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abnahaya · 6 years

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toxic small talks

Before we get to the the point, let me tell you the context of this post. So, it's a holiday season in Indonesia, Eid Al Fitr and school holiday happen at the same time, plus the government decide to give longer public holidays this year. This situation causes people to travel to their hometowns; and for us Indonesians, hometown sometimes doesn't actually mean a town, mostly it's a place(s) where our family (the big one) is originated from; so yes, it can be more than just one place. In this occasion, we are expected to reunite with our, once again, big families in order to tighten the family bond. I've been talking with my friends and also reading on the internet about this back-to-home ground experiences, and not very surprisingly, I find a lot of things in common; or should I say one big common in many forms. Annoyance, uncomfort, sometimes ill-manner which leads to the concern of the needs of new approach in small talks.

So far, I can only think of two general types of common small talks in Indonesia, specially in the family gathering context:

The Infamous "When are you getting married?" & Similar Nosy Questions

I am currently on the age when people worry so much if a person, especially a woman, doesn't have any marriage-oriented-steady relationship yet. However, even if someone is already in such relationship but not yet determine any kind of wedding plan, it's still a no-no. Marriage has long been set as a huge standard of (one of) the life goals in Indonesia, again, women are usually suffer more on this matter–because they have an expiry date, they say. It's a common knowledge that everyone my age going to their hometowns are going to be welcomed by the question of "when are you getting married?"

Note: This question usually has follow-ups or subtitutes when it is felt not challenging enough, such as: "When will you finish your study?"; "When are you getting a job?"; "When are you having kids?"; "Will there be a wedding party?"; "Don't forget to invite me on the wedding day!"; "Please send my uniform ASAP"; etc.

Normalised Sexism/Racism/Colourism/Body-shaming Comments.

I am just gonna list the most asked questions/accusations directed personally to me:

Why do you look darker?

You gain weight!

You used to date Chinese guys, how come you end up with a Caucasian?

God, not more tattoos...

Why do you dye your hair like that?

You look like a bad girl (geez, thanks!)

Girls are not supposed to...

etc

I am getting married next year, so I thought I can go through this year's gathering in a more relaxed way. But of course, there is still the second type of small talks. And you know what, I don't think anyone ever gonna pass through.

People are ranting about these small talks. But why? Aren't they supposed to mean that people (in this case, your family) care about you?

Well, first of all:

Which roughly translated: you never actually care about my whole story and reasons I do things, never once check up on how I'm doing, and probably will talk shit behind my back–DON'T TALK TO ME AS IF IT'S FINE TO DIG INTO PERSONAL ISSUES CAREFREELY AND JUDGE THEM.

And it is personal. It's not a fucking joke. Don't tell me to chillax and just ignore the question of I don't want to answer them–because in the end they're gonna keep asking when there's no satisfying answer given. Let alone suggesting me to compromise with them and stop writing this post. Bitch, I gotta rant somewhere!

In other words, it is not a matter of the small talk, it is about the true intention of the entire small talk itself.

Seriously, let's think back with rational thoughts: why did people create small talks? To make it less awkward between two people whom barely know each other. Think of it as two random strangers stuck in an elevator and try to break the silence, I'm pretty sure asking about their status or judging their physical looks would help breaking the ice. Now go back to present day and imagine the context of two distant relatives whom never see or talk to each other for a long time, why would it be "normal" to do it?

So yeah, you should know why me and the rest of the so-called snowflake generation are pissed with this kind of small talks: because they are not small at all! Small talks are supposed to be light questions, the ones you can answer without hesitation, too much thinking, and bring the sense of not-so-alone between the speakers. Yes, they sound silly and like, why would people do that? Newsflash, not everyone follows your instagram to know that you're so into the newest single of Maroon 5 or that you recently go to a vacation–therefore we do the small talks first.

First is the keyword, if the small talks goes well, you may as well proceed to a deeper discussion, such as when I am getting married. Oh I certainly will gladly tell my love story to anyone who genuinely care, not to someone who will probably forget about it the next day cause it doesn't matter anyway. Let people choose what they want to tell you about their life, let them be comfortable; because by then you won't only listen to their story, but also learn about them.

Like, why satisfied by forcing someone to answer about when they are getting married when you can learn how their parents' broken marriage failed her faith in marriage and lead her to choose not getting married? I personally would choose the second one because by then I would be able to understand her more and therefore, know how to treat her as a dear friend.

Unless of course, when you're too comfortable being ignorant. Or an asshole.

On another note, these misplaced-not so small talks are becoming more and more toxic as people keeps slipping personal intentions and unwanted opinions. Sadly, this happen so often that it is considered "normal" and "harmless", even "motivating"; so that it encourages people to keep doing it, even unconciously.

One of an Indonesian feminist influencer that I followed on instagram wrote that she hated body-shaming comments (that she received from her relatives during family gatherings) because at some points of her life, she can possibly do the same thing just to make her feel better about herself and in the end it would just hurt each other's feelings. –exactly!

I mean, come on it's 2018 and we all know that sexism/racism/colourism/body shaming is not cool.

It leaves us to the last question: what's next?

Cynical people would say that we're being too naggy and emotional. That we can't have fun and just laugh shits off because it isn't that serious. Or is it?

I think there are 4 things we can do to deal with toxic small talks:

Do actual small talks: the ones so trivial you feel like you don't need to ask, but ask anyway. And go further from there. You don't know if someone really needs to be asked about how they are doing or not. If the other person is interested enough in you to build deeper conversation, they will eventually tell things about them.

