Reading · Andrealism: Notes from a Creative Maker

I turn fifty in five months.

Well, four and a half months to be exact. Soon enough.

I remember being eighteen, on the last day of school, I stood on a different threshold, leading me into adulthood. I wondered how fifty would look like for me.

Fifty seemed like so far away back then. So old, from an eighteen-year-old’s perspective, who has yet to truly experience life as an adult.

Being one with much imagination, I had romanticised that by fifty, I’d be a successful novelist, living a happy life abroad, far away from my hometown in Sarawak, Malaysia.

At that age, I wanted to be a writer and see the world. Maybe also live a somewhat nomadic writerly life, even though I had no inkling or means to achieve the goal at that time.

My parents were old school; coming from a different generation and was raised by another one that were more traditional. So the plan for me was to ensure I have a stable job as a secretary, live a quiet life, be married before thirty, and have the necessary skills to maintain a household and to raise children.

I wasn’t mad or anything about their expectations. We were not rich. I understood the assignment. But I also – quietly – sought adventure. No one explicitly said I can’t.

So here I am, thirty-two years later, on the threshold to my fifties. Self-employed. Living a quiet life in a small rented condo, and a plane-ride away from my hometown. Unmarried. And yes, I do have the necessary skills to maintain a household, but I also made a choice about children.

Not exactly the life I had romanticised at eighteen as well. But I like to think that in a parallel universe, that version of Andrea exists, and I am happy for her.

In this universe, my reality in this lifetime place me where I am today. The adventure I sought before had brought me here. All the change of plans, all the things beyond my control, and the ones that were a little “reckless”: it led me here.

What I set in motion over the years has place me where I need to be when I reach this milestone. I believe all those experiences, knowledge, and lessons accumulated over time carry a certain weight for the next phase of my journey in life.

I turn fifty in less than five months.

Would the Me in 1994 be proud of the Me in 2025? I hope so.

My journey had been colourful and not-so-quiet, really. Definitely an adventure.

I am grateful for all the opportunities, gifts and blessings received. I eventually made peace with matters that didn’t turn out the way I hoped for, and with what will never be. I may have some scars but I did alright.

Would she respects this older version of her? Yes, I believe so.

Despite going through life making mistakes and doing a whole lot of not-so-smart and not-very-proud-of moves, I know I did my best. My misadventures redirected me to unexpected paths, including some very uncomfortable ones. I came out a little disoriented but I did alright too.

All in all, I am still privileged to be alive and well to continue and experience life.

I will be fifty.

Honestly, I’m excited. I feel there’s still so much to do, more adventures ahead, and hopefully filled with happier, positive experiences too!

Fifty is still young. The physical body may be aging, but fifty is young and still has plenty of room for growth.

Right now, as I sat at my kitchen table, typing this post: I wonder what will I become and embody as I continue to grow.

Oh, the possibilities!

So Here I Am

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