Little Miss had a tantrum in the hotel room and I didn’t get to have the Korean barbecue meal I’d been craving. But in the process, I learnt something – she most cherished spending time with us and her godparents.
Months later, when I was looking at the airline miles I’d accrued, I suddenly had a random idea to take a solo trip back to Seoul. Just me.
Going Seoul-o
After a successful leave application (and the blessings of my husband), I decided on a week away to South Korea’s capital to rest and recharge. I’d eat all the spicy dishes I could want, book beauty treatments, discover new neighbourhoods, all without worrying about the demands of tending to my child.
As my trip neared, my emotions swung in extremes. One minute I was exceedingly excited about what I was going to do and eat, the next moment I was consumed with guilt about leaving my husband and child behind.
Before leaving, I stocked the fridge, planned potential weekend activities, wrote down the week’s menu and made sure my daughter’s favourite snacks were replenished.
When I told some friends about my plans, they asked if it was a “redemption” trip for all the things I did not get to accomplish in April. Truth be told, that was not my intention at all – Seoul was just a convenient location that somehow had everything I wanted to do.
I had two broad objectives for the trip: Learn to take care of my physical self (again) after countless late nights, my quickly-deteriorating skin condition, and post-birth weight gain. My intended remedy? Makeup classes, maybe a facial, and stock up on beauty essentials.
And I wanted to try Korean dishes that may not be easily accessible in Singapore: Soy marinated crab, dakgalbi (spicy grilled chicken and vegetables), and more.
Ticket in hand, I was equal parts nervous and excited as departure time neared. Nervous, because I wasn’t sure how my daughter would fare; excited because for the first time in a long time, I could live life on my own timetable: Sleep in, eat a super late lunch, and not be accountable to anyone about my whereabouts.
Letting go
Two days into my trip, my exasperated husband finally told me to stop checking in every few hours. A typical exchange looked like this:
Me: Hi love. Everything OK?
Husband: Yes
Worn down by these repeated check-ins, my husband asked if I did not trust him to look after our little one. Of course I do, I replied.
Our little girl loves playing with her papa, who is infinitely more adept at building complicated structures using all his daughter’s toys. She feels super-safe with her dad, often poking fun at him. Then why did I feel the constant need to check in? Where was this anxiety coming from?
My Type-A self seldom enjoys a quiet moment. Pre-motherhood, my brain would be akin to my Google Chrome browser, with 10 tabs open at any one time. Social media notifications, competitor analyses, chat apps, you name it – my mind was running at a thousand miles an hour even when not at work.
Somehow, those habits continued even into parenthood. Instead of project strategies and work deadlines, I found new things to mull over – developmental milestones; discount days on Shopee; reminders to text my friends back; books to borrow… the list goes on.
Travelling to a different country without my family did not turn off that switch. If anything, the absence of my family was amplified. I was faced with a choice: I could continue living with this hum of anxiety and be in two places at once, or I could pull myself to the present without ignoring my emotions.
More On This Topic
Travel Journal: In need of a break, this S’porean mother of two embarked on her first solo trip
‘I became a mum at 52’: A roller-coaster ride to motherhood
The realisation
Over the next few days, I took a makeup class that did, indeed, make me look a few years younger. I window-shopped without a toddler in tow. Still, I would find myself wandering into a store to buy something small I knew she would like: A sticker sheet, a water colouring book, sunglasses.
I was naive to think that a solo trip would bring me back to my days as a single person, with few responsibilities. That version of me belongs in the past, as it should – and I thank her for laying the foundation for who I am today. I have little regret about climbing the career ladder, taking risks and investing time in my interests, such as church.
“Single Diane” is but a subset of who I am today. I am a daughter, a wife, a friend, a mum, a strategist – and more. I am no longer fulfilled by entertaining my wants immediately.
Instead of an unstructured day fuelled by multiple iced coffees, I now find joy in a timetable and fitting in non-negotiables that I know my body will appreciate – long walks, not eating deep-fried foods for fear of what they will do to my digestive system, shopping for my husband and daughter, all while still planning to grab an iced coffee because I know it will feed my soul.
Incorporating ‘Save the Day’
Some time ago, I came across a TikTok clip explaining the concept of “Saving the Day” – a time mothers set aside just for themselves to, well, “save the day” and turn it around.
Should I be privileged to take another solo trip, I don’t think I would need an entire week away. And in my everyday life, I’ve resolved to set aside 15 to 20 minutes for myself as far as possible – whether it’s time to read a book borrowed from the library, put on a face mask or to tinker around in the kitchen to make a snack I like, even if my daughter doesn’t.
That time for myself reminds me I’m more than a mum. Much like a Swiss army knife, I deploy the side of me that’s needed, when needed. But I’d feel strange if one of the parts went missing.
This season may well be temporary, and that’s okay, too. For now, let me embrace this time of finding the “me” in Mum.
More On This Topic
Mother-daughter adventures: Slow travel through Kyoto and Tokyo
Gen Z Mumz: Forgoing careers to raise kids before 30, these young mums buck a nationwide trend
