Hey there fellow #DITS 🙂
Thanks for coming back to read me!
Not going to lie, I’ve been really stumped on writing this second blog. After I posted the first one, I had such amazing and positive responses that I felt a lot of pressure in writing this second one. I didn’t want it to be a shitty sequel.
But I realized…Hey! Let’s avoid the sequel and make a prequel! Hayyy!
Prior to reading my first blog “The Day of my 27th Birthday, Was the Day I Turned 1“, many felt “iffy” on the concept of “being dumb” or “being a #DITS”. After reading me, they understood that my definition of “dumb” was definitely an interesting concept on growing up, learning, and embracing your dumb mistakes!
I must admit, I wasn’t always a #DITS. When I was a child I was actually – Dare I say it?..”Smart”.
Grammar tests? First one done. (Natural writer…*wink-wink)
Math tests? Typical asian kid stereotype. (It’s in my blood)
Gym? Typical asian kid stereotype…(Natural butterfingers – Mmm…chocolate)
Except Dodgeball! I take pride in excelling at dodging balls…
I was going to be smart, successful, and based on how well I dodged balls…A prude! Every parents’ “perfect child”.
But still, every school project, every report card, every damn “A” was a disappointment for me. I never got the attention I wanted and hoped for from my Mom. Typical asian kid stereotype. #anotherone
My Mom was a single Mother taking care of her accident child at the age of 19. Not only was she taking care of her daughter, she was taking care of her little brother in a small one-bedroom apartment.
Where was my Dad? Well, let’s just say, I didn’t know what the word “Dad” was until I was 4.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my Dad, he’s an amazing man! But we’ll get to my Daddy problems that are existentially non-existent another time…
Being raised by a single Mom, I must say, kudos to all of the single parents out there. Y’all don’t need a pat on the back. You need a Stone Cold Stunner! Gives you an excuse for a break.
And here I am struggling to handle a full-time career and the wonderful world of Adulting.
Not even going to lie, everyday as I think about responsible adult crap, it always ends with hopes of getting shot up on the block to death.
…And I’m not even a parent.
As a kid, I grew up in a Jewish neighbourhood where the ratio between stay-at-home moms and single moms was pretty much…
Every Mother in the neighbourhood : My Mom
Oddly enough, stay-at-home Moms do anything, but stay at home. Because of that, I always heard kids moaning and groaning with agony about their moms chaperoning field trips. As for me? Well, I could only imagine having my Mom there and telling all of my friends “Guys! That’s my Mom!”
I figured that if I kept being a perfect and responsible kid, I would make my Mom proud and we would spend more time together. I just wanted that “tv mother-daughter relationship”. So, I always tried hard to be the “perfect child”. Unfortunately, as I became more responsible, smarter, and “perfect” the more she trusted me to be on home watch and picked up more shifts at work. I was on home watch since age 9.
Womp. Fucking. Womp.
When I was 11, we moved to a more “Urban” neighbourhood. My cousin also moved in with us and she was a “likkle cray-cray yute”! So my Mom gave her a lot of attention with lectures and yelling. Little 11 year old me was feeling jealous and neglected.
Even if it was bad attention, I wanted my Mom to yell at me too! So, I rebelled. And I did it the only way I knew would get my Mom’s attention. I dumbed down.
In Grade 5, it became my mission. I called it “Operation: Dumb The Fuck Down”.
Honestly…Being stupid is hard.
When you’re so used to knowing the right answers, it’s hard to know which wrong answer is the right one.
I failed the first mission, which was to fuck up the class’ “Word of the Week” (write down a difficult word you stumbled upon that would be in the Spelling Test). Normally, the words I chose were the hardest in class. My teacher told me I was reading and writing at a Grade 8 level. So, you can imagine her reaction when, one day, I wrote down “apple”.
It took a few years of practise, but I finally did it! I landed my first D in middle school! While most of the girls were wondering how to get the “D”, I was wondering how to get the letter D.
I know…middle school kids are kinky as fuck!
By high school, I became the joke in my family, which wasn’t really part of the plan. But I was all like “whatevss” and I kept doing my jam!
I got suspended in Grade 10 for being drunk in school. FYI: Vodka. Not so “Yum” anymore.
From being the “example child” in my family to the “you don’t want to be like her” child, I managed to go 100 to 0, real quick.
Real. Fucking. Quick.
Operation: Dumb the Fuck Down was becoming my reality. I went from pretending not to care about school, to actually not really caring at all.
I skipped school a lot to go to the beach.
…And the zoo.
Somehow, I still managed to graduate high school with an 80% average and was accepted to Ryerson University for Business Administration.
My Mom always told me that the only important graduation ceremonies were high school and Uni/College. After I graduated high school, my Mom still never came to my graduation.
Can you guess why?
