What to Do When the World Doesn’t Get You

Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/X5Bz_flmhdM/

Drunk or High at a Nightclub

“Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity.” ~Pema Chödrön

For as long as I can remember, I have always been a little different, defiantly so.

I was that child who never liked cartoons. I was nicknamed “the little old lady” for the things I said at the age of five.

I was that girl from northern Vietnam who refused to change her accent and use of language while schooling in the south, despite being made a subject of ridicule for that.

I was the only pupil that felt indignant about having analyses of literature imposed on us at school—why did everyone have to think and feel the same way about a poem?

The feeling of being out of place plagued my childhood and early adolescence.

My disposition as an outsider deepened during my time studying in Singapore. It was bad enough that I found nothing in common with the locals, but I did not feel an affinity with other Vietnamese students either. Joined by origins and circumstances, we were supposed to feel a bond, but I only felt my difference in interests and values.

When I left Vietnam and subsequently Singapore, I did not know how I would fund my future studies beyond the scholarships I was given. But in my mind, the pain of feeling an outsider jus…

Source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/tinybuddha/~3/X5Bz_flmhdM/

Drunk or High at a Nightclub

“Compassion becomes real when we recognize our shared humanity.” ~Pema Chödrön

For as long as I can remember, I have always been a little different, defiantly so.

I was that child who never liked cartoons. I was nicknamed “the little old lady” for the things I said at the age of five.

I was that girl from northern Vietnam who refused to change her accent and use of language while schooling in the south, despite being made a subject of ridicule for that.

I was the only pupil that felt indignant about having analyses of literature imposed on us at school—why did everyone have to think and feel the same way about a poem?

The feeling of being out of place plagued my childhood and early adolescence.

My disposition as an outsider deepened during my time studying in Singapore. It was bad enough that I found nothing in common with the locals, but I did not feel an affinity with other Vietnamese students either. Joined by origins and circumstances, we were supposed to feel a bond, but I only felt my difference in interests and values.

When I left Vietnam and subsequently Singapore, I did not know how I would fund my future studies beyond the scholarships I was given. But in my mind, the pain of feeling an outsider jus…

What Do You Think?

comments

Translate »