Start telling about yourself first. Talk about the things you want them to know about you. See if they can open up after you do, because maybe they don't want to feel like the only one being vulnerable. Afterall, this is a conversation, not a job interview.

Tell someone if they are crossing the privacy line. You have the right and freedom to limit your circle, your personal info, and so on; but others might have different measurements, so make sure they know yours.

If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything. I know, when we meet someone who is so much different than us, a lot of things sounds stupid. Keep it to yourself, or else it's pretty much gonna be the same cycle of toxic talks.

I have a confession: I haven't been able to apply all four perfectly. In fact, I kept silent A LOT when my family do the toxic talks towards me (and then rant about it on twitter, lol!), just because I don't want to be involved in long, endless and tiring debate with them. Sometimes, I am also still hurt when my friends make fun of my body weight but talking back at them are not always as easy.

If you do, too. That's totally okay.

We all gotta start somewhere. This world is already so cruel to you and you don't need to make it worse. Just so you know, once you apply that, you're gonna be proud of yourself because there–you just made one positive contribution to create a kinder world for the future generations. You'll get used to it.

I know right, social interactions are sooo interesting. LOL

You'll be okay, I just detoxified you ;)

#bananayue #small talks #toxic #bad habit #life hacks #social #truth

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abnahaya · 6 years

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I Don't Wanna Lose Myself.

I am writing this from the darkness in my room, with my grandmother sleeping on the next matress; scraping for the last bits of privacy I can get in this house. I refuse to join my family in the livingroom because I just had a small argue with my parents; and their words hurt me. I don't want to be in the same room with them—at least for now that my heart is still raging with emotions; since I know when I do, I gotta be either faking myself or facing painful judgements for being true.

I am the rebel of the family. I am the daughter with tattoos whom once got kicked out of school, ditched my elegant violin classes and can never bring anything but headache to the family until I finally find a worthy man who is willing to marry me. I am the child denying her heartache and seeking attention and validation through reckless behaviour. I should be fixed. Or so my family thought.

So when I posted a dance video with inappropriate moves: how immature of me! Quoting my mum: "You are soon going to be taken as a wife, why do you keep doing something so shameless?"

Little did they know, the path from me trying to muster up courage, train, all the way until I hit the post button: nothing is easy. The insecurities I have to fight, the fear of people's reaction, the nervousness of myself to never be able to perform it well—every single of them burdens me. But I did it anyway. Because I love it!

Dancing is the only thing that keeps me feel alive. I express myself in such dancing, and I don't want to feel sorry for it! It's true that there are many other kinds of dancing out there, and I have been learning some—then I find the one I like the most. Unfortunately, apparently it is the inappropriate one.

It's like when a little girl asked what she wanna be when she grows up, and she answers "a teacher", but then instead of getting support, her parents complained, "why just a teacher? You are smart enough, why don't you just be a doctor?"

On top of all, can't I just be a wife who is bold enough to twerk to the music she likes?

I remember one time my brother sat down with me in our family car, there were only the two of us that night. My brother is the typical ideal child my parents envisioned; a total opposite of me. He sighed and asked with a serious face, "what is your unspoken heatache?"

I looked back at him, a little lost. "What?"

"You know, everyone has their own unspoken heartaches deep inside them, it is what triggers them to act recklessly," he answered.

Oh, he means what caused me to become a fucked-up.

"Like our uncle Y, his heartache is feeling abandoned by his parents by the time he got into high school and started living with us." My brother continued.

See? A fucked-up.

"How do you even know that?" I asked, trying to sound as flat as I could.

He lifted his shoulders hastily. "So what's yours?"

"I don't know," I answered, hesitated. "I never actually gave it a thought." Or maybe I was too scared to be honest with my own brother, the perfect child of the family.

"It's there somewhere," he said again, "you know, the thing that made you acting like someone who is not you."

Now I know it wasn't fear that I had in the back of my head that time.

"Excuse me? What makes you think this is not the real me?"

I didn't trust my brother enough. I didn't trust him to be fair with me and giving zero judgements to my decisions, because of course, afterall, I am just the rebel of the family.

I am familiar with darkness now. I might have always been. Darkness was the only one accompanying me when I tried to bite my own tongue, picturing the kind of person I should be instead of the one I wanna be. All of my dreams and unspoken wishes are all swallowed down into a pit of darkness. Darkness knows me as I am also close to it.

I am also aware that darkness is not what they want. Darkness is too gloomy and scary and evil. They want me to be a light. But the more I try to be one, the more I grow closer to the dark.

Afterall, what is light without darkness?

Love is the answer. Love sparkled between me and my man. But long before that, love came through other things to my hand. Beneath the darkest dark, I find love to myself: to the girl wetting her pillow to sleep, to the grumpy whom temper so hard to keep, to the dreamer refuses to wake up, to the wanderer waiting to be set free, to the rebel of her family.

But why, if they love me, do they only see the love that makes me weak?

It's funny when I first move back from Bali, everyone asks why but then straightly answers themselves: because I am losing it! And then my brother face surfaces in the back of my head, I see him in every person doing so: "You are not who you are!"

My dear brother, and the rest of my family gathered in the livingroom, this is who I am. Bali didn't change me, it pushed me to be true to myself, and to everyone. Bali made me fall in love with me by being me. And it might be the only thing that I've ever been so sure of in my entire life.

I went through all the trouble to explore different layers of darkness to finally be able to stand tall as myself. The imperfect woman with a bitter past, silenced wishes, and dreams for the future. I carry with myself a handful of butterflies that dances in my stomach everytime I get excited—mostly because of love.

