kuala lumpur.

It has been a little over a month since I left home for home, and even though my life is as chaotic as ever, I will forever be grateful for my experiences as a child growing up as a product of two cultures. Growing up and being pulled between my cultures, was always a source of loneliness and isolation. There was never anyone who understood what it meant to be hyphenated in a country outside that of an immigrant experience, but not that of a transient immigrant, a temporary resident. As the list of countries grew, so did the hyphens, and the myriad of languages learned.

As I have grown older (and hopefully wiser), I have learned to appreciate the many fabrics that make up my own cultural and ethnic identity. The question, “where are you from?” will always be a source of anxiety, not because I do not know the answer, but because of how nuanced it is, and how the answer will always be different based on who is asking, and when they are asking. I will never be Malaysian enough for those Malaysians who will never lose their accents, nor will I be Canadian enough for those who still have a predisposition of Canada, as being the land of Anne of Green Gables. I will always be weirdly not Chinese enough for my indifference to rice, love for charcuterie, cheese and potatoes, and inability to wrap dumplings or cook an authentic stir-fry, yet I still consider myself still all those things in various equal lengths and denominations.

In many retrospects I have learnt to experience and understand my own culture and upbringing as something unique to me, and a celebration of the best of my many worlds. In the very essence, I have learnt to create my own cultural identity that is different to what is to be expected of someone with my experiences. Like the city I grew up in, I will always be a confluence of many cultures. The meeting place of many spaces that have learned to cohabit and coexist together. Kuala Lumpur will always be one of my favourite cities, if not my favourite city in the world - not because of what it brings, but because of what it means. A space where two rivers meet in a muddy estuary, and where populations of different experiences grow and thrive together. It will always be the home that never is home. A place that reminds me of where I have come from, and a place where I run away to. A city very much like myself, but also not at all. A place where it all began, and a space where I will forever find joy.

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difficult spaces.

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love.