ChiCuapCuap~

There is always a first time for everything in this world. Not all of them are beautiful. Not all of them are meant to be remembered fondly. Still, they find their way into our lives and ask to be carried. I remembered the most uneasy feeling this month.

---

That afternoon, we gathered in the living room like we usually did. Nothing felt unusual. Our child, only two years old sat nearby with a snack in hand, doing what toddlers do best: playing, exploring, testing limits.

I had just finished work. My body was heavy, so I lay down, letting the fatigue settle into my bones. He was tired too. Tired of something I still struggle to name. Sometimes I wonder how exhaustion can be so loud even when days seem empty, but I kept that thought to myself. Our child began tossing bits of food around, laughing. A warning was given. Then another. The warnings didn’t work. Children rarely understand urgency the way adults want them to.

And then something happened, sudden, sharp, and completely unexpected.

A brief flash of pain. Not the kind that lasts on the skin, but the kind that shocks the system. I froze. My mind went quiet. Anger filled the room, directed at me, telling me to pay attention, to do better, to be more alert. I remember thinking, that we were both there. But the thought stayed unspoken. Silence felt safer than words in that moment. Tears came without permission. Not from pain, but from shock. From disbelief. From the realization that exhaustion, when it spills over, can cross lines before anyone realizes they are there.

Almost immediately, regret followed. Words of apology came quickly, clumsily, as if they could rewind time. But something had already shifted inside me.

I picked up my child and went to the kitchen. Not dramatically. Just instinctively. Distance felt necessary. I was afraid, not of what had happened, but of what could happen if we stayed in that space together. The rest of his words faded into noise. My ears rang, then went strangely numb. Maybe that was my mind protecting itself.

That night, the apologies returned, again and again. I said I forgave him. And I meant it, in the way someone chooses peace over conflict. But forgiveness, I learned, does not immediately erase fear. Since then, a quiet unease follows me during the smallest moments. Especially when our child eats. Especially when things get messy. A part of me stays alert, bracing for something I hope will never come again.

---

There are still many unfinished tasks from last year. Some are waiting patiently. Others I avoid, not out of laziness, but because energy is a limited thing.

Well, January didn’t give me many beautiful memories. But it gave me awareness of limits, of fatigue, of moments that should never repeat themselves. And maybe that awareness is enough for now.

Dalam hubungan, perasaan suka saja sering kali tidak cukup. Seiring waktu, banyak orang mulai menyadari bahwa yang lebih penting bukan seberapa besar rasa sayang, tetapi bagaimana seseorang bersikap, berkomunikasi, dan memperlakukan pasangannya dalam situasi sehari-hari. Di sinilah istilah "green flag" dan "red flag" menjadi relevan. Bukan untuk memberi label secara berlebihan, melainkan sebagai pengingat agar kita lebih peka terhadap tanda-tanda yang sebenarnya sudah terlihat sejak awal.

Penting untuk diingat, yang perlu diperhatikan bukan satu kejadian tunggal, melainkan pola yang berulang.

Ciri-ciri Seseorang yang "Green Flag"

1. Konsisten antara ucapan dan tindakan
   Ia tidak banyak berkata manis, tetapi apa yang diucapkan sejalan dengan apa yang dilakukan. Hal-hal sederhana seperti menepati janji dan bersikap jelas menunjukkan keseriusan.

2. Menghargai batasan pribadi
   Ia tidak memaksa, tidak mengontrol, dan tidak meremehkan batasan yang kita buat. Baginya, batasan adalah bagian dari rasa hormat, bukan ancaman.

3. Mau mendengarkan dan berdiskusi dengan dewasa
   Saat terjadi perbedaan pendapat, ia tidak langsung defensif atau menyerang. Ia mau mendengar, memahami, dan mencari jalan tengah.

4. Bertanggung jawab secara emosional
   Ia mampu mengakui kesalahan tanpa sibuk mencari pembenaran. Permintaan maafnya disertai usaha untuk memperbaiki diri.