Can't I just do what I love? Or even, can't I just love the idea of being myself with all the expressions and differences and values I choose to believe in? Right here, I am risking my life decisions, throwing a huge carreer opportunity to be with the love of my life—not merely as his wife, but as a whole person designing her own future; not to be some side kick trying not to ruin the big picture, but as my own heroine kicking asses; and mostly not only settling down as the rebel, but as an independent person who knows what she wants.

So please, don't let me lose myself to the things I'm never meant to be.

#finding myself #bananayue #heartbreak #love #family #struggle #slice of life

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abnahaya · 6 years

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How I Deal With Conservative Environment

"Surprisingly, Donald Trump just made a good call..." my mum said out of the blue when we were driving back to our house from a choir rehearsal for a church colleague's holy matrimony last night. I almost couldn't believe what I heard.

"What did he do?" I asked her, mixed between curious and pessimistic.

"He banned LGBTQ (transgenders people to serve in military) and brought the policy for schools to start the day with prayers again," my mum answered. Again, I couldn't believe what I just heard. I wasn't surprised about Trump's decision, because, oh well you know... But my mum actually thought it was a good, no wait—wonderful decision; this was new.

"He did?" A lady from our church who drived with us joined the conversation, "Despite of his bad image, he's a respectable Christian, no?"

"A fanatic, actually." I tried to correct her.

"Well yes, he's a fanatic, but don't you think that was what brought him to win the election? He's trying to bring back Christianity to the land of the red and blue," my mum replied.

I just stared at her with a I-can't-believe-you-just-support-Trump look on my face, with a dropped jaw too, because it was just ridiculous.

And no, I didn't say it at that time because I didn't want to start a long argue about Christianity and conservatism, plus LGBTQ and the state's stand towards the people's religion, etc. I was too tired for all of those.

Instead, I spent the last 15 minutes of our drive to think about how tf my mum thought it was a good freakin idea to take freedom away from LGBTQA community? I mean, starting the schools in morning prayer was more understandable for her to support since Indonesia had always been a country that holds (too) tightly to religions too, and it could be more difficult for her to comprehend US' liberality—also more complicated to explain otherwise, although still, it was Trump we were talking about.

I would talk about how the policy of "starting the school with prayer" was actually not exactly a neutral decision for a government to make, despite of whatever religion the country/school believed in. That would need a whole different discussion with acoountable references, so let's just drop it right there for now.

However, what I wanted to to talk about from the first place, and it was exactly the reason why mum supports Trump on that particular policy was something called conservatism.

If we don't see it politically, conservatism means the tendency to prefer an existing or traditional situation to change (Merriam-Webster). So for conservatives, tradition is a vital capstone to asses situations, aside from how much things have developed since the first time the traditions were found. They are also tend to look up to one institution as a basis of their preservance, such as religion, culture, or even law. So yeah, as you can easily conclude: my mum —and probably most of my family are conservatives.

My mum's conservative view on Christianity lead her to oppose LGBTQ, and sex before marriage, and the idea that a woman should still get married and "get a man" to complete her life, and that elder people are supposed to be served by youngsters, and so on. I'm not implying that being conservative is a bad thing, I guess some people hold on to it and have a good life still. However, as someone who is not a conservative, living among many conservative people (re: my family), extra efforts are needed to cope with it and not becoming insane.

Trace back

The closest and oldest conservative I can trace is my grandmother from my mom —actually from both parents but the granny from my mom's side is wayy more talkative and stubborn, so yeah, I'm gonna pick her and her daughter (aka my mum) as the example in this discussion. When my fiance and I went to her place on Easter, he put his head on my lap while I was cleaning his black pores (talking about relationship goals!) and my granny yelled from accross the room, freaking out, I couldn't hear what she was talking about so I didn't do anything. A few hours later, when my fiance was aready asleep, she pulled me and gave some love advices: never let a man who is not your husband to touch your bare skin, esp on chest and thigh area, for men are easily deceived by the devil and women are weak towards men. (No kidding, it was the literal translation to what she told me) Again, I had my jaw dropped, but no rebuttal because I couldn''t afford to have another endless argues.

On another occasion when we were alone, my grandmother told me old stories aout how she grew up; then suddenly her conservatism felt less intense. So she basically grew up in a home with a lot of children, real siblings and cousins and even distant relatives lived together —which was a common thing back then; and she had been burdened with houseworks since early age: she bathed a newborn baby when she was in the 6th grade, she cooked for literally everyone, she did all the chores, and the best part was that she wasn't permitted to meet and talk with ANY guy other than relatives (even not all relatives) and forbidden from enrolling school activities beside the regular study. My first responses? 1) Jaw dropped; 2) Thinking "where the fuck all the adults? How come there are only all children and probably two adults at home?"; 3) How did she get through all of those without getting nuts?; 4) No wonder she's so strict about everything, sometimes to the point that it doesn't make sense to me.

The fourth point is probably the most important one.

Respect

Well, after I heard how my grandma was raised and then how my mum was raised (which was pretty much the same, but more understandable), it became easier for me to understand them; like why they made such rules, responded to a particular issue in a particular way, what they would like and what they hated the most, etc. I didn't think out loud like "why tf would you....?!" As much as I used to, probably because I already knew the answer to that question, which was: because they were raised like that, genius!

So I tried my best not to be a huge asshole towards them, and respect their principal; not only because I am a nice bitch who digged to someone's past and understand their reasonings, but also because I would want my values to be respected too, and how else I would be able to get that if I didnt start respecting others' values as well?

Find Your Rebel Stance

I always hated old teachings to "respect" elders which often misled to "be a servant when you're younger" and got a label of "the rebel child" for it. But again, when understanding my elders, I know that our definitions had differed from the start, and then I thought again, weren't we all rebels to our elders?

