I sat in class daydreamed about why psychology was such a favourite amongst university students either as a course or taken as an elective subject. It was mind boggling to understand the human nature or maybe that was the attraction or perhaps being acknowledged as a so-called-psych-expert with one semester subject made us susceptible of analysing others without applying the same principles on ourselves. My reason was a bit detrimental, an easy grade or so I thought, and enriching my degree skills set. I often worked with an aim to be as vast in knowledge with a sharp critical mind. Smart people were regarded with high value in the modern informative world. As they said knowledge is power. As a language student that specialized in French, understanding human psych is a major added bonus in adapting to different cultures.

Out of reverie, I tried to focus back on the lecture when a student raised her hand and questioned about Maslow’s pyramid. What the frigging hell a pyramid would be included in a discussion of psychology? Embarrassingly for me; it was one of the most prominent humanity psychologists named Maslow that proposed the pyramid that loosely describes self-actualization.

Although the pyramids in general were really impressive, this specific psychology pyramid left a much deeper impact on me. It was a humbly experience for me in class whereas my expertise in language might not be necessarily deemed important to others. Maslow’s pyramid explained that human basic needs such as food, clothes etcetera were to be met before other needs to be fulfilled. It followed by security then relationships or affections then self-esteem which then lead to self-actualization. Self-actualization is portrayed as a person that achieving the best of the potential a person possessed. Although there were a few debates on this pyramid’s order of achieving one’s needs and self-actualization itself was considered a “rigid hierarchy”. Well that was a discussion for another psychology paper. It intrigued me in finding my own ‘final destination’ of self-actualization.              

“Sara, get your in here” Mrs. McKinley yelled from the living room of the house. Groaning for being woken up, I stomped down the stairs to where my parents are. I walked in with a pout and sleepy eyes while standing awkwardly in front of my parents.

 “Sit Sara, mind telling me what’s this all about” my father said as he pointed to a letter on the coffee table. His expression did not betray any emotions which quickly sober me up from sleepiness. My father was usually a laid back person with low temperament. While it was not easy to rile him up, it would be silly if you think you could handle an aggravated man-hulk. The faculty’s dean could attest to that. Poor fellow.  

 “It’s an offer letter” I sighed while taking a seat opposite my parents. I did not wish my parents to found out this way. I thought that after everything had been finalized or at least I made a decision in taking the job, then I could told them about it. I had been thinking whether it was worth it going all the way to the other side of the world for this job. Decision to leave home was not easy. Although I craved adventure, being on trips were definitely not the same as living in another country.  

“I know it’s an offer letter, I can read more profound than you are”. A ticked off Mrs. McKinley was not someone to mess with. Well, it was no brainer which trait that I genetically got from mom. My mother hated someone who was not frank to her. Being a professor specialized in history of arts, the past supposedly taught her a lot of things; 1) things always being underappreciated during the times of making 2) people interest varies fleetingly 3) history often repeats itself. Although I can’t seem to grasp the fundamental of arts like my other siblings, namely my sister, I found language as another form of art that I could relate with. Being satirical seems one of it. Besides taking French major gave the assumption that I would be working at most four hours away from home in the city of love, Paris like what I had done for my internship.    

“Okay mom. I, your youngest daughter who only just finished her bachelor degree with a distinction-mind you, got a job offer in a broadcasting company. Shouldn’t we celebrate it with joy and happiness?” I smirked with a sense of pride in front of them. Who would have thought a student major in French for a bachelor degree got a job offer in Japan? Spot the difference? I may have worked in Paris for the last two year of my degree but exploring another possibility just seems too good to pass up.  

“Okay, smarty pants, but working in Japan? What happened to us communicating as family if someone from this family decides to drop a bomb like this? And we found out by a mail obviously lying around on the coffee table.” Mom went a bit berserk at this news since I would be at the other side of the world. My parents were advocate of self-adventure but seeing my siblings worked in different parts of Europe, making my choice to went to East Asia technically so much farther away from home. For 22 years of my life, I have never been on my own outside of the shelter I called home or generally Europe.    

”Mom, I’m truly sorry. I was going to tell you sooner but I thought I was not going get the job. Obviously the competition is high for that job. My skills set were definitely differs from the requirement. I just thought, why not? I have nothing to lose even if I don’t get the job. Besides I found out about the offer earlier this week through email. Dad please says something.”

 ”I’m proud of you” dad beamed his delighted smile at me. My mother gasped loudly and stared at her husband disbelievingly. “What? Aren’t you proud of her?” my father said rhetorically while smiling at his sweet wife. I knew my father would appreciate my efforts to be independent.   

“I totally can’t believe these traitors. Fine, whatever. Go to bed. We’ll discuss this later.”

“Night guys. Love you.” I went back to bed and dreamed of climbing the Tokyo Towers.

Four years later

 I was woken up abruptly by a blaring ringtone. “Hello. Please leave a message after the beep. Beep” and I hang up. Then my apartment’s door was knocked repeatedly thus not giving me any chance to continue my beauty sleep.

“