my mother scolds me for lacking a stiff upper lip. my reactions are too obvious. i don't have tough enough skin. she likens me to silken tofu that crumbles at the slightest touch of the wooden spoon in a wok. her index finger will point to and fro as she begins each of her sentences with, 'all i'm trying to say is...'
according to my mother, i am soft like tofu.
it's true in a sense. i feel with my gut and make decisions by instinct a lot of the time. if i'm afraid, i will hide. if you come too close, i will run away. if we fight, i will cry. if things break, i'll be the first to say sorry. if i'm tired, i won't cope. if i'm anxious, i will bite my nails. if i'm sad, i won't leave my bed. if i miss you, i will mope around waiting for you to call. if it's right, i'll not stop trying. if i love you, i know i'll never change my mind.
it's easy to call these the weaknesses of a girl who wears the heart of a romantic on her sleeve. but i'm not convinced they're all bad things all of the time. even if i am a mass of bean curd, i know i'm sometimes that rubbery, fried stuff you often find in pad thai - at the very least, can be a little bit hardy.
