As a child, I always wondered how much cooler it would be to grow up and do “adult things”. Now as a teen, I realise how much of a f**k-up my life is. I don’t have goal or ambition I’m passionate about but I’m trying to find out what I would like to truly do. Not knowing what my future could possibly hold for me really scares me and I’m just so afraid of having to go through that.

NO, I can never be a 100% mom to you my little ones. I'm done with all the babywearing-and-breastfeeding-workshops season of my life. I tried to be 100%. I dedicated my two breasts to you when you were young. That's more than 6 years (3 years to each of you) —of nipple sucking every 4 hours round-the-clock.

But I also have my own dreams. I want something more than staying with you 24 hours a day 7 days a week. It's not that I am not happy seeing your smile. But I also want to be in a different room or go out and feel how to be a real human being. Now I have to deal with these anxieties. The question of who-am-I? is creeping in. Yes, I could be very skilled about motherhood but the other set of my characters are diminishing. I'm starting to forget how to be a real human, which is more important than just being a good mother.

I long to be a real human capable of being happy on these linear events. To see that on this linear world everyone can have that wonderful experience from simplicity—simple yet anew. To witness ideas and novelties that everyone is also curious to find out whether from the inside or from the other side.

Now you are 7 and 11. I'm still here to attend to your needs and it's my choice. I need to write it so I can somehow figure out the answers that I keep on looking for.

I don't want to escape this season, I promise. You are my joy. I will be your mother until graveyard. We are related. I will always love you more than you could imagine.