LIV - 1.1 Beginnings

I was an adorable baby loved by everyone in my family. The eldest grandchild on my maternal side. Perhaps it was because I was the first, everyone showered their love and attention on me. 2 grandaunts and 2 aunties travelled to Japan when my mother was pregnant and they helped prepare her for my birth.

I was looked after by them and I am sure life was good back in Tokyo. I have no memories of it, my earliest memories stem from when we were already in Singapore.

My name was almost Livia Fan Ling Mei. Instead, it is now Olivia Tan Ling Wei.

Olivia - Derived from Olive, Meaning Peace

Tan - My Stepfather's Last Name

Ling Wei - Because they thought Ling Mei sounded too Japanese.

I could have grown up in an entirely different culture. In another reality, perhaps I would have been one of those Japanese tourist girls we see so often, vacationing and exclaiming "Kawaii" at every cutesy thing they see.

Instead, my parents seperated and after a journey that brought me through American and Taiwan, my mom settled down in Singapore. I never knew my paternal side of the family. I've seen pictures, I've heard stories, but I don't remember them.

My life was filled with toys and games, cute hair bows and frilly dresses. I even had a cute little miniature LV bag that was the exact same one that my grandmother had, except it was smaller. We lived for a while, in my grandmother's house which was filled with relatives who simply adored me. I remember running around in the garden, sitting on the swing, watching Star Wars on the mega 50 inch TV, even though I didn't realise it was Star Wars until many years later when I watched the first 3 episodes again. I also remember chasing my cousin, who is 8 days older than me, around the house and biting him on the nose when I was asked to kiss him. It bled and I recall getting away with it even then.

I was spoilt.

Perhaps because everyone felt I was such a "poor thing", they took the extra effort to be good to me. I don't think it ever occured to me at that point that I didn't have a father. There was always so many people around and so many pseudo daddies that it never mattered. I was well loved and taken care of.

Our extended family was so huge that we could easily have over 50 people in the house at any point of the day. Even the people who didn't live in the house came by everyday from their own homes. Meals were eaten in shifts. I remember Great-Grandpa always making a fuss during dinner time because he insisted that everyone sit down and greet all the elders before eating. It was a noisy and busy place, but it was a good place to grow up in.