving you exactly the person you want. Was I blinded by anything these past few years? No. I don’t think so. I think that heartbreaks after heartbreaks bring you closer to the one who will save the best for last. And honestly, I didn’t see this one coming.

I only did see that because I was transforming from a ‘girl’ to a ‘woman’, that I was finally be able to find a ‘man’, not a ‘boy’.

After all, boys shack. Men build homes. If he loves you, he will profess it, he will provide for you, and he will protect you.
-Steve Harvey

Honestly though, it feels natural, all this loving, giving thing. It almost feels like the universe conspires to make me happy, with this (hopefully) one last person. To sum it up in a nutshell, this is the most hassle-free love story I’ve ever had in my life. No explanations needed, it’s just what it is.

Of course, my defense has not yet fully been retreated. There are still walls that need to be climbed, the necessary protection and shield that I cover my heart with. Who knows what will happen in the future? But this precise background of earning something with hardship makes me want to fight for this relationship. I once promised myself, that if someday I ever say ‘yes’ to a person, this person better does stay. Until the very end. Winning over my conviction should not be the last heroic thing that this person should do, instead, it’s the first of many other miles.

I’m looking back (proudly) at my days when this movie quote feels totally relevant:

Girls are taught a lot of stuffs growing up. If a guy punches you, he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs, and someday you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending. Every movie we see, every story we’re told, implores us to wait for it. The third act twist: the unexpected declaration of love. The exception to the rule. But sometimes we’re so focused on finding our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs. How to tell the ones who want us from the ones who don’t. The ones who will stay from the ones who will leave. And maybe this happy ending doesn’t include a wonderful guy. Maybe it’s you… on your own, picking up the pieces and starting over. Freeing yourself up from something better in the future. Maybe the happy ending is… just moving on.

Or maybe the happy ending is this: knowing that through all the unreturned phone calls and broken hearts, through all the blunders and misread signals, through all of the pain and embarrassment, you never, ever, gave up hope.

–He’s Just Not That Into You (2009)

And I’m gonna say it out loud: Yes, I never gave up hope.

On a more personal note:

Maybe you’re reading this on the rig with your eyes half-open, but I want to say thank you. Thank you for chasing me. Thank you for giving me clarity. Thank you for the special treats. Perhaps you’ll never know how much all of those sacrifices mean to me, but understand that I’m sending you this gratitude for providing me the university romance that I never had, but at the same time in a search for a lifetime partner. I once dreamed of being under the same umbrella with a man I love, running away from rain after shalat. And that was exactly what we did (I’m a pluviophile, google it up!). I once dreamed of being taught subjects by a crush that I like, in a library, and that was what we did. When I visited that old bakery shop for the first time, I honestly visualized myself sitting there with someone who loves me back, and that was what you turned out to be. I once dreamed of going to pretty cafes, watching the city lights glittering far away, and that was where you confessed. You didn’t know this and I didn’t plan it to happen, but you sum it up in two perfect days. So thank you very much.

And, just one more thing. I broke up with my last boyfriend on the 12^th day of the month. I started this relationship with you on the 12^th day of the month. An ending, it seems, is really a new beginning.

It’s very nice to be with someone who shares my set of values and whose moral compass points to the same direction. So here’s to cheering for the bad old days and good new days. Promise me you’ll stay. I want to see a future where one day years from now, I look back at this writing and see you waving your wrinkled hands and I’ll see my face wearing the sweetest wrinkled smile.

 

And for now, have you checked your Facebook inbox? 😀

 

What Suffering Teaches Me

If I have to describe myself in just one simple, meaningful sentence, I’ll say, “I’m a person that has been broken”.

Because that’s just who I am. 

People always expect you to do more than what you think you’ve had enough. In this first steps to the real world, that becomes more obvious. Something’s always missing. There’s always a crack that you try so hard to cover up, but that will always be found out. You want to be seen as flawlessly unbroken, but in this already messed up world, who doesn’t have issues?