5. Memberi rasa aman, bukan rasa cemas
   Bersamanya, kita merasa tenang. Tidak dipenuhi rasa takut, curiga berlebihan, atau kebingungan tentang posisi kita dalam hidupnya.

Sering kali, green flag tidak terasa dramatis. Justru terasa tenang, stabil, dan sederhana—namun menenangkan.

Ciri-ciri Seseorang yang "Red Flag"

1. Inkonisten dan penuh alasan
   Perkataannya sering berubah, rencana mudah dibatalkan, dan selalu ada alasan yang terdengar masuk akal tetapi terjadi berulang kali.

2. Meremehkan perasaan pasangan
   Kalimat seperti “kamu terlalu sensitif” atau “ini cuma hal kecil” digunakan untuk menghindari tanggung jawab dan mengecilkan emosi kita.

3. Manipulatif atau sering playing victim
   Saat terjadi konflik, ia memposisikan diri sebagai korban, membuat kita merasa bersalah meskipun sebenarnya tidak melakukan kesalahan.

4. Cemburu berlebihan tapi tidak memberi kejelasan
   Ia ingin mengontrol, membatasi, atau mengetahui segalanya, namun enggan memberikan komitmen atau kejelasan hubungan.

5. Sulit menerima kritik, mudah mengkritik
   Ia bebas menilai dan menyalahkan orang lain, tetapi defensif atau marah saat mendapat masukan.

6. Gampang melakukan kekerasan, baik verbal maupun fisik
   Mudah membentak, mengancam, berkata kasar, merendahkan, memukul barang, atau melakukan kontak fisik yang menyakitkan adalah tanda bahaya serius. Kekerasan bukan bentuk emosi yang wajar dan tidak pernah bisa dibenarkan dengan alasan apa pun.

Red flag sering kali tidak datang dengan wajah menyeramkan. Kadang ia dibungkus perhatian, kata-kata manis, dan sikap seolah peduli namun perlahan menguras energi dan kepercayaan diri.

Tidak ada manusia yang sempurna. Melakukan kesalahan sekali bukan berarti seseorang adalah red flag. Namun, pola perilaku yang terus berulang tanpa niat berubah adalah hal yang patut diwaspadai. Hubungan yang sehat bukan tentang mencari orang tanpa cela, melainkan tentang dua orang yang sama-sama mau belajar, bertanggung jawab, dan tumbuh bersama.

Mengenali green flag dan red flag bukan berarti menjadi dingin atau takut menjalin hubungan. Justru ini adalah bentuk kepedulian pada diri sendiri agar tidak terus bertahan dalam hubungan yang melelahkan secara emosional. Karena pada akhirnya, hubungan yang baik bukan yang penuh drama, tetapi yang membuat kita merasa aman, dihargai, dan tenang menjadi diri sendiri.

December felt strangely flat. Nothing truly stood out, nothing felt memorable in a significant way. On the surface, it looked more relaxed compared to November. But when I looked back more honestly, I realized that the beginning of December was actually very heavy. The dominant feeling that stayed with me throughout the month was being overwhelmed, quietly, constantly.

Work became one of the main sources of exhaustion. I experienced burnout, not only because of the workload that piled up toward the end of the year, but also because of something that seemed small yet deeply affected my mood: my laptop. Every morning began with frustration. The laptop kept malfunctioning, and even after being “fixed,” it never truly worked properly. Starting the day already annoyed made everything feel heavier. Burnout came from those two things combined, the technical struggle and the accumulation of tasks. Fortunately, in the middle of the month, the office lent me a new laptop. Since then, the burnout slowly faded, and work became more manageable again.

There was no year-end target chasing, no resolutions to fulfill. I stopped setting yearly goals a long time ago. Living life itself already feels exhausting enough, adding annual resolutions only makes it worse. I personally prefer setting monthly goals, based on current needs and circumstances. December also felt lighter because of the many holidays: Christmas, New Year, and the remaining leave days I used. At least, I had some time to rest.

