Earlier today I had an accident. I fell in the bathroom and my toes were stuck in the crack between the side panel of the bathtub and the floor. It’s hard to explain visually but basically I couldn’t get my feet out and I was in immense pain. For a second I really thought I might lose my toes. I was panicking and crying and shaking. I managed to pull one toe out but another toe was still in there hurting, not at all moving. I told myself to calm down while trying to open the bathroom door and shouting for help. I called my sister who was sleeping in her room around the corridor but she didn’t respond. It was when my hero appeared.
My mum. She fled upstairs the second she heard my teary voice. She was so terrified of seeing me like that. I told her I needed to lift up the bathtub’s panel and I couldn’t do it with my hands. She immediately ran downstairs and took some bread knives back with her and handed them to me. I can’t remember exactly what I did there but using the knife helped and within seconds my toe was pulled out. Don’t freak out. There was blood, yes, but I didn’t cut my toes off. I rescued them all intact, just very painful.
After that, my mum cleaned the blood off my feet, put on some band-aids for me, brought food to my bed and told me not to cry. She said my crying had almost broken her heart and I knew she meant it. She really meant it. Seeing the sorrow on her face, all the things she would do for me just out of her instinct, her attentiveness to my every single need, not just on this occasion but for the last 21 years of my life, brought endless tears to my eyes. I had not seen her for years till she came visit me in England last month. We hadn’t even spoken on the phone that much and shamefully, I hadn’t always been a sweet, loving daughter either. But it’s like none of that matters. She just loves me, you know. She just loves me so much. She has loved me every single day even when I wasn’t home with her.
I wish I was taught to be more affectionate to my parents. I wish I was taught to show my appreciation openly to the people who love me. I’m really not good at that, not just to my parents but to anyone really. I had been really trying but it is challenging as it is not natural of me. Most of the times I’m just here silently with my thoughts, my feelings wrapped tightly in my bruised and guarded heart, bottled up with all the heartfelt words left unspoken, all the caring gestures I haven’t had the chance to show while some people think I’m unappreciative, ungrateful, cold, aloof. It hurt me to think, because of this, I haven’t touched the people I’ve been with in a meaningful way which is all that I’ve been meaning to do and so they find it easy to forget about me. I’m so sorry, though I accept it. I’ll try my best from now on and, hopefully, someone will understand and appreciate it and stick around with me.
On a positive note, knowing I’m loved, loved so deeply and unconditionally like this, I think back to all the times I was agonising over the people who weren’t that into me, treated me poorly or didn’t think much of me, and realise it was such an insult, a slap in the face, to my mum, my friends and everyone who cares about me and loves me. I should’ve focused all that energy into giving back to these wonderful people and showing my love to them more and more each day. Seriously, I’ve learned my lesson now. Today, for them, for my mum, for the love I’m fortunate enough to receive every second of the day, I will stay strong no matter what happens. For them, I will love myself and put myself first. For them, I will not settle for less than the people who prove to be deserving of me, of my heart, of these words, of my life and my devotion in return to them. I promise. I will make better decisions and keep my feet firm on the ground.
For them, for myself, and for the love I have for me too.
I will be patient. I will open my mind, my heart. I will be selective about who I let in. I will give my all to those who are in and choose to stay.