I gained so much weight that all my pants were too tight, some were even tored apart (on the crotch, yikes!), and all of my shorts became even shorter until some couldn't even cover my legs anymore—practically they looked like bikini shorts. So one day, my grandma came to our house and I was wearing my lazy short–which had become super short-lazy shorts by that time; and again, she freaked out. She told me that I might as well go around the house naked because I had showed so much skin and that —this was also the best part– it was the reason why women got raped (re: wearing revealing clothes). My mum was in the room and raised her voice, defending me, saying that it wasn't true that women (wearing revealing clothes) to be the reason of rapes, and women were free to wear whatever they want. I was like:

At that point, my mum was a rebel towards my grandma too, just like how I was a rebel towards both of them. We all have the rebellious part in us, somehow, even though some were too small to be recognized and some are too obvious to ignore. Why you ask? Generation gap. If you noticed it as much as I do, there was a progress between my grandma's values and my mum's, and of course mine. Values and ideas are constantly changing along with new eras. And these changes are getting easier to access. I have always been a feminist, but I didn't know what actually being a feminist should be until only recently; when women's era to speak up came and supported by all of the social media campaign which were all a lot easier to find.

Accept and React

My mum stopped following the changes of this era at some points: she didn't want to learn to use complex technology devices (she couldn't even change the TV channel!), didn't read the news created by youth—because they weren't her 'taste' anymore; not to mention my grandma. And I feel it too! This is basically still my era, but I'm getting closer to be a grown adult and when I look at today's teenagers—I just don't get them, you know what I mean? I probably stopped following teenagers' interests (and burried them deep down somewhere) a while ago, and that could make me a teenager conservative. I feel sorry for my future children already. LOL

So the cheesiest thing I can advice you, which may also make you question why you kept on reading this post when it finally reaches an anti-climax point instead of a groundbreaking suggestion; is that we just have to accept those conservatives motherfuckers (including us, maybe, in some ways) and use the greatest gift mankind ever has (re: brain) to react. I love my family, but when their conservative side is popping out, I feel like slamming my head off the wall and go berserk—but that's just my emotional side, the heart; so instead, I use my brain and chant a typical mantra that everything's gonna be alright and nothing's gonna bring me down, I just gotta be a good daughter/granddaughter/friend/neighbour for now, but it's not gonna shake my own belief on...(fill in what's the case) while choosing what's the best reaction for it. If my grandma who thinks women wearing miniskirts aren't respectable can accept her grand daughter and her spouse having loads of tattoos (despite of how she keeps nagging abt it), then why can us do the other way around?

I mean, there's no exact formula of what we're supposed to do; this ain't math (and that's why I'm good at this!). It's always contextual. There are times when I choose to follow what the conservatives want to avoid long, painful and tiring arguments (which I most likely would lose, because I'm still young!—sarcasm intended) but there are also occassions when I just couldn't accept the conservative thinking and let them know what my opinion towards the case is (mostly whilst praying they could respect it and not making a bigger fuss). However, if there is one exact thing to do regarding this issue: that is to keep learning.

Yeah a person with a firm principal is cool, but have you heard about a person who builds their own principal based on facts and deep knowledge of things?

You don't have to go to school and get another degree to be a person with sharp mind and deep understandings. Life is our greatest teacher, well actually life is that one teacher who does whatever they please just to make you get the lesson—the asshole teacher, but hey; life teaches us for free! You just need to be open minded and humble enough to acknowledge that you'll never know everything and you have to keep learning for the rest of your life.

At least it's fun—most of the times!

And that's kids, is how I met your—I mean how I deal with my conservative family and environment which do not support my life values and principle but I can't tell them to fuck off as I like because somehow they are supposed to stay in my life for good.

Cheers!

#bananayue #conservatism #conservative family #life hacks #social life #principle

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abnahaya · 6 years

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have you heard about Galentine’s Day, or my girl gang?

I’m quite sad that I just missed the Galentine’s Day. It is, in the words of comedian Amy Poehler, “only the best day of the year!” It sprang into being in 2010 –on American television –and takes place on Valentine’s Day eve, 13 February. It is the brainchild of Poehler’s Parks and Recreation alter ego, Leslie Knope: a celebration of one’s gal-friends.

Basically, Galentine —most probably a mixture of the words; Gal and Valentine— is the day to show your girl squad how you love them. Because why the heck not? What started as a sitcom joke has become a powerful buzzword that swept the internet and united women all over the world. Yes, Galentine’s Day is already adopted into real life by women who love their bffs.

Parks and Recreation may not be my choice of TV show back in 2010. I was a huge gamer back then. So please excuse me for just finding out about Galentine’s Day now—and loving it. But I think, with the huge progress in feminist movements recently, it does get easier to access information about issues concerning women.

The great thing about Galentine’s Day is that you don’t have to be single or not single to celebrate it. It’s for any woman who feels that no one has had such power to sustain her (or make her feel as unadulteratedly wonderful about herself) as her platonic pals. Because boys come and go, but friends are forever. Hoes before bros, and all that.

Hey, female friendship is tough. Do you realize how most of the villains in a story are women? Not implying to be sexist—I can explain a whole lot about how patriarchy make a shift on women’s value; but yeah, it is known that women can be pure evil at times. There is a trend in Indonesia recently about pelakor (side chick); when you put this keyword, you’d see women’s true rage. How nasty they can be with each other. And I tell you, it’s not nice, at all.

