I look into the mirror and wonder where the years have gone. I neither look young nor old, but somewhere in between. Is it my Asian genes that mask my age or is it the dazed, blank look in my eyes? My blue black hair is now tinted a dark brown as I attempt to cover up the coarse gray strands that have crept in over the previous years. My irises, still dark in color are surrounded by whites that are reddened by daily lack of sleep and stress. I would love to say that I see wisdom behind those eyes, but rather, I will call it experience. Of innocence and childhood, of teenage angst and youthful follies and mishaps. Of first love and all encompassing lust. And most recently, of unconditional motherly love and relationship disillusionment.
It is now in my 37th year that I find myself at a crossroads in my physical, emotional and spiritual life. I have bore my children and as I approach sending them all off to school, I ask myself, now what? What is my purpose? Where is the woman I was told I was to become one day? From all my extensive research on daytime television talk shows, I realize that this has been the normal scenario for woman all around the world since the beginning of time and I am certainly not alone in my renewal for purpose. The only difference in my situation is that I must ask myself, did I ever feel that I had purpose? Value? That is the ultimate question that I ask myself. One I hope to answer by writing this blog, this journal, this memoir of sorts. My true story of the unique authentic me. Perhaps by writing of years gone by, of current struggles and observations will inspire me to find peace in myself. Perhaps it will allow me to let go of the lies embedded in my brain and in my soul and discover the woman I was meant to be, but have yet to become.