Life Begins At 50
Thanks to my husband who reminds me constantly, I am officially 50 years old.
I still remember the moment when my mom told my father: “you are almost 40!” and the moment when I told my father: “Life begins at 50!” I never truly understood their feelings, their past youth and their unfulfilled dreams. What I comforted my father indeed reflects the way I saw them at that time: they were old in my eyes.
Now, at my age of 50, what about MY life?
The first 30 years I could safely say I lived for other people: my parents first, my husband and my son later on. That is to say, I first gave up my opportunities for an abroad education, then settled in in a well paid but unchallenging job for my own family’s sake.
I was told to do this and that, and I really didn’t know what I wanted for myself. By the way, who does when you are young and from a traditional Chinese family?
However, I was such a restless person, getting bored quickly with my job and my predictable future for the next 30 years.
I think at that time I made the best decision in my entire life: emigrate to Canada.
06/2000
The photo above was taken a year before my leaving for Canada, I look lost, not very happy, meanwhile was determined to make a change.
We gave up everything, including my husband’s promising business. We moved into a small one-bedroom apartment in Toronto, Canada. In no time I started to learn to cook and take care of my 4-year-old son. Of course, no nanny anymore.
The following 10 years was the most struggling period in my life. There were challenges domestically, challenges to fit in a new culture, speak a new language, and most importantly, challenges to find myself.
Many times I was advised to send my son back to China, but I resisted. I wouldn't like to let another nanny look after him, "he is MY son, we go through ups and downs together."
I still remember that every Tuesday, as soon as my class was over after 6pm, I would rush into the KFC to buy a meal for my son, who got picked up after school by a Chinese grandma I paid hourly. I remember one snowy Tuesday evening in the darkness, when walking with my son on the ice-covered sidewalk, I welled up for my own misery.
My father stopped by on his business trip, only cried out: you live like those migrant peasants!
To my great comfort, my son always thinks he had a fun childhood. In retrospect all those years together were our happiest time! Pain has no memory indeed.
For the past 18 years, I’ve learned:
I do become a new person, happier and healthier.
50 years old 03/2019
05/2019
Life does begin at 50! Take pride and enjoy!