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When it first happened to me at 15, I shrugged it off as the waitress’s misjudgement.Eventually, I Iearnt about the yellow fever, and I never went out with my dad alone again. For as long as I can remember, my feet have never been smaller than a size 40.And at 9 years old, I was wearing jeans meant for 14 year olds.
Although I got away with underage drinking, it’s poor consolation for being constantly mistaken as my dad’s wife.Being an introvert, socialising was a pain especially when there was a tendency for primary school cliques to be segregated by race.While this isn’t to say my classmates of different races didn’t mix or become friends with each other, I noticed the Chinese, Indian and Malay kids would sit separately on the long recess table. But as part of the 0.4% population in Singapore, growing up as a minority was nothing short of a constant identity struggle.As a kid, I detested the first day of school because of the mandatory introduction we had to give. But for me, it always turned into a 3-minute Q&A about my life.