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For all the opportunities I have been blessed with, often as a result of my own shameless perseverance and scheming administration, I have never taken any for granted. In a twisted manner, I suppose my life couldn’t allow me to be complacent. It is scary when I’m reminded of how complacency is not a property a person like me can afford.

I was born into a modest (but sometimes struggling) middle-income family, to a pair of illiterate but astonishingly devoted parents who have slaved through most of their lives as hawkers. For the education I was to get which they were deprived of due to poverty, two decades in a physically punishing environment at a minimum of 12 hours a day, 6 days a week, was the sacrifice they have to make.

As a child, I didn’t have the luxuries most kids had – a new state-of-the-art mountain bike, swanky purple Eastpak haversack to house freshly minted textbooks, annual family trips to Europe, and what not. Don’t get me wrong, my family was never that poor that I had to work and quit school, but like I’ve mentioned, we were modest. That said however, having to wear the same uniform from primary 1 to 6, from age 7 to 12, was annoying. I didn’t like how the boys from my class ogled at my ‘mini skirt’. It’s disturbing to know that my PE t-shirt still fits today like a glove in spite of my boobs. My mum’s probably the thriftiest person I know, second only to the old lady who collects cardboards on her squeaking pushcart at Ann Siang Hill.

My parents’ inability to read or write in English fueled both my insecurity and independence as a child. Their bank statements were mine to read by the age of 11. When it dawned upon me in the later period of my reckless adolescent years as a teenager that my folks haven’t exactly got the whos-who connections or deep pockets to save me should I have fucked up, I got myself a tutor whom I shall remain forever indebted to. It was a mere 3 months before my do-or-die GCE O’ levels. God knows how she did it.

By the time I was in my polytechnic, getting a rather bland education in Marketing, it became evident to me that I was not about to be one of those poly kids who will proceed thereafter to obtain their education overseas. Bird flu didn’t help my parents’ business. For some reason, I chose at that point not to make a big fuss about my education fund being wiped out completely to sustain the failing business. It was their money afterall. Instead, I proclaimed my lack of desire in obtaining a degree, for “I’m too smart for university”. This way, I thought, my parents need not feel guilty. So now while others have degrees for security, I have business cards instead.

So here I am a few years on, climbing up the corporate ladder twice as fast as any of my peers are, commanding a relatively comfortable salary (it’s never enough, is it?) and I’m half a notch shy of being an Associate Account Director. Not too shabby, for someone whose first advertising job was that of an internship at 500 miserable dollars, is it? It helps to have connections but at that point, I did not. 60 resumes sent out and 1 agency responded with an internship offer. I took it. I’m glad I did. Do I have the right to be complacent at this point? No, I don’t. I will be quite foolish to want to halt my learning progress with my complacency. There will be always someone better than me. And it is that particular someone I need to build my wealth of knowledge on.

Perhaps it is with my not-too-perfect upbringing that causes me to be extremely critical and harsh with the new breed of fresh graduates coming into the workforce. What do you think you have that 5,000 other applicants don’t? What makes you think you deserve a starting pay of S$5,000? The sleek Prada leather shoes your mum paid for?

iSh 9.1

When Kelley, the editor of iSh magazine sent me a text to invite me to a Bombay Sapphire sponsored martini mixology class, I was elated to say the least. No, I haven’t quite graduated summa cum laude in Journalism, and hence the utterly uncool grin on my face when I saw her text message. We do need ‘that one shot’ to prove our worth, and I’m glad Kelley gave me mine.

My article’s found on page 112 on iSh 9.1 this month. I hope you’d grab a copy and let me know what you think.

And oh, nothing really beats seeing my wife smile with such pride whilst reading the article. I’m glad I did her proud. You have absolutely no idea how that feels.