Chapter 4

Daughter

What’s my Utopia?

My brother asked me this question through a letter. For that split second, I felt like asking him to stop dancing with the angels and come down to tell me what is my utopia. But after one night of thinking, I finally thought through it. The answer is so crystal clear. My brother had already written it in the letter for me.

I just need to stop running and be me. This is my Utopia.

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It is a game of "pretend," I just need to put on a mask, a cover, some make-up and my best smile. I used to feel that each time I step out; I had to give a winning performance. A show that would make people believed that I was the same as them and be accepted into their own circle of friends. With them, it is always about fake laughter and smiles. It was never about the real me.

For now, it is time to shred off my mask and be me.

With that, I called my Mum.



Mum

My daughter just called to say she will be buying some Christmas decoration items for our house. She finally told me the truth. For some reason, I feel I had gotten the best Christmas gift I ever got in my whole life.

My daughter’s honesty.