It was a few months before I could bring myself to tell my mother.
She was facing the stove cooking when I told her I wanted to become a nun.
She turned to look at me, awe on her face.
She had always wanted one of us to become a nun or priest.
From there on, she was unfailingly supportive.
Even when she was opposed to my entering the Carmelite Monastery.
"Why don't you join the white sisters, " my mother asked me.
The white sisters are so called because of their white habit.
They are mostly active Sisters, engaged in teaching or hospital work.
"The nuns at the convent told your sister life at the monastery is very hard.
They do not eat meat. Meals are very frugal.
Often, it is porridge served with soy sauce and a few pieces of salted fish.
Not only that, they have to beat themselves till they draw blood."
The latter shocked my family more than anything else.
My siblings felt the same way, making me feel cornered like a rat.
Mother was satisfied she had driven home the message.
But I was not deterred from my goal.
I had my heart set on the Carmelite Monastery.
I knew only one thing, I had to enter that monastery or I would never feel happy.
That was the conviction that carried me all the way into the monastery.
My parents had already signed the letter of consent.
I mailed it in.
When my mother brought up the matter again.
I told her I have already mailed the letter to the nuns.
With that, she let it go and accepted my decision.
I had made my choice and she would abide by that.
My father did not really want me to become a nun.
But he did not oppose my entering the monastery.
He knew better than to do that.
Years earlier, one of my brothers had wanted to become a priest.
My father opposed it vehemently.
One day, he suffered from a terrible headache.
He believed it was a message from God
and promised to let my brother enter the seminary.
His headache left him instantly, affirming him in his belief.
This time I stayed with my decision to enter the monastery.
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