Dont' get bitter, get better

This is an article written 12 years ago, an article dedicated to my dearest beloved father:

I used to consider myself a very fortunate person. I had a family who loved me, friends who cared for me and I was doing well in my studies and sports. I was contented and pleased with my life.

However all this soon came to an end when I was sent to Singapore to pursue my studies at the age of 13.

A completely new phase of my life started. I was bewildered, to say the least. The new environment seemed hostile to me. The people did not seem as amicable as my former friends and to make thing worse, I could not fully comprehend the English language my teachers were babbling in.

As time passed, nothing improved and I was no longer the confident, blithe girl I used to be. I felt I could not fit into the life of school in Singapore. I was ostracized and had no friends.
My family was no around to console me. I had no place to seek solace. I wallowed in self-pity. I hated my stern English teach; I detested my classmates; I even blamed my father for sending me to Singapore. After tolerating this situation for a few months, I returned to my hometown during my mind-year holiday.

I can still recall vividly how I handed my report to my father with quivering hands. My head sank in an effort to hide the shame. However he did not make any comment on the column of red marks. But his face clearly showed that he was very disappointed with my school performance.

The same evening, my family had planned to attend my grandmother’s birthday celebration. It was an annual even that mum made it a rule that everyone should attend.

But I did not want to go. I did not want to be questioned in front of my relatives on my failure and bad performance in school. So I cooked up an excuse that I was not feeling well. Mum was not happy about it and my brother added that I was just malingering to avoid embarrassment about my school result. This sarcasm felt like salt in my wounds, and I was so outraged and I just screamed and kicked him at his kneecap without any thought. And both of us ended in an fight.

My family was devastated! They had never expected an obedient girl like me to resort to violence. My father pointed his finger at me and said: “Don’t you dare to raise your voice to any one under this roof!” Then in a blanket of silence, they walked out the door. Once again, I was left alone.

I collapsed onto the sofa and cried. I didn’t know how long the crying continued till I heard persistent knows on the doors. I dragged myself to open the door, and saw my father stood on the doorstep with a packet of soup noodles in his hand. “I know you haven’t taken your dinner. Here it is.” He said softly.

Tears swelled uncontrollably again in my eyes. He pulled me to the sofa and patted my head. “I know these last few months have been hard in you. I don’t know whether I had made the right decision to send you to Singapore…” he faltered.

I was stunned, realizing that I had made this ever-confident man to doubt his decision and even worse, to feel guilty.

“But as you grow up,” my father continued “you have to overcome the obstacles that you will face. You cannot always live under the shelter of your family. I know that if you continue to live with us, to study here with your friends, you would definitely be complacent with life. Remember, life is never easy. When you face difficulties, you have to tell yourself, you either get bitter or better.”

His words still linger in my mind. They give me encouragement and hope to face whatever problems I encounter. Yes, my dear daddy, not only have beaten the bitterness, I have done much better than you expected.