Regardless of that, I saw how proud my Mom was of me. She bragged to everyone about her smart daughter going to uni – Yet, we still never spent time together. It was then that I accepted my Mom and I would never have that mother-daughter relationship. She was a workaholic and that wasn’t changing. Alas, I put Operation: Dumb The Fuck Down to retire.
While my Mom was busy being proud about my accomplishments, I heard nothing but shit from others.
“Wow! I’m just shocked you made it past high school”
“Getting in to Uni is easy”
“But can you graduate?”
I always figured these comments were about me…It was never about me. These doubts were all a reflection on my Mom as a parent.
You can be the best parent in the world, but if your kid is a fuckery, it’s always your fault. With the way I was behaving, I never gave any reason for people to think otherwise about my Mom. I was a hot mess of a drunken party animal.
Yup – I was this girl…
I really gave no fucks about what people thought about me. But I gave a lot of fucks on how they viewed my mom. I had to prove them all wrong.
I planned to kill it in school. Then become a super successful marketing person who travelled the world.
By doing that, I would succeed in proving to them that my Mom was a strong and independent woman. Most importantly, they were going to see who I saw – The Best Mom Ever!
So. Fucking. Inspirational.
Unfortunately, Operation: Dumb the Fuck Down was too successful and it became a dark reality that awakened. And it was a real Fuck Up. For too long, I wasn’t challenging my brain enough to actually use it. Like Anakin Skywalker, the darkness was taking over.
In high school, the tests are easy because there’s just one right answer. Whereas, in uni, all the answers are right, it’s just a matter of which answer is more right than the others. Basically, I was fucking screwed.
I studied my ass off trying to get, at least, a passing grade. Quite pathetic. Test after test, those late study nights didn’t matter – I was still that student number beside the lowest mark in class.
Operation: Dumb the Fuck Down took full control of me. I couldn’t turn it off! After being put on probation, I gave up. I let the dark side consume me.
A year after I dropped out, my Mom was still telling everyone how proud she was of me. Yeah, I kind of avoided telling my Mom that I dropped out of school and developed a bad shopping addiction.
If only my Mom knew what she was really proud of…
Of course, when my Mom started questioning me about why I had so many new shopping bags, but never new books, I finally confessed.
I expected her to go full super saiyan mode on me; Scream, throw miscellaneous objects, beat my ass.
And this was going to be a bunch of hits I couldn’t dodge…
She did nothing.
I had officially disappointed my Mom. If you have ever disappointed your parents before, it may have gone a little something like this…
Dumb & Dandy’s Stages of “So You’ve Fucked Up and Disappointed Your Parent(s)”
- You’re shocked there is no yelling or crying.
- The look in their face is uncomfortable as fuck. So, you probably look down or around the whole time.
- There’s just too many thoughts sprinting around, yet, you can’t grab a single one. You’re thoughtless.
- Your lungs are frozen, but your heart is on hype mode.
- Your gut and chest feels light with butterflies. Evil butterflies that suck the air out of your lungs making you cringe.
- Whether or not anything is said, they always end up walking away and closing the door on you.
- You have no clarity or reassurance on anything, whatsoever.
- “Are they mad at me? What are they thinking?”
- “Damn, did my parents just give up on me?”
- “Do they still love me?”
Worst. Feeling. Ever.
Nothing beats the feelings of Disappointment.
So, why does ‘Disappointed‘ get dibs in being the “worst feeling ever”? Why is it that “I’m disappointed in you” hurts more than “I’m angry with you”?
After my Mom did Stage 6, it affected me more than the time I pissed her off so badly she threw a wet sponge at my foot.
Operation: Dumb the Fuck Down was a success. And it was the stupidest thing I had ever done.
Is it ironic that “Be Careful What You Wish For” was my favourite Goosebumps book? You are what you read, I guess.
Once again, all I accomplished was proving everyone right. I failed. I knew my Mom knew what people were saying as well, but she never gave up on me. I realize it’s because she never gave up on herself as a Mom either. But in that moment, it sure felt like she had given up on us.
When your parents are angry with you, you don’t really care because they’re just mad at you and only you. You’re the stupid one. It’ll pass! Whatevs! Whoop dee doo!
And while everyone sees you as your fails, no matter how angry your parents are, they’ll always see you through your fails.
But disappointed, that’s when you feel as though your parents see you just as everyone else does – A fucking fucked fucker. (Or was that just me?)
That’s not even the end of it. On top of all that self-disgust, there’s also the guilt of making your parents feel like they’re bad parents. Or even like a “fucking fucked fucker”.
That’s why ‘disappointed‘ holds the title of “worst feeling ever” – Your mistake is not just about you this time.
You always look at your parents as the “best parents ever”. And it feels like shit knowing your parents don’t see what you see in them. Now, they see what everyone else sees in, not only you, but themselves.
It’s fucked to think that my Mom might have told herself anything along the lines of…
Everyone is right.
I am a failure.
I’m a bad fucking Mom.
To Be Continued…