Permission to be myself

Given how intense my emotions have been, I decided I needed some good self-care and contacted my therapist for some tele-therapy.

I felt so much better after that conversation. My therapist, Angel, let me cry, voice my frustration without judgment, and then she helped me contextualize my feelings. She helped me understand why my reactions have felt so explosive, and to see its connection with deeper-rooted issues.

1. I miss my family, period.  And no matter how unfair it is that I'm putting it onto Jay (or even other friends), the fact of the matter is I feel displaced and I'm looking to fill that void and establish that connection everywhere.
2. I am an organized person that needs a lot of clarity. People communicate differently and it's OK to ask people for more details. Ask! Putting myself out there to have my needs met is better than preserving an image and restricting myself until I can no longer handle having my needs be minimized and I explode with questions. But I'm scared of asking.
3. I have made a lot of sacrifices (consciously or unconsciously) and am trying to understand if those sacrifices are "worth it." I'm trying to understand if my decisions (e.g., moving here!) are the right decisions. I'm unsure, scared, and fearful of past, present, and future decisions I have to make and the sacrifices that come along. For example: Would I choose to permanently stay here because of my relationship with Jay?
4. I adapt easily to accommodate peoples' wants, desires, and preferences. I can anticipate ahead of time what they want and mold myself accordingly. Consequently, I haven't been able to "be myself" in any circumstance. Not professionally, not in my romantic relationship, not even with friends given their overlap with my work. 
5. I live in constant fear of being rejected. I am terrified that something ugly about me will be discovered and I will be abandoned-- with no explanation. That's how my 1st relationship ended and I have since held-on to the assumption that there is something inherently "wrong" with me. I don't know what "it" is, but it's the only thing I can explain for when I try to understand the sudden break-up in my first relationship.

At the end of our session, Angel asked me to think about my life history and to recall when I've had permission to be myself.

Permission to be myself? 

100% me?

Her question stumped me and I realized that I have never felt like that was a possibility. Bam! 

I hadn't know that was how I lived my entire  life. I hadn't known that everything I know about relationships is how to compartmentalize and show only certain parts of myself with particular people.  It's no wonder I have a gajillion friends and yet still feel lonely sometimes. I can adapt to any social group I want and it's because I can identify with certain aspects of people or a group of people. 

But ask me if I've been able to be completely, wholly 100% of myself in a particular group or even with one friend?-- and I don't know if I could say yes to that question.

I don't think I've ever felt like I could be 100% of myself with my parents, either. Definitely not my father, and probably not my mother, if I'm being truly honest. Wow.

One-way relationships

Earlier tonight, I called Jay to say hi. He had just hung up the phone with his mom, and said that she inquired whether I liked them because they really liked me! They hoped I felt the same way because they wanted to leave a positive impression on me!

I was so happy to hear that his parents loved me; and very surprised that they cared about my feelings. 

You see, in my culture, there's no such thing as older generations caring for the opinions of younger generations.  My parents' generation would never inquire whether their children's prospective partners liked them.  No way.  The evaluation is a one-way street, a top-down approach marked by seniority, respect, power, and generation status.  Never in a million years would my parents ask me what Jay thinks about them.  It's not personal, of course.
They're not against Jay nor do they dislike him. However, they would never care to ask what Jay thinks of them because it has no bearing on anything. All that matters is their opinion, end of story.

This cultural difference between our families has me reflecting on my relationships. Especially with older men in the past, I've submitted myself to them with great deference. From a cultural standpoint, I am a younger, Asian woman who despite identifying as a feminist, also subscribes to traditional gender roles at times.  I enjoy that feeling of taking care of my man. I feel a great sense of pride cooking for him, helping him make decisions about domestic issues (e.g., what shirt to get), and being responsible for his health and well-being.  I value my female identity, my nurturer identity, and my womanhood. I get way more satisfaction out of that than than my career identity. Note: Some may discredit me altogether at this point.  But it's who I am, and I get to make that choice. For that reason alone, I still see myself as a feminist.

When matched with the wrong person, such as in relationships when I've been taken advantaged of, my deference toward my male partner, often my older partner (my supposedly-wiser partner), my cultural identity becomes abused. I focus entirely on what he wants, what he thinks, what he likes, and I completely forget that I even have needs. It becomes a one-way relationship focused solely on the other party's perspective rather than balancing the desires of two people in the relationship.

I've mentioned before that I hate the term "co-dependency," "love addition," or whatever word that assumes full responsibility on the individual. Hearing Jay talk about his parents today confirmed that much of my beliefs have also been culturally-based, and not entirely about me being pathological.

My deference is cultural, as is my submissiveness, gender role adherence, and focus on pleasing the other person.  If I can see myself from a cultural perspective, I can also see strength, resilience, and opportunities to experiment in different cultural contexts.