Aside from my opposing position towards how women should actually cope with the side-chick issue, I do think that this phenomenon unfortunately confirms the labels on female interactions. I believe it is no longer a secret that female friendship is often considered fake, manipulative, mean, selfish, etc. However, I also think that it is better to give no fuck to the stigma, and do what Galentine’s Day wants us to do: encourage and love each other. Because:

Afterall, this is what feminist is all about. We are encouraging each other to be the best version of the women we are, because we are never any lesser than anyone. And look how far it has taken us up until now! Love your girls, it matters!

Since this is a personal blog, I’d like to share my personal experience regarding this matter. When reading about Galentine’s Day, my mind immediately fly to these girls—we call ourselves the Hobbits:

It’s an old photo, don’t bother wondering. ANYWAY. I knew these girls since the 2010s (just when the Galentine’s popped up, what a coincidende!)—except the one on my right, because we were high school friends. We all went to universities in Bandung, although I was the only one going to a different uni—and took a different course, too. In 2011, I had to move to Salatiga because, well, shit happened; but our friendship had never ended ever since.

Five of us are so different; either in personality, fashion taste, boyfriend-materials preferences, or life goals. But there is one thing we have in common: we love each other and therefore never ceased to encourage each other. And that never goes wrong.

Even though I was the only one “different”—either from the uni, major, or the geographical position.; never once I feel like an estranged member. Whenever any of us makes a stupid mistake—because who doesn’t?—no one talks behind her back and telling how stupid she is. If we don’t have anything nice to say, we say nothing.

This friendship has never been more positive, and believe me, it gave me a lot of mental support during my dark days. Like, there were days when I literally lost all my friends and they were all I had got; even though we were miles apart with each other, but never once we let each other feel like being left out. I just love this girls so much.

So not all the female-friendship are dramas. And yes, girls, you can actually build an all-female-drama-free-squad. Our days are here and let’s not encourage the shitty labels on ourselves; encourage each other instead! Let’s not overrating Valentine’s Day, celebrate a Galentine’s Day too! Because who runs the world?

Girls!

#Galentine's Day #girls #feminism #feminist #love #friendship #girlsquad #bananayue

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abnahaya · 6 years

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#WakandaForever

The movie with (almost) no critics. Everyone seems to love The Black Panther! As it is said as the huge leap on Marvel’s superhero movies lane. Not only because it represents the first Marvel’s black superhero and all of the richness of the continent, but also as a movie filled with values and idealism.

Lemme tell you the plot shortly. After the death of T’Chaka, the king of Wakanda in the UN Conference—as it was potrayed in the movie Civil War— his son, T’Challa took the throne and therefore faced into political problems; as it was indicated early int he movie by his ex gf and the nation’s skilled spy, Nakia when saying that she couldn’t sit around—and be a queen when there are many of ‘their’ people suffered. Well, as a nation built on the most precious metal on earth—vibranium, obvs—Wakanda had been developed so well by its own, maybe even more than other countries in the world; but they kept it for themselves, disguising as a lowkey 3rd-world farming country. But little did T’Challa know that this matter wasn’t only the reason he didn’t have a queen by his coronation day, but also a part of (one of) his father’s dark secret.

Long ago, when T’Chaka was still in power, he had his baby brother as the Nation’s spy in California. Unfortunately, N’jobu fell in love with an American woman and had a child with her; and eventually got radicalized by the marginalization they suffered in the U.S. So in short, he was basically the source of the mess in Wakanda caused by a psychopath named Klaue who stole a quarter ton of vibranium. T’Chaka caught him red handed by the help of another spy, Zuri—who later became the shaman in the country—and ended up killing him. The kid N’jobu left—and both T’Chaka and Zuri did too, in order to keep the Wakanda secret safe—held a grudge and grew to a powerful man who swore to took revenge not only to the country, but to the entire world.

The rest is pretty clear. T’Challa met his new enemy, he got beaten up first—but survived and came back in style. There was a division in the country itself; when the military fully supported N’Jadaka —or better known as Killmonger, the abandoned kid. A CIA agent who was saved and gave his support to the previous throne, a genius baby-sister, loyal general, huge ass rhinos, and surprisingly-funny Head tribe of Jabari—which used to isolate themselves from 4 other tribes forming Wakanda. Believe me, I’d love to write about all of these amazing characters and how well they were developed in the movie, but my article would be an essay by then. And if you wonder how far I’d go with the spoiler: Black Panther wins.

T’Challa then made a new breakthrough for Wakanda: they are no longer hiding in the dark. Wakanda is going to lead other nation, not by colonizing, but by sharing their knowledge and resources; to build a better, kind world. So yeah, basically he also secures the queen’s place by doing it.

Do you feel it stings somewhere?

So, next I’m going to tell you why I love this movie to the point of writing about it in my personal blog. No, it’s not going about Trump and his walls; I’m also not going to talk about the social effects of this movie—like how it elevates the African culture and unites all the African descendants—since I’m not (yet) directly involved in such issues.

(Altho, regarding the African culture in the movie I’d say: I’d love to have all the mixtapes in the movie like, Zhuri’s lab playlist sounds so dope! I can literally dance through the whole BGMs during the movie.)

Since this is a personal blog, obvs, I’d talk about the relatable stuffs from my own life. And this movie speaks to me like the Lord’s Testaments!