Financially, I feel tired of hoping things will get better ever since my husband was laid off [Stepping Into a Role I Never Asked For]. My mindset has shifted into survival mode: just live today. If there is money, Alhamdulillah. If there isn’t, then it is what it is, as long as my child can eat. Even so, I realized that I spent quite a lot this month, mostly on snacks and eating out. I tried to hold back, but I still kept craving food, this and that.

The worries never really stopped. I often find myself wondering, why does my life feel like this, over and over again? People say life goes in cycles, sometimes up, sometimes down. But why does it feel like mine is always down? Maybe my life’s wheel is oval, not round, hehe. I reflect a lot on why our life turned out this way, and if I’m asked what needs to be fixed, the answer is painful: there are so many things. Too many.

Mentally, there was a moment when I felt completely exhausted. My two-year-old was being fussy, wanting many things but unable to express them clearly. In that moment, I consciously pushed him until he fell. I felt immediate regret. But at the same time, I was so tired and just wanted to be understood. And yet, I know my child also wants to be understood. That realization hurt.

Regarding my relationship, my self-reflection led me to think that perhaps my life feels this way because I complain too much about my husband. I count his flaws, resent his shortcomings, and compare him to other men. But at the same time, I question myself: how am I supposed not to feel this way if he behaves the way he does? Gratitude feels very difficult when it comes to his attitude and character. Eventually, I became quieter. More resigned. Like… ah, whatever.

This month taught me something uncomfortable about myself: why do I keep thinking about other people’s feelings when they don’t even think about mine? Yet when I express my thoughts, I’m told that I’m the one who lacks empathy. My point of view and others’ perspectives are different, and I am tired of trying to understand this world.

If there is one small thing I can say I’m proud of, it’s this: even though my husband has no income, he doesn’t stop me from spending money on food. Or maybe he’s just tired of stopping me, so he lets it be. Either way, I’m grateful for that small freedom.

December ended not with clarity, not with hope, but with quiet exhaustion. Still standing. Still moving. Even if it feels flat, even if it feels heavy, I made it to the end of the month—and maybe that is enough for now.

Drama China sering kali terlihat ringan dan tidak memakan banyak waktu. Setidaknya, itulah yang saya pikirkan di awal. Bayangkan saja, satu episode hanya sekitar lima menit. Ketika melihat total episode yang “hanya” sekitar 50-an, hitungannya terasa masuk akal: 5 menit × 50 episode = 250 menit. Jauh lebih singkat dibandingkan drama Korea yang satu episodenya bisa mencapai hampir dua jam. Saat itu saya merasa, ah, ini cuma drama pendek, cepat selesai.

Namun kenyataannya tidak sesederhana itu.

Setelah satu judul selesai, muncul judul lain yang terlihat tak kalah menarik. Alurnya mirip, pemerannya cantik dan tampan, konfliknya ringan tapi bikin penasaran. Tanpa sadar, satu drama berganti menjadi dua, lalu tiga. Waktu yang awalnya terasa “sebentar” berubah menjadi berjam-jam yang hilang begitu saja. Di sinilah saya mulai menyadari bahwa bukan durasi per episode yang berbahaya, tapi kesinambungan ceritanya.

Dampaknya tidak berhenti di situ. Ketika menonton terlalu intens, cerita dalam drama tersebut terbawa hingga ke alam bawah sadar. Saya pernah mengalami mimpi dengan alur dan imajinasi yang mirip dengan drama yang sedang ditonton, seolah otak belum benar-benar berhenti memproses ceritanya, bahkan saat tidur. Ini membuat kualitas istirahat menurun dan pikiran terasa lelah meskipun tubuh sudah berbaring lama.

