June 20, 2025

Lately, life has felt a little scattered, and my mind’s been cluttered with all sorts of things. So here’s a bit of a ramble today—not aiming for structure or polish, just letting my thoughts spill out as they come.

A few days ago, I was casually chatting with my mom when she suddenly mentioned that my cousin might be in a relationship. That one comment instantly piqued my interest, and I couldn’t resist shooting my cousin a message on WeChat. The first thing I said was, “I heard you have a boyfriend now?” She replied almost instantly: “Where did you hear that nonsense? No, I don’t!” And just like that, we were both spamming each other with emojis and memes, our chat exploding in laughter.

Why was I so surprised? I guess it’s because my cousin and I have always talked about the future together—what universities we’d get into, what majors we’d choose, what kind of guys we’d end up with, what kind of families we wanted. So many dreams, so many late-night conversations. Talking to her always felt like stepping into an alternate universe, where imagination trumped reality. But in the end, neither of us got into the universities we had dreamed of, nor studied the subjects we once loved so much. And as for boyfriends—well, we still don’t have any. Yes, you heard that right. Neither of us. Probably sounds even more shocking to others.

But truth be told, we’ve always been good at keeping ourselves busy. That, and the fact that we’re surrounded by very few men to begin with, might explain a lot of it.

I still remember back in university, my grandmother once called me in a fury. She said she was about to be driven mad by something my cousin had said about her “future husband,” and begged me to talk some sense into her. I don’t recall everything that was said, but one particular line stuck with me. My cousin had said, “If I can’t find someone I truly love, then I’ll settle for a relationship based on mutual respect.” And then she added something even more shocking: that if her partner cheated and even had a child with someone else, as long as the third party didn’t harm her or her child’s interests, she could tolerate it.

Going further back—maybe in middle school, before I moved to New Zealand—I remember summer afternoons at my grandmother’s place, lying on that little bed, unable to nap. We’d chat about what kind of people we might fall for. Our standards were like checklists: looks, height, personality, even some weird little details I probably couldn’t recall now.

This morning, we were chatting again, and I realized how much more grounded she’s become. She talks about practical things now—compatibility, two families instead of just two people, and even the importance of the other person’s parents. She’s also open to the idea of arranged dates set up by her parents. None of this would’ve even been imaginable just a few years ago—maybe not even before 2024.

And me? Do I want a home of my own someday? It’s not like I’ve never thought about it, but the answer changes every time. I guess the most consistent answer is: I’ll leave it to fate.

Last night, I asked my mom if my aunt had any opinions on my cousin’s standards for a partner. “No,” she said. I laughed and told her, “You and Auntie are so alike.” Then, out of nowhere, she said, “Should I help you find someone too?” And boom—instant pressure. I shook my head hard: “No, please no.” We both laughed and agreed, “Alright then, just leave it to fate.”

Funny thing is, just a few days ago, my dad also asked, “Have you thought about finding a partner?” I was stunned. We were talking about something entirely unrelated, and then—boom—this came out of nowhere. My mind instantly filled with question marks. Why is he bringing this up now? I brushed it off with a half-joking excuse: “Let me find a job first.” Crisis averted.

Speaking of my dad, he often finds my attitude toward job hunting a bit ridiculous. He thinks I’m too picky—that I should be casting a wider net. And honestly, he’s not wrong. But still, there are some places I just can’t bring myself to like. Getting an offer doesn’t mean I have to accept it. Even if it means the coming months might be a bit rough, I’d rather deal with temporary discomfort than be stuck somewhere I hate. Our conversation ended in disagreement, but I’m glad I kept one small secret to myself. Maybe one day I’ll tell him everything, maybe not. But right now, I know that if I did, it’d only lead to more pressure, more chaos—and that’s the last thing I need.

So, in the months ahead, I need to give it my all, to honor the effort it’s taken to keep this little secret safe. Not because I want to be rebellious, but because I want to give myself a fair shot at something different—something that feels right.

That’s it for today. Even if the logic of this all isn’t perfectly clear, writing it out helps me feel a little clearer inside. Life is complicated enough as it is. I just want to slow down a bit, think carefully, and make sure I don’t take the wrong path—even if it means walking a little slower.