The Requirements List

and quieting that Chinese-Filipino auntie voice in my head

Note: interchanging between Fil-Chi/Chinese-Filipino/Chinoy because the former is slang, but it’s what the community uses more, but grammatically speaking it’s Chinese-Filipino. Chinoy is a shorter abbreviation (Chinese + Pinoy).

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At a young age, I was led to believe there was only one way to live my life.

Growing up in a Chinese-Filipino household simply meant I had to conform to a list of requirements, in this specific order:

• go to school (must be one with Chinese as part of its curriculum)

• get good grades (preferably or at least with honors)

• get a degree (must be business related, in a distinguished university—we all know DLSU¹ takes the top spot for this)

• take over the family business (or start a business that is viably acceptable for Chinese-Filipino standards)

• marry within the Chinese-Filipino community² (this includes a list of other requirements that’s too much to enumerate, one being both families have to have their own businesses and be financially stable)

• buy a house (or a piece of land, and construct a house on said property)

• start a family (preferably give birth to a boy to carry the family name)

I thought I had to do what everyone else was doing

If these requirements weren’t fulfilled, expect looks of disappointment at the next family reunion.

In hindsight, having those expectations put on me gave me a direction to move through my life and have a rough image on what it could look like. Or so I thought.

It wasn’t until my twenties—fresh out of college, that I unexpectedly forged my own path, and never stopped.

I was always making art during recess and lunch break—doodling at the back of my notebook, writing announcements on the chalkboard, starting a new sketch so I could fill it up with colors and patterns when I got home. It was either that, or I was busy working through a project due that day, or reviewing for an exam. I was an okay student; I got good grades and didn’t really feel the need to strive for a perfect score every time.

In school, I never really stood out. I wasn’t part of the “cool kids” circle, even if I had a knack for creativity. Other students in my batch were more extroverted and outgoing than me anyway, and lacking those qualities hindered my talents from being highlighted in our school performances. I took it as a sign to build a richer life outside of the four walls of the classroom, so I indulged in my time at home the most—specifically in front of our family PC.

I then won penmanship, Chinese calligraphy and spelling contests, which all foreshadowed my current job

Outside of school, I found myself either drawing away in my sketchbook or in the depths of the World Wide Web. From the moment my cousin introduced me to Google in 2005 and helped me make my first email address (on Yahoo!), I was glued to the computer screen and never looked back. Back then, the Internet was such a novelty. I’d spend hours perusing through websites, reading blogs, eventually starting my own, and connecting with creative folks around the world. The possibilities felt endless yet powerful.

University was the first time I felt like I had some agency over the direction I was headed, even if it took me a while to find it. Shifting my degree to Advertising Management³ felt like a small but significant act of trusting my gut, and made way for possibilities I never thought I would have. I came out of my shell, found my people, and for the first time, the path I was carving started to feel like mine.

By the time I graduated, I had already been juggling freelance work alongside my studies and a day job in an advertising agency. Things moved quickly from there: a book deal, more projects than I could manage, and a decision I couldn't keep putting off. I wanted to know what would happen if I gave these things my full time, energy, and attention.

So I did, and dropped out of the Chinese-Filipino requirements list, to the dismay of my ancestors.

dishonor on your cow

I remember waking up every day with a zest for life, filled with opportunities I had only dreamed of. I landed my first book deal and became an author at 22, started working with international publishers at 25, and freelance projects kept pouring in. I was booked, busy, and loved it.

As I navigated this unconventional path at a young age, the Internet became a default sounding board. It provided a space for me to share my progress and find community. Eventually, it also became a place where I was constantly being watched and perceived. I was, for the lack of a better term, famous. I was a public figure!

Did I like it? Secretly, I did for a time. I had hoped it would bring some sort of validation with how I viewed myself. It didn't. I measured my productivity and self-worth by strangers on the Internet, relied heavily on their approval, and in doing so, discredited all the hard work I did to get to this point and left no room for growth and self-reflection. In hindsight, maybe it was because I never felt like I fit in the Chinese-Filipino mould and wanted to prove that this was a viable path, despite it being different.

