I Cried (Again) Today

I cried at work today.

I had a last-minute makeup booking for two clients: an older woman and her daughter. It was just another job, nothing out of the ordinary, but I felt grateful for the opportunity. When I arrived, the house wasn’t just occupied by the two clients; there were also two young girls and a boy, all wonderfully behaved. The kids were sweet and playful, even joking about “approving” the makeup I did on their grandmother. To keep them from disturbing me, their dad offered to take them to Maccas. As they left, one of the girls turned to her grandmother and said, “Love you, Grandma.”

I don’t know why, but those words shattered me. I started sobbing uncontrollably, apologising through tears: “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t cry. I’m working, I shouldn’t” But I couldn’t stop. Finally, I explained: my own grandmother passed away two months before Christmas. I couldn’t return home for her funeral because of work commitments here in Australia, even though I’d visited her earlier. She raised me as parents worked tirelessly, so my grandparents were my anchor. Among her grandchildren, I was one of her favourites, alongside one my cousin. We shared a bond deeper than most, shaped by her constant presence in our lives.

Living abroad makes grief harder. A few days ago, I wrote about feeling homesick. I thought it’d get easier with time, but it hasn’t. This is only my second year in Australia, and while I’ve built a life here, studying, hustling, growing my makeup business but the ache for home persists. I’m a homebody at heart. Missing my family, our shared meals, the comfort of being surrounded by those who’ve known me forever… it’s the hardest part of being a diaspora. I don't know how to feel. A little bit of regret? If I'm still working and have regular salary, I'd be able to come home.

Some assume homesickness is about missing food or familiar places. But it’s deeper. It’s missing the people who are your home. Today, watching that little girl hug her grandmother, I felt the weight of my loss all over again. I’m tired. Tired of hustling, tired of suppressing tears, tired of telling myself to “keep going.” (*Alexa, play “Every Day I’m Shufflin’.”*)

But here’s my resolve: I WILL save enough to go home this year. And again next year for my sister’s wedding. I promised my parents I’d visit whenever I could. Right now isn’t ideal as wedding season here is booming, but I’ll make it work. Home is worth it.

I’m proud of the life I’ve built here. My business thrives, my clients trust me, and I’m constantly learning. But as an Asian woman raised in a tight-knit family, 27 years of togetherness isn’t something you just move on from. I’m not ashamed to admit I miss them fiercely.

Today reminded me how fragile life is. I still have one grandmother left, and I want to cherish her. This journey isn’t easy, but I’m grateful for it, even the pain. It means I loved deeply, and was loved in return.

Here’s to hoping I’ll be home soon. Thanks for reading. See you in the next post.