We Are All The Same, We Are All Different

The other day, someone asked me how do I find some thing to write about everyday.

I thought about it for a while. 

I said that since I am writing about my life, and since I have lived a long time, I have much that I wanted to tell. Actually I have so much that I want to say, I often have trouble deciding what should I say first.

Every one has a story to tell, believe me.

We are all the same, yet we are all different.

We humans all have two eyes, two ears, one nose, one mouth, two arms, two legs . . . Yet our eyes are different, our ears are different . . . Right?

We are all the same!
We are all different!

We probably have a lot of the same experiences in our lives, yet we react to the events differently. 

Or, we simply wish to forget about some of the experiences. We want the world to know that we are perfect. But the reality is not so. Don't you agree?

Of course, my dysfunctional family is a story in its self. But then, I believe most of us have some family secrets.The only difference is that some of us don't want to admit it.
I was not the most observant person. But I do have some sort of sixth sense. I may be perceived as self-centered by others. The truth is, I do try to be open-minded, have empathy, have some understanding of human behavior, and be flexible. 
Take the fact that I made the choice to live in the U.S., I have to adapt to a different way of living and so on. That does not mean I do not remember where I came from.

But not so with my husband.

My children confided to their friend's father, who had been very much like a close relative to them, "Pop doesn't want us to date Caucasian boys, but we live in Ada, and there are no Chinese boys around."  

Truth from babe's mouth!

My husband disliked the British when he was in HK - yet he was born British.
MY husband chose to immigrate to the U.S., yet he held on to some unreasonably old-fashioned ways of thinking as a person of Chinese origin. 
He, at times, "protested" too much.
He defended the supremacy of Chinese cooking . . . He did not think that a meal was well-prepared unless your slaved in the kitchen for hours on end.
He lived to eat and I eat to live.

Sometimes, I wonder if he defended himself on being Chinese a bit unnecessarily? Life becomes miserable if you are on the defensive all the time.

I try to stay true to myself. If you don't like it, too bad. Your loss, not mine.
I don't see the need to defend myself.
We are all different, that does not mean you are better than I or I am better than you. 
The world would be a boring place if we are totally the same, with the same looks, the same voices, the same thoughts, the same mannerisms . . .
We would be robots! 

Give me my individuality!

Give me my idiosyncrasies!

Let me be me!