First of all: parents are humans. Like Nakia said to T’Challa when he was in shock after learning about his father’s dark secret: “No man is perfect, including your father.” Preach, sister! I took it to the heart. And yes, T’Challa, I feel you. I live between the tradition that requires lots of respects to the elders. I don’t say that I disagree this, but sometimes the tradition shifts into worshiping the elders. I have a pair of wonderful parents, and I grow up believing in them and their house rules, they are so perfect in my eyes. And then disagreements happens, many of them, and I used to think that it was all on me; as if I has never been able to be a good daughter. Because ofc, the elders are always right. And just like T’Challa, I was so shock and sad and disappointed—and other mixed feelings so disturbing to describe when I learned about my parents flaws. I even came to a point where I was so angry I felt sick whenever my parents started talking to me. And then I realize that I am just growing up, and my parents are growing old. Means that I am filled with new individual experiences that my parents never have, while they are slowing down and tend to choose to be comfortable by repeating what they are familiar with. And whatever wrongs they did in the past, does not lessen their worth—or mine. For example: my dad didn’t like vacations, he thought the only reason we should go out is to learn. So we went to museums and exhibitions, but hardly ever to the amusement park or malls. I love traveling. When I found the joy of discovering an unknown land, even merely to laze around in the beach, I thought to myself, “how tf my parents never do this?” even now, my dad still prefers to stay home; and it’s okay.

T’Challa starts a revolution for his country, I can start one in my life, too. By the time he declares to step out from the dark and lend a hand to the world, one thing comes to my mind: global citizen. Yes people, today it is not about you and whatever surrounds you anymore. Globalization is here! We are able to know what happens in the other side of the world, and therefore expected to do something about it instead of just watching in the dark. Many things are coming and going to attack us not as a tribe or a country, but also earthlings. Wakanda took the chances, why can’t we? As if in my personal life, I’m preparing to leave my country and becoming a citizen of another country in the future. My children won’t be necessarily address themselves as Indonesian or Australian; they are both. Imagine what would happen to my great-great-great-great grandchildren? One thing for sure, they are going to be the citizen of the world. And I hope, by then, the people of the earth will no longer worry about the racial, economical or geographical differences like the noble speech T’Challa delivered:

"Wakanda will no longer watch from the shadows. We cannot. We must not. We will work to be an example of how we as brothers and sisters on this Earth should treat each other. Now, more than ever, the illusions of division threaten our very existence. We all know the truth: more connects us than separates us. But in times of crisis the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look after one another as if we were one single tribe."

And you wonder why this movie gets so many praises? Please.

#black panther #spoiler #movie review #wakanda forever #bananayue

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abnahaya · 6 years

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30 days writing challenge #4—Andrea Corr as my inspiration

I have been waiting for the chance to write about this! Although I did mention about how she inspires me on one of my post a while ago here. Basically, I am who I am today because of her, not quite literally, but she influences me in so many things that I can’t imagine how I’d turn up to be without it. So I’m gonna put on a list of the things I learn from fangirling on Andrea Corr:

I speak English fluently. One of my most favorite bands is The Corrs, I grow up listening to their songs, mostly, at that time, I couldn’t understand. Therefore I tried to look up for the meanings of the words (from the songs) that sounds unfamiliar, and also I re-winded my cassette over and over again,just to listen of the pronunciation. Many times, I would watch the documentation of The Corrs’ concerts and try to imitate the way Andrea talked. Years after those, I realize that all of those things help me a lot in developing my English skills: I know broad vocabularies, I can understand British accent easier, I talk in a quite gallant way for a non-English speaker, etc.

I am encouraged that sexiness doesn’t only come from physical form. I think I have mentioned several times before, that I am fond of sexiness. I wasn’t born sexy, I had tons of self-esteem issues, I didn’t even think that I was pretty, but I like sexiness and I want to be sexy. Andrea Corr showed me that being sexy doesn’t mean you have to go mainstream, showing off your body (although it is a pleasure, sometimes!) or acting like a slut. Andrea was my icon of sexiness, it looked like she made no efforts to be sexy. I can feel her aura from the way she moves, her gaze, her way of singing, even in a “normal” appearance. FYI, Andrea never dyes her hair or wear jeans, she even sings barefoot on most of The Corrs’ concerts, so quite anti-mainstream to me.

Andrea writes beautiful lyrics. I won’t say that my writings are beautiful, but at least they are quite enjoyable. Up until this moment, I am always amazed by the poetic lyrics she writes on their songs. And have I told you that all of their songs are very relatable to me?

She does what she likes. She sings, she acts, she made her own album, she gets married, she does duets with people whom I never be able to guess. (I mean, Andrea Corr and Josh Groban?) I had this thought a few years back, that I was given so many talents until I don’t know what I should do with them. Looking at Andrea Corr, I didn’t feel so alone, she might not excel in everything she does, but she is good at them, and she goes with it. Sure, people won’t compare Andrea’s part of acting in Evita with Madonna, who plays in the same movie, but she acts anyway. So yeah, I’m sorry that I’m not that ambitious and wanting to rule the world with what I can do, I just want to be like Andrea Corr who does what she likes to do and enjoys it when it lasts.

Skipping the part of how I love her smile, cheerful-childish-nature, her tone while talking in interviews, and so on, I think those are the big influences I get from Andrea Corr. Better singer, actor, celebrities may keep showing up but for me, Andrea Corr will always be my inspiration.

#30 days writing challenge #day 4 #my inspiration #andrea corr #inspiring person #role model #idol #the corrs #bananayue

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abnahaya · 6 years

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30 Days Writing Challenge #22—3 First Songs on Shuffle

I am sorry but this is my playlist for a few weeks. So however the shuffle is, they're gonna play the same song anyway .

#30 days writing challenge #day 21 #songs on playlist #bananayue

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abnahaya · 6 years

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30 days writing challenge #7—10 songs I currently love

I dunno if this is gonna be the hardest or easiest thing to write. I listen to music everyday, I literally can’t go on a day without music, but there are tons of music that I listen to. I basically like almost every genre, I listen to the songs according to my mood so~ I’ll try my best in listing the top 10 song, for now.

