New Year Special: Dollhouse & Hauntings


I haven’t had enough rest lately which explains my absence. I felt restless and empty. The past few days, I was all around town every evening attending to some business that I told myself was important. Exchanging names, palm to palm with strangers, Nice-To-Meet-You.

I rubbed shoulders with the young and successful and they all seem to know where to go. All pointing to directions I didn’t know. I was there, feeling a bit lost. Angry with myself for all the potential I have that didn’t seem to go anywhere.

I’ve put off writing because I was uninspired and I was frightened. I felt like I had to be something other than that, and so I tried to swim towards the shore before I could tell anyone how I feel.


‘You’ll never be good enough’


The wolves slaughtered you.



I don’t think there was any room for me to hurt considering I have a lot of things to be grateful for. I haven’t updated my progress too because I rot in the painful process of learning without having the results to show up for it.

Quietly, slipping a little bit, I felt the pangs of hopelessness grip on me. The veterans are losing money too, what chance do I even have?


The wolves slaughtered you.





‘The fool didn’t know it was impossible, so he did it.’

A tiny voice, that of a child, shrill and innocent called out quietly. She laughed and played with her dollhouse as she called me. Her precious toy at that age and her favourite. She was 8, and she was me.

I don’t remember what mattered back then when I was that young, except that I had enough today and tomorrow it’s going to be okay. I sat down and watched her move around without a worry in the world.

‘You’re intelligent and you’re beautiful.
Boys will be all over you, and you will be okay.’
She was always told, and she was reassured.


Celeste! Celeste!” She called out to me. Her palm open, beckoning me to come closer.

Oh, how tall I’m going to be!” She said as I was approaching, her eyes twinkling in admiration and happiness.
Well yes,” I replied with a smile. “Enough to make it a bit of a problem to wear heels on your first dates.”

For a moment, we sat in silence as the little girl– who was me– felt the quiet contentment that someday, when she’s 26, she would have been out on dates and wearing heels only her mother had been allowed to wear.

She scratched her chin padded with gauze. “26 is too far away! That feels like foreeeeveeeeer.”

Don’t worry, you’ll get there.” I said. “Faster than you think.”

I shifted my weight and watched her. She was absorbed again in her dolls, scolding them a bit for being late to her tea party.

What happened to your chin?” I asked.

She looked at me, “You don’t remember? Stitches! An accident.”

Mommy got very worried, and very, very sad.” She added sheepishly.

That’s terrible!” I said. “What did we get ourselves into?”

Oh, you know, I climbed the dinner table one evening and jumped as I shouted Darna!

I laughed! I do remember now. The memory flooded back in. I remember crying as I landed on my chin, my foot had tripped on the chair’s back rest.

“Dear me, why did I ever do that?” I said, smiling at the memory.

What do you mean why?” She asked back, her smile getting bigger now. “Don’t you remember, Celeste?

I really, really believed I could fly.




The New Year came and I still didn’t have time for myself. The inevitable is coming and trading is going to resume. This excites people like Zee. He’s been trying to fill in his time with cats and 9gag, and he misses trading.

I didn’t have the guts to tell him I’ve been losing faith on myself. That’s not what you want to tell someone who places their faith on you. I was in a position a lot of people would bleed for and there I was second-guessing myself.

I apologized time and again for the lack of presence I show. This was not the kind of person I want him to see me as. At my best, I swim gracefully through tides and storms. At my worst, I take the hits and endure.

But at the very least, I don’t quit.

“Don’t sweat it.” He told me, then sent me a picture about dogs.



What are you so afraid of?” Little Celeste asked me.

I smiled and carefully answered, “That I’m not good enough and I never will be.”

She was quiet for a minute, considering what I just said. Finally, she asked, “Will I ever be good enough?

And there I was watching a little girl who wanted to fly like a superhero, and I couldn’t tell her no. Her chin was padded with gauze, stitched up from trying to fly.

She was me.

What would you tell yourself if you could go back through time and you were 8?

Faced with a reflection of yourself full of hopes and wonder, would you tell the same thing you tell yourself now?



The wolves slaughtered you.

I’ve wrapped myself in a warm blanket of constant doubt and criticisms. What happened along the way, why did we turn out like this?
Stupid. Another red day.

Ignorant. Wrong entry.

Idiot. Bought at the highs.

Sheep. Cut your losses.
The wolves slaughtered you.


What would you tell yourself if you could go back through time and you were 8?



When did we stop being tender to ourselves? As a child, I would fall down- quite often- and that’s okay. I would get up and it didn’t mean I doubted my ability to walk the next time. Eventually, I stopped falling down.

Eventually, I ran.


What would you tell yourself if you could go back through time and you were 8?

That one day, your report card will be called a portfolio and how you feel about your worth and your will to get up the next day depends on that?

Stupid? Ignorant? Idiot?




I would tell myself that it’s okay, that it’s going to be okay. That the world got better anyway, and I did better than I really thought I would.

That I wasn’t going to fail chemistry, and that I wouldn’t die of heartbreak at 17. I would tell her that it really is going to be okay in the end, just like what every one said . The things that worried me this year would be the things I’m going to laugh about 5 years after and that I didn’t have to lose sleep crying over my anxieties worrying about reaching my dreams.

I would tell myself that my chin would heal eventually… No one would even notice the scar unless I tell them about it.


Why can’t I tell myself that now?
Why can’t you?

If I were 50 and I travelled back to myself at 26,
I would probably say it’s going to be okay as well.
The world didn’t stop spinning, the sun didn’t stop kissing the sky in the morning.


I held her tiny hands, still unscarred from a cooking accident I’m going to have when I’m 12. Her eyes were full of hopes and dreams. She still thinks air planes can land on clouds.

My heart open raw to the vulnerability of the moment, I told her,

Of course you are. You’re more than enough… and it will be okay.
Believing myself as I said it.


I stepped on the gas, determined to come home early that night. It’s going to be another day tomorrow. Even the veterans said the sky is falling. They’ve seen this before. Only the brave and the persistent can win. China’s market plummeted. DOW plunged too.

What chance do I even have?

But I have another reason to live on. I can’t say no to that little 8-year-old girl, chin plastered with gauze, playing with her dolls. Stitches for trying to fly.

I believe in her, and she believes in me.

I need to give her justice.

She was me.

I need to give myself faith.

Because she is still me.

I need to make myself proud at 50 telling myself that it went better than okay.

She will be me.

child 5 growing


A small child ran up to you asking if he could become who he wanted to be one day.

I don’t think you would ever say that he could not.

That small child is you.

Tell yourself the things you would tell him,
because even if you’re a lot taller now… 🙂

He’s still you.




Will you be okay?
Ofcourse you will be.




Forever yours,




What I listened to while writing:

Also, a marvelous video to remind you that the same child you do not want to hurt is you.

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