Author : Tee Pei Jing ( JingJing Tee)
Company : Allianz General Insurance Co. Malaysia Berhad
Profession : Assets Protection
Position : Business Development Manager
I was born into a traditional family in a fishing village in Bukit Mertajam, Penang. Similar with many families, we carried the shadow of son preference. With an older brother and a younger brother, I became the one who was “supposed to be sensible” from a very young age.
At 7th Year old, I was already sweeping, mopping, and doing laundry. By 10, I was cooking meals for a family of six. While other children played after school, I moved between the kitchen and buckets of chores. My father was a hawker, and in the afternoons, I helped prepare ingredients for the next day’s stall.
Those days made me capable—
but also deeply alone.
As a child, I didn’t understand what “hurt” meant. I only knew there was something unfair. Why did the good things never come to me? Why was I always the one carrying the burden? That unspoken pain slowly turned into resentment.
When my mother fell into depression, I even thought she was pretending—
I was only eleven.
In secondary school, I was sent to a school known for problematic students. There, after standing up for a bullied classmate, I became the target instead. My socks were thrown away, my skirt was pulled, and I was called hurtful names for years. No one stood up for me, and I learned to stay silent.
When emotions have no outlet,
they turn into anger.
I became short-tempered, easily triggered, and slowly pushed myself further away from my family.
In my final year before university, my father said,
“If you don’t get into a Government University, stop studying. Girls don’t need too much education.”
For that one and half year, I buried myself in the library.
I just wanted to leave this home.
And I got into university.
But just before I left for Terengganu, my father was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. For the first time, I felt the weight of life so heavily. I wanted to give up my studies, but he refused.
He encouraged me to continue my studies.
He even endured the pain and accompanied me on a long bus ride to my orientation. I will never forget that moment for the rest of my life
Half a year later, he passed away.
During those four years, I never took a single cent from my family. I survived on scholarships and small businesses. There were countless nights I struggled alone—
but I never allowed myself to say I was tired.
Later, I got married and had a child. I brought my mother to live together with me. And only when I became a mother, I finally understand her silence, her exhaustion, and her helplessness.
She was just a woman,
who had never been treated gently.
That was when I broke down.
And finally, I let go—
of her, and of the past version of myself.
When my heart softened, life began to change. My career improved, my relationships healed, and the warmth within my family slowly returned.
Today, I see so many women trapped by responsibilities, by expectations, by the need to be perfect. We try so hard to fulfill every role—
yet forget to take care of ourselves.
But the truth is—
no leaf falls in the wrong place.
Nothing we went through was meant to trap us.
It was meant to teach us—
to let go of ourselves.
Please, eat well, sleep well, and take care of your emotions.
Because if love doesn’t come from others,
we must learn to love ourselves.
Actively serving the community through educational oversight, youth leadership and women’s development, committed to fostering social harmony, empowerment, sustainable community progress through dedicated involvement in various organizations and leadership roles.
Auditor of the PIBKS SJKC Kong Min Pusat
Board Member of the Youth Bukit Mertajam Hokkien Association
Member of the Women’s Section, Penang State Assembly Hall