Part Two: Who Am I?
“Ah, so you are a child of a Mof,” spat the father of my friend from 5th grade. The word “Mof,” a degradation of a German, does not stand for anything good. My foster mom from the Dutch East Indies begins to fill the void of emotional and physical presence of parents in my life. Now I’m integrating three cultures, Dutch, German and Indonesian. My adult-self regresses to a childlike presence when it comes to relationships with men and at times women. I’m unable to handle love coming my way. Instead, I enter a world of childlike romantic fantasy. These friendships die of suffocation as if in the grip of a boa. A search for freedom thunders through my life.