Ed Sheeran - Perfect. I am currently in a lovey-dovey state since my romance is going well, so when I heard the song —typical honest and catch Ed’s style, I can’t not love it. There are some versions of this song and although I love the duet Ed does with Beyonce, I keep playing the version he does with Andrea Bocelli.

DJ Snake ft. Lauv - A Different Way. This song just won’t get out of my head for months! And I blame myself for checking up on DJ Snake’s snapchat and instagram stories everyday for that. I am planning to make a simple choreo for this song too, btw.

Major Lazer & DJ Maphorisa ft. Nasty C, Ice Prince, Patoranking & Jidenna - Particula. I mentioned that I fell in love wih dancehall and afrobeat songs before. Major Lazer never leaves my playlist eversince their song Watch out for This (Bumaye). And this is just one of their songs that always on top of my list!

Bruno Mars ft. Cardi B - Finesse (remix). It was really hard to finally move on from 24k’s catchy songs and suddenly Bruno released a remix version with Cardi B! Not fair!

Eminem ft. Beyonce - Walk on Water. one word: LEGEND.

Little Mix ft. CNCO - Reggaeton Lento. Everytime this song comes up, I just need to stop whatever what I’m doing and fucking dance, like moooveeeee it gurrrrrl!!!! This song lilghts up the imaginary atmosphere of a musical life or somewhat, where you just literally dance and sing everytime, in a sexy way.

Dua Lipa - New Rules. Hands up if this song hasn’t left your head!

Will Singe - Wild Thoughts x Maria Maria. I worship Will Singe, and when I put him on the playlist, it means no one else is going to be in t (except anyone he’s featured with) and also, I listen to Will Singe x Alex Aiono sing off EVERY TIME.

The Corrs - Angel. I am a long-life fan of The Corrs and I always sing their songs in the shower. My song choice is usually random and since I like all their songs equally, I’d just put on the one I sing recently. Also because Andrea looks so cute in the music video, you’re welcome.

Natalie Imbruglia - Torn. Another bathroom karaoke song. Never gonna get old.

There are just soooo many other songs that I can’t fit in the list. It gets harder and harder to write them down since random titles keep popping in my head (stopped putting an order since no. 2) but yeah, basically these are the songs you’re gonna hear when I’m putting a playlist.

#30 days writing challenge #day 7 #10 songs I love #list of 10 current favorite songs #bananayue

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abnahaya · 5 years

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A clapback to the haters.

After a few months, I decided to check my ask.fm page out of nowhere. There are a few questions waiting on my notification board, obviously, and all I had in mind was just to have a little random fun answering them, ‘cause you know, I don’t get asked that often irl (insert sad gif here). All of the questions are anonymous and I didn’t care that much, just like me, I thought they might also just asked questions randomly.

Several questions later, I stumbled into these:

trans: you’re getting fatter with fat jiggling everywhere. are you on birth control pills?

trans: don’t be cocky, using English, trying to look beautiful when you’re so fat. You’re getting fatter because you fuck your Caucasian bf a lot, right? lol.

I was shook.

I mean, who went an extra mile finding my dusty ask.fm page which I didn’t put anywhere on my social media, just to insult me?

My immediate response was exactly what I typed for the answers to both “questions”: wow, I’ve got a hater! Because honestly, I can’t think of anyone who could be that keen to do that to me. I ain’t no celebrity, heck I don’t even get many answers when I put up a question or polling on instagram, and basically what I post on social media are never in purpose to offend anyone. Not to mention this guy was being very precise and personal, too.

So just like any other cool dudes and dudettes, I try to shake it off.

I literally was saying to myself in the kitchen, it’s no big deal. This doesn’t affect me because whatever this person say can’t describe me. I know myself. I know what I’ve been through and unlike this person, I don’t glorify the physical appearance because it is more than that.

But you know what? I was hurt.

Despite of any of the affirmations I said to myself, I realize a part of me was like squeezed inside, letting go of some insecurities. Just like as life is giving me a lemon puree. At one point I wanna just post the screenshot and say “oh fuck off if you don’t know me!” But what good does it makes?

I realized what cruel comments makes me do, I became defensive. I wanted to try everything to convince them, or even other people, that I’m not what they said. I became so defensive because I didn’t want to feel ashamed by the accusations and therefore I needed to look cool and “slay like a queen”.

Then I remember the imaginary interview I had yesterday (yes, I do this a lot when I’m alone), I might have been trying too hard in concealing my sensitive, insecure side because I thought of them as weaknesses. And what I really want is not to be cool and give major clapbacks to haters, in fact it doesn’t have anything to do with anyone else but myself. I need to acknowledge my process of self-acceptance, self-love, and self-respect in order to be the bet version of myself. And that includes embracing the uncool me and all the flaws I have.

Instead of trying to look cool and defend my pride (and most probably looks completely silly for it), I choose to write this post, let go of my negative feelings and empower. Not because I conquer my insecurities, but I have come to term with it by believing that I can gradually overcome it with so many kindness around me. I can keep my chin up because I am in peace with myself.

If you’re reading this post and you remember the times when you are saddened by hateful comments towards your body or your life, I am with you. It is okay to feel negative emotions, humans don’t have a system that can automatically turning on/off our feelings. Your feelings are evidence that you are alive. Embrace it. I know it sucks and it feels hard many times, but you will heal. It’s always a journey but you will come to love your body, your life, your entire existence in this universe.