I was once a totally innocent kid, like anybody did. I started playing in the neighborhood, started going to schools and socialized with a lot of people, and I began to see things differently. In my eyes, I saw destruction. I saw imperfections. I saw the faded beauty of the world I once saw as totally unblemished.

I was, in one way or another, broken.

The cracks began to add up as I was broken to the inner part of myself. The only part I knew would be too fragile to be released to this merciless reality. So I let it go, and it was broken, bashed, bruised, injured, damaged, in any way I would never have forgiven myself with.

But what I didn’t realize was that I truly needed myself to be broken.

Life, they say, is like a battlefield. Of course there would be bruises. Of course there would be pain that you cannot just simply tarnish. But experience counts. The more you understand your battlefields, the more you are able to devise excellent strategy.

The experience of suffering is really what makes my iron-fenced heart works.

I cursed my teenage years for being manipulated by hollow dreams I trapped myself in. For waiting for someone for years, without having the guts to do anything except lamenting over the sad facts that the head would never turn to the direction I was facing. I moved on to another journeys, was broken by menacingly cruel people who just would not understand what I was giving them. Even until my early adulthood years, when it comes to love, I still feel like a lost soul whose search for her half go in a cycle of treachery.

But the sufferings I went through, the people I was romantically involved with, the miscalculations that made me question my ability as an engineer, the forlorn tales which endings were determined to be tragic from the very first beginnings………….. all of them teaches me to stand up and know myself better.

Looking back at my years of loving and being loved, I realized that they had made me much stronger. Strong enough to understand that things don’t always go the way I want them to go. Strong enough to put rationality ahead of any illogical fallacy. And if loving someone completely requires you to love yourself completely too, I can proudly say out loud that I am now ready. I’ve known my self worth and how much portion of my heart I will allow someone other than me to have. I’ll still open myself up for any possibilities, but the hopes will not be as high, the fantasies will not be as wild, the expectations will not be as heavenly as before. The days of cotton candies have been over, and now I focus on optimization, life-long goals, diminished lust and having control over various variables. I know the dreamer in me will always go vividly romantic, but the slaps out to the reality makes disturbance even more possible to be minimized.

The experience of suffering is what really makes me who I am now.

I’ve always wanted to be a high achiever. It was a default chip that was implanted long before I was born. But if anyone sees me now and comment on how lucky I am, I can humbly say that they have the wrong idea. Things I’ve gone through, all the trophies and certificates and titles of ‘champion’ are the things I earn. Things I earned with literally bloodsweat and tears. And if anybody asks, how can I do that? How can I do that? How else can I do that?

Because I know how it feels to suffer from failures. Because I know how it feels to be broken, to be torn up from the inside, to be told that you were not capable enough, to be accused for being weak, to be compared with someone you love to the bone; to be told that your best — the best version of yourself that you created so delicately hard — was not good enough.

When you’ve suffered through your lowest points, you can always keep your head on the ground when your heart goes to the cloud.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————–

I make this writing in one of my life’s lowest points. Where I barely know where I should go. Where my biggest fear comes true – to be unable to know what I want. Where I can’t see the big picture. Where my days of being a strategic planner seems to have no concern.

But I make this writing in the hope that I will remember the struggles I’ve gone through. The worst sufferings of my life that I have survived. This writing is intended to tame my ego down and to understand that I am still, and will always be, on my way to an eternal fixation of myself. Because happiness, by any means, is something that always needs to be chased. As Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat, Pray, Love states, I have to participate relentlessly in the manifestation of my own blessings.

This is my battlefield. Knowing the worst should make me able to cope with changes of plans. This is the thrill of living, where unprecedented results may occur. And I should always be prepared.

Everything in this world are made for a purpose and should just makes sense. And only when you’ve been in the dark can you truly appreciate how grateful you should be to be able to see the light.