Yup. The title of this blog says it all. Not only am I transitioning from being a pampered breast cancer patient to a go-your-own working woman in a competitive first world country, but I’m also experiencing growing confusion from being young, wild and free girl to a mature, responsible, and goal-oriented adult.

But the weird thing is… as my hair is in it’s awkward stage of growth, so is my placement in the society. I’m kinda’ in this “no longer a girl but not yet fully a woman” category. And it ain’t fun because there’s not much ladies in this side of the box!

Let me elaborate the best way I can.

Thanks to my Asian genetics, I still look like I’m in my 20s because of my petite figure and dewy skin (fancier term for “oily”), but oh do I feel like 40s to 50s because of all the heavy treatment I’ve been through and from being on clinical menopause from Tamoxifen! So people generally see me and treat me as if I’m young but they have no freakin’ idea how I got expedited to maturity because of what I’ve been through last year. Do I wanna hit the bars and drink beer on tap? Not at all baby! I want chamomile tea, a good book and a nap. My typical Friday night!

On social media and commercial castings, I get inquiries to model or endorse products for moms… ummm… but I’m not a mom. And I’m not even sure I want to be one. For castings, I can pretend and play the role but for influencer inquiries, there’s this REALLY WEIRD MOMENT when they ask, “Hi Jaymee! Can we get you to be an influencer for this mom brand? You will love this product!!!” And I go like,”Yes let’s do it! Oh, but I’m not a mother though. Is that okay?” Then complete AWKWARD SILENCE followed by NOTHING. There goes my answer.

In connection to this, when guys find out I’m almost 39, they call me a MILF. I have to say I’m not one because I’m not a mom so… What does that make me then? SILF??? Spinster I’d Like To F*ck?!

With my hair growing in this really awkward stage where it’s all curly ala Bruno Mars, kinda crazy and artsy fartsy, people have complimented me in so many strange ways that I’m not even sure if it’s really a compliment or they’re just being polite. I’ve been told I look unique, edgy, stylish, chic, funky, etc. Bottom line, I just look DIFFERENT. It’s more like, “Wow, you look… ummm… Cute! Feisty! Sleek!” I barely get called “sexy, beautiful or pretty” just like when I had long hair before. It’s okay I guess. I just need to get used to the new compliment terminologies.

Oh don’t even get me started with the men!!! I don’t know if the edgy hair is to blame or my badder ass personality that evolved from the hardcore stuff I’ve been through… but I definitely felt a decrease in head turns and hit ons nowadays. Wait, let me correct that. I still get checked out but it’s more because I look kinda’ “cute” and fun or I seem crazy and would be game for S&M or some weird shit like that. Not because I’m sexy in a sweet and lady-like kind of way. This isn’t exactly a big deal to me but of course, at the end of the day, I’M STILL A WOMAN. And feeling attractive for the opposite sex still matters. So yeah, cute and crazy it is then. Better than no compliments, I guess.

My rich life experiences coming from a dysfunctional family, building a showbiz career, traveling the world alone, winning over breast cancer and living the creative life technically classifies me as a bonafide adult. But not having any investments, no family of my own, no big financial responsibilities and commitments and no anchor to tie me down anywhere places me in this woman-child limbo. I’m mature enough to hang out with grown-ups but I can’t relate to their investments, marriage and children talk. So I swing over to the millennials but I’m too old for their love problems, career searching and consumer-driven mentality. That’s why I’d rather sit in one corner and write this blog than feel misplaced in social conversations.

A part of me wants to go nuts and do whatever the hell I want… live like it’s the last day on Earth because of my close death encounter… spend on whatever makes me happy, not think too much, just indulge and LIVE. But a part of me wants to plant roots, get settled and establish something that will yield benefits on the long overhaul. That’s the responsible side of me craving for some sense of stability and security as I’m almost about to hit 40. So again, I confuse people when I vent because I keep turning tables. One day, I talk about wanting to travel the world on a budget and give Hollywood a shot. The next day, I express desire in opening a good business and getting my own place to get settled. Yup. Confused A.F.

I’m nearing my 40s, an immigrant living in America for 3 years, who lived in other parts of the world which resulted to my weird English accent and cultural diversity. So I’m originally Asian with an Australian experience that got cultured in Europe and now becoming Americanized. So strangers get confused when I explain why I’m not too Filipino nor American enough. Talk about halo-halo.

And when people ask what do I do for a living, I want to hide under the nearest closet as I don’t know how to make it simple. I’m a mixture of an artist, life blogger, inspirational influencer, commercial model, YouTuber, writer, ranter, events host, motivational speaker and now a nail stylist along with being a part-time residential apartment concierge. I’m so used to people just giving me this strange “what the hell is she doing with her life” every time I explain what I do but I’m used to it. I guess that’s part of being an artist living the creative life… not everyone will understand your jam and that’s part of the deal.

So yeah. Let’s see how my transition evolves. But for now, all I can do is glide through life as a woman-child, deal with all these awkward thoughts and human encounters, find comfort in being misplaced as a non-mom at 38, non-full adult, non-conventional life and own this somewhat cute and crazy curly awkward hair.

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