My Dad had once told me to grow balls. It was on a glorious Sunday morning and our neighbours’ roosters were bursting with life. The rest of the house was still deeply asleep as it was just the break of dawn. I could taste freshly baked bread and steaming butter as their lingering traces filled the air inside my chest. My Mum had just lovingly prepared breakfast. I was 8yrs old, short and skinny, with an empty stomach yet fuelled with courage - it was my first day attending Taekwondo. I was just a boy with innocence swimming around me but I was determined to learn the skills to protect the people that I truly treasure on this planet and to perhaps one day gallantly stand up for the ones I am going to love and share my life with.
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