Wow! How empowering that is, and how liberating.  Having had this experience with Jay and his family, I am learning, experientially, and in-the-moment, that I also have a voice and opinion. My perspective also matters! I get to have a say in the relationship as well.

It's so refreshing to know that I matter, my thoughts, opinions, and voice matters, and that people want to hear them. 

I have a voice that can be heard.
I have an opinion that can be spoken.
I have thoughts that are genuinely interesting to others.
My perspective is valued.
I am valued.
And in turn, I am worthy.

Self-love

My recent posts are a good reminder of why I started this blog. Without any love for myself, I am merely a hollow shell waiting to be filled.

My identity, my confidence, my sense-concept is entirely defined by the other person. Whoever that paramour is, his perception of me is what shapes who I am.

My mind operates like this:
When I don't hear from him, I feel like I have no value.
When I think he likes something about me, I amplify that part of me ten-fold because it's what he wants.
In-between those times, when there is self-doubt, I critique all aspects of me and wonder which part is unlovable and deserving of being abandoned.

If I were a jar, I would be just sitting there. Passively waiting to be filled, hopeful for fleeting feelings of "bliss" and "in love" and "happy."  Once I reach cloud 9, however, downhill spiral begins. I am mired in anxiety, anticipating emptiness.


I live in a constant state of fear and anxiety because I don't exist until someone comes along to validate parts of me. Only then, can I birth my existence. There is no self-love here. There is not even a sense of "self" in the picture.

Well, I can't live like that anymore. I can't be in relationships like that anymore. This time, it's not the other person that is unhealthy, it's me. I can't be in such an unhealthy relationship with myself anymore.

Much of the time I wrote in this blog, I've been single and actively self-reflecting. Throughout the course of maintaining these journal entries, I grew to be at my healthiest: physically, emotionally, spiritually, etc. But I was single and that was a large part of my success. Being single means I was 100% committed to having a healthy relationship with me.

In a relationship with someone else? That changes my entire relationship with myself, so this is my new journey for the year.

As a belated new year's resolution, I challenge myself to have simultaneously healthy relationships with my beau and with me. I will strive to not lose parts of myself along the way. I will aspire not to give-up on myself at the outset.

I created this blog for the simple reason of having a better relationship with myself. This is what I have been working toward all these years and it all has to do with cultivating love for me.

Self-love: I'm coming for ya.

A great day today

I have so many great news to share that I don't know where to begin.

For starters, I submitted my 241 whopping whale of a dissertation this week.  It is officially out-of-my-hands. Whoopee!!

I also had lunch with my adviser today and we talked about anything and everything.  Although I don't see him much, we occasionally have these meetings that just make me feel so warm and fuzzy inside.  I suppose that in the 6 years that I've been here, he should know me.  Nevertheless, I'm always surprised when he says things to me that capture exactly how I feel, or exactly what's happening in my life.

Over lunch at this gorgeous Thai restaurant in town-- our annual Spring lunches, mind you, we talked about my dissertation, my plans this summer for internship, my attempts to be physically active and healthy, and we also talked about what's happening on the relationship front.  My adviser actually met B. that day when he randomly showed up in front of my office.  Before that, I had told him a bit about our relationship, so he knew the backdrop.  As we ate, he asked what happened after running into him, and if I'm officially done with that relationship these days.  As we talked, he shared that prior to meeting his wife, he has also had similar experiences like me, and he has known others who "take care of others before taking care of yourself."

I was so surprised that he hit the nail on the head.  How does he know me so well?

He knew exactly what my problem was/is, and not only did he understand it, but he was not judgmental whatsoever.  He was validating and he normalized my experience by sharing his own very personal experiences in relationships.  He said that many of us in the helping professionals struggle with finding reciprocal relationships because we simply have so much love to give (and we can sometimes give it to the wrong people in our personal lives). He told me stories about his own love life, and he talked about the challenges that he has struggled with as well. I have never felt as close to him as I did today.  And I felt so honored that he was willing to share it with me.

You now what else? I also grew from this experience just seeing him talk. When he spoke and shared his experiences, he did not talk with shame. He talked about experiences similar to mine, when an ex-partner under-appreciates you and treats you like shit, but you still want them at the expense of your own well-being.  What was also strange was that when I heard him talk, I didn't judge him either.  I didn't judge him in the way I would judge myself if it were my story.  Instead, when I listened to him, I saw only his strengths. I felt empathy but it wasn't pity or shame.  It was a kind of respect, validation, and understanding. Knowing his struggles made him even more human to me.

So since then, I've been wondering... why can't I see myself in that way as well? Why can't I view me as being "more human" than I thought? Why do I judge myself so harshly?

Tonight, I baked homemade organic cookies for Mr. Z with a recipe that I adapted from here.

I didn't follow the exact ratios, but I did come up with some awesome cookies in all sorts of shapes: xmas trees, gingerbread men, stars, hearts, a weird cross, a flowery circle... and Mr. Z devoured those cookies too, which has made me even happier because I was worried he wouldn't like them.

