Oh yeah.

I've been brought up by my mother in the typical extra-- traditional asian environment. Except she added one more clause. That I've to be sincerely nice to every single person. When people wrong you, she says, be extra nice. I remember when I was a child and and was given a new pencil case by one of them grown up aunties or uncles, and I was twirling my new rainbow colored pencil box merrily, one of the other kids came over and snatched it. She would not return it to me and also yanked my strawberry hairclip from my hair. This enraged me, my entire 6 year old body sprung with a sudden bout of vivacious energy and I ran and shook her. All hell broke loose.And when the parents came, her mother and my mother stood sheepishly facing each other. My mother roughly took me by my sleeve and delivered the mother of all slaps on my face. Then came the "series". Slap, slap,slap." Ma, she snatched my pencil case! She yanked my hair clip, she hit me first!"Slap, slap slap. When I got home, I was still screaming, angry tears pouring down my face. You see, I'm THAT kind of a kid who had no closure until I undersood "why" I was being treated that way. As promised Mum took the cane with her cold, silent demeanor and rained the strokes on me.As years went by however, her indoctrination worked. Maybe it was indoctrination, or I grew tired of resisting. A hundred other similar incidents taught me one thing. If I went against my mother's laws, I was dead meat. In her line of judgment, her justice prevailed as long as she deemed fitting within the parameters of that school of thought she came from. The school of thought that encourages you to beat the living daylights of your own even, to always apologize first. To be the bigger person, and to give way. Even when others were blatant scumsBecause that is the right way.I wish I could say my brother was equally affected but he wasn't. The reason was simple. I clamored and screamed, fought for reasons. WHY Ma, but why must I say sorry first? Why, when she kicked my face. Why ma, why did I have to give my watch to that boy? And perhaps my brother did as told, got into less scrapes than I did or challenged authority less. You know I could write a book about "Caning behavior." Because for the life of me, I never shut up even as I got flogged. Even as one flimsy cane splits after multiple usage and Mum would replenish  A FEW and tie them in a neat, pretty bundle for my special treatment. My cousins can testify to this. Ah cousins. Even with cousins, I would not be spared. In every little spat, yours truly got my mother's wrath so bad even our domestic help at that point used to plead ceaselessly with Ma to please let me off. At one point, no, a few points, our domestic help came and covered my body as I refused to apologize and got the brunt of Ma's discipline.As the years rolled by however. The indoctrination indeed proved to be valiantly successful. I convinced myself that the only way I could survive was being that "bigger" person. It worked to a certain extent, not too well at times because the "natural" me would still feel upset inside and there would be a need to justify myself or retaliate. But soon, even I brainwashed myself into thinking, the only way I could ever be a good person was to be nice. Be nice even if I felt like absolute garbage inside. Be nice even if the other person is not nice. Be nice, because that way I'm doing what Jesus would want me to, and I'm following my mother's rules. Be nice because that way the world will love me. Be nice because that way your friends will never leave you. Be nice and your sweetheart will love you forever. Be nice because if you're not nice, something bad will happen to you, your family or whatever little treasures you had. Be nice because you don't have a choice. At all. And if you're faking it, God will inflict His great justice upon your sad sad sad soul and you'd rot for eternity. Be nice, you artistic fool because if you're not nice, then you will have no friends, nothing and be a sad pathetic loser forever.And then I met this girl that went the extreme other way and my world became wrecked with chaos after our friendship fell apart. The girl I loved more than my own sister threw the whole God-my mother's justice system-my own belief system- into such confusion, I retreated my sad pathetic being into a part depressed, part autistic world." Duncha know L, you keep your friends close and your enemies closer? You think you're nice, but you're so nice sure, until it's fake. Either that or you're stupid as hell."She was right in a way. I was both. I was kidding myself, brainwashing myself thinking I had to earn my worth into the world. I stopped wondering about what fairness was. If my mother inculcated the fairest justice system in the house, it was that "you beat your own brood" thing. But lines get blurry between my brother and me. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure the asian mentality on that one. Oh yipee yay. Here's a GIRL who tries to understand those rules, live by them, thinks she successfully got them down, and then gets confused all over again  at home when the brother gets into the picture.So you see, I have so many seedy, beady words on my blogs. So much sentiment, so much emotion, so much to express. You'll never find the typical blogger thing going on here. No narcissistic cute as hell poses, no pouty lips nor widened bambi eyes, nada. You want those, go look under photos. In my written things, they are an amalgamation of me, the Platyus and Thisbe. These guys are my alter egoes, the caricature of my other "me"s. In a world of creativity freedom is power. Because you don't have to be apologetic anymore. Or no. Essentially you could act phony and try to win people with sugar icing written. But always, someone smarter will outwit you, expose you and shred you to tatters if they find the ample opportunity. That is why really, by being frank, I put myself out there. But it's also a plus because it's really what makes me me.These positivity blogs I write are always filled with a slight ironic twist. I love to share what turned a cynical,hurt unhappy person around to become something that can rejoice and grow each day to deal with situations. If I wrote all the positive blogs in the world, and stopped becoming upset, annoyed and irritated still, then I'd bag the biggest liar or pretender of all time. Because as people you live with a world of many other people and events still occur everyday. The day you received your key on why you need to be positive in spite of negativity raging in your face, you sort of receive an armor, a shield and a bullet vest around you. You definitely still can get hurt, still can hurt others but because of this "positive" rule, you know it's a process, not an answer.Transformation takes a steady pace of a lifetime. So, while you live with your previous flawed judgment on life, you also have hope now that things can get better and become the best it can ever be. But because life is life, the next time there is a downward spiral, you know what to do.I guess the definition of "nice" became increasingly clear to me as I grew up. It's not always an outward graciousness in being giving or being that suffering person. Because you can often do those and feel that you've done a right thing and still go to bed wondering why you feel slighted, hurt or insulted when you've "done the right thing". That is the point when you start thinking, gee, I forgot that I have to be nice to another person.Me. Yes me. I've to be nice to me. Because I'm going to have to love me since I'm stuck with me forever. And since whoever met me and love/loved me later will still not outnumber the years I spent with me since kingdom come, I think I'm pretty important enough to be nice to now.So, it isn't that Ma was wrong in her methods. It was unfortunate because she never explained and I had to figure it out. It isn't that God is such a calculative God because He did love Ma too and those kids that snatched my hairclips and stuff. I don't need to earn love or friends by trying to be nice. Or be a long suffering victimized schmuck just to play the sad victim.Oh. That's because I'm now confident of something. I'm awesome. I'm nice. That's a bit hard to really say as if I'm doing my modesty a disservice but I'm not saying am I? I'm just uh...typing. :)You should say it to yourself too.Reputation is what men and women think of us; character is what God and angels know of us.Thomas Paine