Thought Montage

Analyst Fail Blog#1

Last night I was looking at hotels in napa and slutty lingerie with my boyfriend for our anniversary. My client comes up behind me this morning to request status on the project, so I pull up google chrome to open my wiki. GUESS I FORGOT TO CLOSE MY BROWSER FROM LAST NIGHT.

True story. I’m…just dead inside already.

I’m seriously blessed

to have awesome friends who feed me through hard times <3

The Importance of Humble Ambition

“If my dad was able to make it big coming from a poor ice-picking family in Malaysia, then I must do even better after all he’s given me; otherwise, I consider myself a disgrace.” YK

This is why I love and respect my boyfriend so much. Through his high-maintenance taste, collection of $400 shoes and thousand dollar suits, I know he’s earned it all because of his tenacity. The idea that ambition and resourcefulness can overcome circumstances and bad luck in the long run is what drives many of us to succeed despite our obstacles. I want to take this idea deeper and tell you a story of how I grappled with circumstances and ambition.

Family - The more I think about my preadolescent and adolescent years, the sicker I feel about how big of a brat I was. I used to resent my parents for not letting me take violin lessons because we couldn’t afford it. I played for my school anyway, and I secretly felt crushed and behind because the child prodigies with private instructors would always snatch the role of concertmaster. I condemned my circumstances because I couldn’t help being poor, my parents were never involved, and I had an arrogant belief that my academic interests and “latent talents” were being wasted away.

By my senior year of high school, I’d been financially cut-off from my parents. I worked as a manager and tutor at a local tutoring center. This was probably one of the most addictive experiences I had: earning money. It was exhilarating. I felt a freedom in having capital that I had never felt before (my parents never gave me an allowance). I never came home. I was always out with my friends or ex-boyfriend. I ignored my family, and found my luggage in boxes at the front door when I came home late one night. College—worked part time, managed loans and stipends, failed to plan accordingly, ran out of funds in my budget, came back to sister and family who nagged and made me feel like they owned me. I fought back, let my pride get the best of me, refused their help, and dug myself into deeper holes.

The end of college and the beginning of prolonged sobriety and real responsibility have cooled my hotheadedness and softened my ego. I thought about it, and a clearer picture of my family was painted: daddy taking me to soccer practice even though I was terrible. During my…um..artistic days…I started a “band” in middle school with my best friends and asked for drum set and guitar, (no to drum set like any asian family) but my dad bought me a guitar for my 18th birthday to replace the broken one I had salvaged from the dumpster. My sister paid for my private tennis lessons for a month until it became too expensive to keep up. 

Your parents are watching you more closely than you think, and to believe they neglect or hold you back is selfish and narrow. I’ve learned to appreciate the little things my parents have given me, like how they kept a roof over my head and kept me healthy. Most of all, they fled their war-torn homes so that my siblings and I can have a future. No, my parents didn’t make it big. They couldn’t pay for my SAT books, or buy me a new car, or pay for my violin lessons. They are simple east Asian immigrants from a rural upbringing trying to adapt to a cruel environment. I no longer see my circumstances as obstacles, I now see them as pathways that don’t lead to the same place as others (then again, no paths are identical). I embrace the experiences that shaped me. I concede defeat when it comes to high fashion clothing or expensive cars or living in high rise apartments. I’m not a prodigy or a genius, but for as long as I can breathe, I can try my best. I have student loans to pay and my family to take care of, and I’ll be living like a poor college student for at least the next two years of my life—small price to pay for a B.S. and an epic four years, in my opinion. I’m okay with that, because I am thankful to have a great job and have achieved my goals, even though the net worth of the furniture in my room is $164 (and that was an upgrade from just sitting on boxes with a lamp). 

Today, I am finally feeling vindicated from self-pity and the horrible generation and culture gap that tore me away from my family for so many years. I visit my parents weekly or biweekly. I run errands for them. I no longer ignore their phone calls. I helped them buy a car. The other week, my mom told me she bought some watches from the market—they looked old and used. She said she knew that I’ve been wanting a new watch for when I start work, so I had to hold back my tears a little because I didn’t want to feel silly from such a simple gesture.

For so long I felt entitled to success because I had worked for it and ashamed of my financial background. I’ve learned that you can earn what you earn, and you are, indeed, in more control of your life than you think; you just can’t expect certain outcomes given constraints of situation and timing. I’ve also learned to stop being greedy. I can’t have everything, nor will I ever, but I can find solace in knowing that I am the one making the decisions in my life, no one else. I want to make the right ones from now on. Finally, I’m going to stop talking, start going back to studying for my GMAT, and put epiphany to practice.

TL,DR: Ambition helped me accomplish what I have, but pride kept me from being happy with it. My parents taught me the importance of humility with ambition; I just never realized what it was until now. 

You know you’re getting older when…

you talk to your parents like mature adults…or even like friends…? *GASP*

your “running partners” include your boyfriend’s dad

you love prunes and anything fiber-rific