Secara emosional, drama China juga perlahan membentuk ekspektasi yang terlalu tinggi terhadap realita. Kisah cinta yang manis, perhatian berlebihan dari tokoh utama pria, hingga gambaran pasangan ideal seperti CEO muda, kaya, tampan, dan super romantis membuat dunia nyata terasa hambar. Tanpa sadar, saya mulai membandingkan kehidupan nyata dengan kisah fiksi, padahal keduanya jelas tidak berada di level yang sama.

Selain itu, ada dampak lain yang lebih halus namun cukup mengganggu, yaitu pergeseran standar kecantikan dan ketampanan. Hampir semua pemeran wanita digambarkan putih, tinggi, langsing, dengan rambut panjang terurai dan hidung mancung. Sementara pemeran pria digambarkan super tinggi, badan sixpack, wajah mulus, dan nyaris tanpa cela. Paparan visual seperti ini secara perlahan membentuk standar ideal di kepala, meskipun secara sadar kita tahu bahwa itu tidak realistis dan sangat selektif.

Tanpa disadari, hal ini bisa memengaruhi cara memandang diri sendiri maupun orang lain. Standar yang terlalu tinggi membuat rasa tidak puas semakin mudah muncul, baik terhadap penampilan sendiri maupun terhadap realitas sekitar.

Pada akhirnya, menonton drama China bukanlah sesuatu yang sepenuhnya negatif. Ia bisa menjadi hiburan, pelarian sementara, bahkan sumber inspirasi. Namun pengalaman pribadi ini mengajarkan bahwa hiburan yang terlihat singkat dan ringan tetap perlu dikendalikan. Tanpa batasan, ia bisa memengaruhi waktu, emosi, mimpi, hingga cara kita memandang hidup dan realita. 

Jadi, sudah menonton drama pendek China berapa hari ini? hehe

November came with a heavier rhythm, even though I had started taking more leave to use up my annual days off. I thought stepping away from work once in a while would ease the load, but the truth is life outside the office didn’t slow down either. It felt like trying to steal a breath in between waves, only to find another one already on its way.

Work grew thicker, busier, almost like everything decided to arrive at once. Sometimes I wondered whether it was simply the workload… or if I was quietly burning out without realizing it.

Financially, things remained tight. Nothing new, but still exhausting. I couldn’t freely use the salary I brought home. There were too many things lined up: school fees, our helper’s salary, utilities, kitchen essentials, and the constant, invisible expenses that simply come with living. I tried my best not to burden my husband, not to add weight to his shoulders. He still didn’t have a stable job, relying on uncertain freelance projects. Yet somehow, he always managed to fill the gaps. Part of me was grateful, another part worried he might be leaning on the credit card more than he admitted. That fear alone kept me cautious so I wouldn’t add to his burden, financially or mentally.

I often thought about letting our helper go, just to ease the monthly expenses. But then reality answered quickly: Who would take care of the chaos left by a toddler? Who would iron, sweep, mop, and handle the mountain of daily chores when I already spent my days working and managing everything in the kitchen? I knew I couldn’t do all of it. And expecting my husband to share the load wasn’t an option, he simply wouldn’t. Having a helper is one of the few things that keeps me from losing my sanity.

Sometimes, I wondered if I should take a part-time job. But where I live, part-time work, especially at night isn’t common. And honestly, I wasn’t sure where I’d even find the energy. I saw people out there juggling multiple roles effortlessly, as if they were immune to exhaustion. Meanwhile, even small fatigue could knock me down. The world felt unforgiving. And in darker moments, I found myself wondering, if life is this hard, will the afterlife be harsher still?

Emotionally, November felt like walking with too much to carry. Overwhelmed, that might be the closest word. Nothing ever felt quite enough. I kept searching for answers about why my child’s weight wasn’t improving, bouncing between worry, frustration, and guilt. Maybe that was what drained me most, feeling like I wasn’t doing enough, even when I was doing everything I could.

And yet, in a strange way, I’m grateful. The days felt slow while living them, but now that I look back, they passed quickly. Maybe that’s November’s quiet lesson: It’s okay to move slowly, as long as you don’t stop.