Praying for Central Vietnam ❤️

As a proud Vietnamese, I wish I could wear this shirt everyday without being called a weirdo. Missing home so much. & Always am thinking of what I have to do in order to come back and save my people from poverty. The goal never once left my mind. Always am thinking of my beautiful, beloved home country. No city is as beautiful as my Can Tho and no country is as breath taking as my Viet Nam. 46 more days until the day I finally get to come home. ❤️

Praying for Central Viet Nam. God, please be with my people. Please open Your mighty arms and help my people, your children. Please, Father. 

Inner Insomniac

When it comes out, it takes along the loud thoughts and avoided issues with it...

The thoughts that have been avoided during the day time and the issues that await decisions make it so hard to organize. It gets worse as time passes by, as more boulders pile on top of the others. It'd be a lie to pretend to be brave and know exactly where I'm heading or what I'm doing, because I don't... Even though it seems like I've gotten every single detail of the blue print figured out, I actually don't have the slightest clue about which path I want to take yet. I think most of that comes from the fear or failure and having to live with the regrets of the failure.

Between the two paths, what if I end up choosing the wrong one then having to live with the regrets that come in the form of consequences?

The thought of living life, regretting my choice, scares me to death...

Signing off.

Reminiscing...

Growing up as a princess, how Earth revolves around the Sun and why time changes didn't matter. 

The only things that ever worried my heart was what I was going to wear for the party tomorrow or who will be my partner for the badminton match tomorrow. Whether I was going to tutoring session tomorrow or pretend to be sick so I can read comic books all day. At the age of eight, hard to believe, but I basically had my life all mapped out in front of me. I knew who I was going to be and who I will end up marrying, at least an idea of who. 

Every day seems to be had already been programmed inside my neural tissues. School started at 6:45 every morning, which means having to wake up at six and leave the house by 6:30. It was normal not seeing mom's or dad's face; it would be abnormal and absurd to see them. Going to school and knowing where I stood at school were also parts of the programmed information. My school, a lot like in Korean dramas, had the caste system and your social class determines where you eat, what class you're in, and the friends you have. The extremely wealthy and politicians's kids are considered first class, merchants' kids fall right below that, teachers' kids underneath and last comes the poor. At school, it was easy to pick out the poor kids; dark blue and white uniforms were considered the "untouchable". While the first three levels would wear all-white uniforms, the last level students, who leave during lunch time and come back once class starts, wear half white and half blue uniforms. 

Even the class rooms are separated into rich and poor. So did the privileges. 

Being the daughter of a very well-known business owners that have been shown on TVs and magazines, life was amazingly great for me, both at home and at school. While I was treated like a princess at home, I was considered one of the queens at school. Never once did I have to wait for breakfast when I woke up, neither did I ever have to make my own food or washed my own clothes. Chores were the most intriguing things to me and I never understood the concept of having "family time". I was spoiled by Chi and Trang, my maids as well as the middle-aged butler, Tho, that I loved dearly. At school, especially to the teachers, I was considered the golden egg that they had to be gentle to because I was worth a lot more than the other students. 

Growing up in magazines and on TVs, I grown to hate being in the middle of attention. I hated my teachers, knowing how much they "treasured" me and my well-being. I hated the friends who became my friends because they wanted the benefits of knowing my parents. I hated arriving to school in the luxury of a car while almost everyone else had normal motorcycles. I hated having eyes on me, but I loved being looked upon. It made me feel important and powerful. 

Even though I had friends, it was pretty lonely most of the time with my parents hardly ever home and there was no one my age around. The only thing I looked forward to was summer. Summer used to be my favorite season of all time; not because of the weather, specifically, but the memories that usually come with it. Summer was when my family and I get to travel for a few months. With the friends they had, we usually have a big group going on a road trip together and because of how powerful they were, there were always body guards, maids, chauffeurs and butlers coming along with us. 

The only friend I had was Jay; the childhood best friend I grew up with who competed with me in anything and everything. He was my fiancee from two-families promise and we were supposed to grow up and get married. Even though we weren't in the same class at school, he still had many excuses to compete with me on everything. We have been friends for basically all my life and even though he was the most spoiled and obnoxious brat, he was the closest thing I had to a best friend. He understood the pressure and loneliness I felt and when we were together, adventures always arrived. He hated listening to his parents and the only person that could get him into going anywhere or doing anything, was me. He trusted me and was most comfortable with me. 

On one of the trips up North during the summer before I left to America, I had one of the most vivid memories of my life. I remember it was late at night and I was just so hungry that I couldn't sleep. My parents were in the next, connected room and my brother was on the other bed, fast asleep. I woke up, went to look for food in the fridge but there was absolutely nothing to eat. I was so desperate that I left and went straight to Jay's room across the hall. I was scared out of my mind because the hallway was eerily quiet. I knocked for awhile until he finally came out, looking sleepy and tired. Unlike me, he was an only child, which meant he had the room to himself. I told him how hungry I was and like always, he spoiled me without a second thought. After putting on warm clothes, he took me to our chauffeurs' rooms because we didn't know where the maids and butlers' rooms were. Even though they were pretty angry at us for bothering them in their sleep, they made us ramen and I ate about three boxes before I told them I was full and we walked back to our rooms. Because we weren't sleepy anymore, we went to his room and played cards and talked until very late that night. Even though we got in huge trouble the next morning for not being able to wake up, it was worth it all. 

Summer break was always something I looked forward to and what got me through months of school. 

But now, summer break is three months of staying home and sulking in my room. Things changed, for the worse. In America, we're not the highest caste, we're not powerful and wealthy. Here in America, I am average, ordinarily average. Somehow, I feel perfectly right and fit being ordinary. 

Sometimes, I wish I still had that life and wish I could've stayed in Vietnam, but I would take it back in a heartbeat. After seeing the kinds of people my friends grew up to be, I'm beyond grateful to be raised in America, as an American, an ordinarily-average American teenager. 

Even though the memories from those summer breaks and having to leave my beautiful, beloved country after every visit tear my heart into pieces, I'm glad to be grown into an American girl. I love my Vietnamese heritage and the memories from the time of being a princess, I'm happy to say that I'm a very ordinary American teenager.