Places, San Francisco

A Mid-Spring American Dream

In the U.S., or even in Europe, it seems a regular rite of passage for one ascending beyond adolescence to take a sort of a roadtrip to find oneself – to know what it is that one can accomplish and live with beyond the comforts of one’s environment. The roadtrip gives one the opportunity to experience different cultures, different opinions, different surroundings, and most of all, the chance to test the limits of one’s endurance and character, and what one would make of one’s resources in situations where your family or usual go-to friends would not be of assistance. In other words, you find out who you really are and what you’re capable of because you’re forced to and with limited resources.

When I told friends and family I was taking a roadtrip around the U.S. for several weeks, the reactions ranged from shock to worry to ridicule. When that failed to faze me, they’d find some logical reason to justify my wanting to go on a solo trip – sans husband, sans friend and sans familiar connections. “Are you alright?” “Is there something wrong?” “Are you going there to look for a job?” “Are you going to look for a boyfriend?” My mum called me several times to ask me what my husband would do for a month in Singapore without me. Well, I guess he has lived decades before he met me; he’d do fine without me for a month.

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