There was a time – not too long ago – that I desperately wanted to get out of the country. I’m not talking about a weekend getaway, or a couple of months around Europe. I wanted to live anywhere else in the world but here. And my Tiktok algorithm knew. My For You Page was filled with videos about how to open a surf school in Bali, or work at a tea plantation in Japan…

It was not just because of the humidity in Singapore, which appears to be one of the main reasons why we are angry all the time. It was not just because of the trains, packed like sardines, and unaffordable cars. It was not just because living with your parents and still feeling like a child at 30 is a communal experience.

It was also because Singapore is so damn small that every nook and cranny holds some sort of memory – some ghost of past – that makes you shudder whenever you walk past. It was also because everyone seems pretty content yet not too happy all at the same time. But most of all, it was because I hated who I was whenever I was back here.

I have spent more than five years of my life living abroad; and in my fifth year, it became pretty clear to me that, like it or not, your environment shapes the way you think, behave, and act. Out there, I’m creative. I try new things. I fail fast, and get back on my feet fast. In here, I go through the motion, like clockwork. I don’t endeavour to change anything. I don’t stop. And whenever I feel that something is amiss, I look around and see everyone doing the same thing. Doing their part. Then, I’m convinced that perhaps I’m the problem. The system works the way it does. I must be the problem.

This created lot of resentment within me.

But in the past few weeks, by some stroke of magic, I have begun to gain some enlightenment. I have come to realise that a large part of my resentment with the Singaporean society stemmed from my own insecurity. I was afraid of being different. I was afraid of being a failure “by Singapore’s standards”. Therefore, I blamed society for making me think, behave, and act this way.

Instead of facing our fears head on and taking action, we create narratives to deal with our insecurity. The narrative I told myself was that one day, I will find a place where I will fit in perfectly. A place that will accept me for who I am, and where I will be truly free.

But the truth is, such a place does not exist; and even if it does, it will probably be a lonely one.

It does not have all the things that I love, that I can only find here in Singapore. My favourite bowl of fishball noodles with just enough chili and lard. Pubs that open till three in the morning on a weekday with patrons that, like me, will somehow report to work at 9a.m. anyway. The privilege of being able to put on my noise cancellation AirPods while walking home at midnight, not having to worry about getting mugged. Walking around with shorts, tank top and and a pair of flip flops all year round. My family, my friends, and my loved ones.

I then realised that I do not hate Singapore. I still think that some parts of the system needs fixing; or perhaps, I need to live a little more courageously. But in the meanwhile, I will choose to be with the people and things that I love.