Baby, this world is filled with assholes, but you ain’t one. So be kind to yourself. Then be kind to others.

Also remember what barbie said, not today, satan! I mean:

#self love #body shaming #love yourself #bananayue

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abnahaya · 6 years

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Being comfortable in my own skin.

I had been believing that I was born an ugly duckling and needed a "puberty hits me like a truck" moment to transform as a beautiful swan. I wished the time for me to become tall, fair, slim with perfect skin and silky straight hair would come, preferably faster. FYI, puberty didn't hit me like a truck, instead, it dragged me down a rough road towards self-acceptance.

I grew up hating my dark skin and curly hair; when I was in high school, I stuffed a HUGE padding to make my breast looked bigger; I tried to look like a tomboy to hide my insecurity for not being "naturally pretty"; I put on heavy loads of make up to cover my blemishes—and I ended up trying to seek recognition from boys to justify my attractiveness, but we'll talk about this later. I always considered myself as the opposite of beutiful and therefore needed a lot of extra efforts to become so.

When I mentioned "a rough road towards self-acceptance" in the first paragraph, I meant it. However, today I realized that what made the road so rough was 80% of society judgement, and 20% my inner self agreeing to those judgements. It was hard not to believe on those judgements, even when I know I shouldn't listened to them—that most of them were bullshits; because I never had any support on my side of not-supposed-to-get-judged thoughts.

One of my lowest points was when I entered Junior High School, I remember how it hurt so much when I overheard a friend of mine talking to another friend about "how ugly I was in my new haircut". Sleek straight hair was a hit back then, and hair straighteners wasn't a thing just yet (even if it was, I doubted that my parents would buy me one), so my messy curly hair was a turn off; I tried to cut it short hoping the curl would dissapear but apparently it just made it worse. My aunt was probably the only one I could remember as a person whom trying to cheer me up, saying that I should be proud of my uniqueness, because supermodels were chosen based on their unique features (beside their height, and body weight, that time) instead of the mainstream beauty standards. But of course, I was just a Junior High School sudent, and girls my age didn't have a clue about what was so-called self-uniqueness.

I've dated sixteen guys so far, and I can say 13 of them weren't so happy about my physical condition. Funny, right? They always complained about how fat my tummy was; how I was supposed not to reveal too much skin–because no one wanted to see the not-so-attractive skin anyway, they said; my frizzy hair; my skin for being too dark for a girl; the black spots on my face when I erased my make up; my make up; even the pictures I uploaded that they claimed "too different from the real person". I know, I also wondered what made them stayed in the relationship if I was so physically disapoointing (maybe the sex skills? Lol), but moreover, I wondered what made me stay and believe them—to the point of trying to change myself for them; but again, that's another story.

Twenty years hearing the same thing over and over again, even from the people I love the most, made me believe the shit. I knew, logically, I would never reach the beauty standard unless I did some unnatural procedures like surgery or skin bleaching or some sort; still I tried to be less different and more alike to what society wanted me to look like. And that was a painful twenty years.

So how did I manage to break free?

I go out and meet more people. At first, it was still annoying to see so many people are more beautiful than me—also how they were blessed with acne-free skin or the "never be able to get fat" genes; and then I met people whom I subjectively (and secretly) considered less beautiful than me, not gonna lie, it made me feel a little bit better. It didn't stop there, I also met people whom again, I subjectively judged as lesser than myself, but has better charisma; this got me thinking, "how do they do that? Are they really confident or only being ignorant of their appearance?"

And then my self-conscious ass met nice people who thought that I was attractive with all I have. I was sceptical at first: I didn't want to wear a swimsuit in front of them, I woke up twice earlier to get ready, I wanted to keep the lights off during sex; but they keep telling me: stop doing that, you're beautiful. Even the girls hugged me and told me how they loved me, and that they wanted the best for me because I deserved it. Believe it or not, it always made me moved to tears.

And then I just snapped. I looked around and saw so many different people, and they all were beautiful in their own ways. I then looked at the mirror, and saw myself—not as the transformed swan, or "puberty hitted me like a truck" result, just me as a whole. Beautiful in my own way.

Apparently to find my own beauty, I have to admit that beauty is a general word. It is owned by everyone, in every ways. It is not something exclusive, it is just something so diverse that no one should ever set a standard.

I don't want to be fair skinned or tiny thin anymore now. I still wear make up because I love it, not because I want to hide my true face. I know myself and proud of my own version of beautiful.

Sadly, it doesn't end there either. Many people are still driven by the long-believed standards of beauty. Even when I have no problem with my current self, I still get a lot of comments towards my look. For some people (even family), I am still too fat/too dark-skinned/ not feminine enough/ not graceful enough, and so on.

Well, what is life if it doesn't keep you do hard works just to be happy?

My advice is: tell those people that you are happy. Better yet, show them. Yes, they will still find other excuses to bring your self-esteem down, but never let them. It's your life and your body, once you're comfortable with it, only good things come out of it. You can always tackle the haters!

My mum still thinks I'm too fat, that I have huge thighs—even bigger than her, and she's twice my age! But you know what? I love being thicc. Oh yes, big thighs don't let me wear mainstream skinny jeans (and some leggings) but these thigh are trained every day and they are beautiful, I know it. So I tell my mum, why bother with my thicc thighs? I look sexy with them and I enjoy it (mum only rolls her eyes on this rebuttal).

When you are comfortable in your own skin, you'll feel less insecure and gain much more confidence. And believe me, confidence is the basic recipe of looking beautiful all the time! So never stop falling in love with yourself and acknowledging your own beauty.

Cheers!

#bananayue #beauty #slice of life #life hack #body shaming

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