While my career soared in my twenties, it was all a gamble. I sacrificed parts of my creativity for the sake of making money, and my life became an endless cycle of constantly being visible online and offline. The insecurity of not knowing if any of it would last only fed a restless curiosity to try everything, literally. I wore several hats, traveled extensively, spent time away from home, and kept searching for what else was out there for me.

As work consumed a huge part of my identity, I channeled my inner Hannah Montana⁴ and only considered Hannah to be the credible part of myself, and not the Miley part. The version of me that existed outside of a job title felt like a stranger. I had no personal life. I was mostly working, anyway. I remember thinking I wasn’t as interesting as a person, if not for my job. It became this invisible armour that shielded me from getting to know myself outside of “Abbey Sy”.

As I entered my thirties, I thought I would have everything figured out by now. And then came the realization that I was still referring to the requirements list for some sort of structure and guidance, even when no one asked me to. By its measure, I was completely behind. I'm currently single, working freelance, living abroad, and renting an apartment.

But what that list doesn’t account for is everything else. A career that took off beyond what I had imagined (and still going strong, ten years and counting). The growing pains of dreaming big and outside the confines of what I thought was possible. The constant search of who I want to be, where I want to go and how I want to get there. All because I had an ambition and would not stop until I got there.

I really love this birthday greeting a friend sent me

For the first time, I am beginning to understand who I am beyond my job description, and I'm learning to appreciate the person I am still becoming. I show up online not to prove anything anymore. Social media is part of my life and integral to my work, but it no longer holds the same power over me that it once did. It's still a work in progress, but I'm happy to report that I'm taking it one step at a time.

Moving to a foreign city was the first truly selfish choice I made for myself, and I don't regret it. I thought a new place would make me feel like I finally belonged somewhere. It didn't. Belonging was never somewhere I could arrive at. It was something I had to find within myself.

While writing this, I did something I had never done before. I called my mom to ask her if she had any expectations or disappointments having me as a daughter. I braced myself for the answer, thinking she would finally admit how much I had let her down.

But what she said surprised me.

She told me that all she ever wanted was for us to have good grades, be responsible and kind, and by that measure, we had all delivered. “I think me and papa have good genes,” of course she had to blurt that out, love that. She eventually accepted the path I chose, as she saw how happy I've become. And she definitely has no problem accepting all the compliments her friends give her about her daughter.

When I asked if not completing the list would make me less Fil-Chi, she said what mattered more to her was whether I embodied the values: respect, kindness, and yes, speaking Hokkien, which I am proud to still speak. The things that actually carry the culture forward. And when I brought up still being single, a back and forth we've had for years, she simply said, "You'll find your person in your own time, and I believe that."

I had spent years measuring myself against something I thought came from her or the Chinese-Filipino auntie lurking around the family reunion. Turns out, the strictest version of that voice was always my own.

Maybe the only list worth following is the one my heart tells me.

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Author’s note

For years, I measured my life against a list I never chose for myself, and lamented everything I hadn’t ticked off. Even as I celebrated a decade of my creative career last year, I found myself questioning my choices. I was getting tired of that voice. Because deep down, I know this is really as good as it gets, and the only way to live this life fully is to remember how I got here, and trust that it’s a perfectly acceptable road to take. If I don’t trust myself enough, how would I allow myself to live the life I want and deserve?

This piece was written as part of Ouroboros, a writing workshop led by my good friend Carolyn Yoo. What started as an essay on repairing my relationship with myself shapeshifted into something entirely different. It was equal parts scary and cathartic writing this. I was in tears as I called my mom to know what she really thought about all this. Thanks to Caro and the Ouroboros group for providing a safe space during its early stages. I feel so vulnerable putting this on a public space like Substack, but I knew it needed to be here.

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All Mulan screencaps are property of Walt Disney Pictures.

1. From my observations during my time in university (2010-2014), there are a lot of Chinese-Filipino students in De La Salle University. I am a proud alumna! BS Advertising Management, with honors (of course), and (another flex) best thesis with my fab thesis group.

2. This rule is a bit more flexible these days, depending on family dynamics. But there has always been the concept of Great Wall that has always been in circulation in the community.

3. I want to give a disclaimer that this is not a creative course—more on the business side. More info here!

4. For context, Hannah Montana is a Disney Channel sitcom centering around Miley Stewart, who lives a double life as a pop star (thanks to a wig) and no one knows except her close friends and family.