Growing Up in Singapore

Was reading a friend’s post and I didn’t really realise it if she hadn’t said it, but I kinda actually really liked growing up in Singapore.

Back when we “swung around MRT poles and ran around trains”.

Back when fun was spending time with your friends at the nearest neighbourhood playground playing catching.

When projects meant making clay model cars and crushing cans to represent petrol stations, and listening to ABBA and The Carpenters.

When you could leave me for hours at the library and I’d still never want to go home.

How I’d look forward to things like visits to Popular bookstore and being allowed to buy ONE book.

Or the rare drive-through at Macs and to get some Happy Meal toy (Hot Wheels! 101 Dalmatians! Sesame Street mini bean pals!)

And sitting by the radio waiting to record our favourite songs on cassette tape, wishing that this time the DJ wouldn’t talk over the intro.

Or dancing to the Macarena.

Back when “dating” meant taking slow strolls home with my first love everyday, or putting a song on the jukebox at A&W.

When the highlight of the year would be an amazing trip to the zoo or bird park with childhood best friends.

When you only went to Orchard Road during Christmas time, to see the lights – a yearly tradition with my cousins.

When taking photos meant holding up one side of your skirt and posing like a princess – and everyone’s favourite backdrop was that fountain at the airport terminal 1.

When a treat meant still having enough money to buy an extra chili fishball just before recess was over.

When I could wear the same terribly mismatched thing every other day and nobody judged me on what I wore or what I owned or didn’t own or how stupid I looked (Ok shuddap if you actually did but never told me haha).

When success was scoring a 51 on my Chinese test.

And knowing I was growing up when I admitted to my teacher I was going to cheat for my test but decided it was wrong to.

I miss growing up here. I miss the Singapore I grew up in. *Nostalgic*


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