I'm actually flying on cloud 9 because of my conversation with my adviser today, my successful attempt at making homemade treats for Mr. Z tonight, and because my entire apartment currently smells like peanut butter and honey right now... which is absolutely wonderful.

Being alone.

Can't sleep on a Saturday morning at 6am.  Monday thru Friday, I am dying to sleep just a few more minutes after my alarm goes. But now look! On this bright and early Saturday morning, I find myself unable to sleep past 530am. UGH.

As I sit alone in my living room, I reflect again on my alone-ness and how spiritual this experience is for me.  When driving home last night, I found myself reflecting about my current lifestyle and how it's been healing me because I don't have to constantly keep taking care of others.

In the past few months, being alone has felt incredibly empowering. In almost all relationships, I feel the responsibility to take care of the other person.  Whether it is a romantic relationship, a friendship, or even an acquaintance, I think about their needs/wants/desires/preferences. Especially in a romantic relationship, their stuff always trumps my own.  This is why I feel so empowered these days to eat what I want, do what I want, and stick to a schedule that fits me without having to consider another person.

I've also realized that my responsibility toward others is not just toward human life.  When I'm working at home, I think about Mr. Z and what he wants.  I'm distracted by his needs and so I struggle with getting my work done.  In the past week, I've spent entire mornings at the coffee shop so I can do my work without having him there.  Leaving him has felt pretty selfish, but I've also been working my way up to leaving and not feeling guilty about having activities outside-of-the-house.  Before having a dog, I used to be home very very rarely.  Other than cook, eat, sleep, and watch some TV, I was never really here.  But now that I have a dog, I spend as much time here as possible, even moving my social activities into my home so that I stay with Mr. Z.  In many ways, I am happier (see earlier post on my emotional, physical, and spiritual growth because of Mr. Z).  At the same time, however, I feel a decrease in productivity because I do feel anchored to my home.

Why is it that I can only focus on myself when I am completely and utterly alone?  Why can't I do it with someone else in the room or in my space? Why do I always prioritize others before myself?

The 2 places that allow me to focus on me is: 1) airplane/airport and 2) coffee shop.  Let me elaborate: when travelling, I have long enjoyed the fact that I can stick on my earphones and tune out the world altogether.  I can choose to make zero eye contact and I can focus completely and utterly on my thoughts, my getaway, my destination, and my plans. It's completely socially appropriate and acceptable.  In fact, it's the norm that most people don't talk to each other during those journeys.  Because I tend to fly at least once a month, I also look forward to it as an empowering experience between high up in the air, removed from everything and everyone.  You are simply alone and you cannot take care of others even if you wanted to.  I am alone from people, from things, from connections, from all sorts of responsibilities.  I would prefer not having the option of wi-fi in the sky simply because that's the one and only place that allows me to get away from it all.

As for the coffee shop, I also feel it is an "alone" experience because I sit alone in my own table.  My space is that table, and with the table being open, I am (happily) alone.  Having studied before with other people, I enjoy the social aspect but am also distracted by their needs as well.  Are they tired of studying? Am I talking too much/little? Do they seem like they are antsy to get out of there? etc. etc.  Yesterday, while sitting at a local coffee shop, I saw a couple study together at the table next to me.  I felt a stab in my heart and was reminded of my studying days with B.  That was probably what our life most resembled: study dates together because we commiserated over our doctoral work and enjoyed/needed to do work all the time.  And yes, on the one hand, it was great because it was both productive and semi-romantic at the same time.  On the other hand, I hated studying with him because he would stay for hours and hours while I got colder and hungrier at the coffee shops.  I also hated going with him because he would often make me leave early to drive him around to other places.  But the chauffeuring part is another story altogether.  That's just one sad story of being taken advantaged of and letting myself be constantly taken advantaged of.  My point about the coffee shop is that I love going alone! And the more I think about it, I am so glad that I will never have to go to a coffee shop with B. again. Seeing that couple yesterday made my heart ache but it also made me feel nauseous.  I hate B. right now and want nothing closely related to him or what we did together.  Romance is out of the question, and so is studying with a romantic partner.  Seeing all these couples make me want to gag.

Taking care of others too much

A few days ago, I re-experienced feelings I had when I was with B. -- feelings of resentment, anger, feeling stuck, helpless, and also frustration towards him and myself.

It happened when a friend invited himself to cook at my place.  This friend, who I will call Will, messaged me out of the blue to say he wants to cook and is dying to learn some of my dishes. We had met 5 years ago at an event that I hosted, and we had struck up great conversation and had lots of laughs.  In truth, I don't know much about him or vice versa, but since he was so insistent on cooking together, I eventually said OK and then went shopping for all the groceries we would need for our weekend cook-fest.

Despite feeling stressed about all my schoolwork, I figured we'd spend about 3-4 hours cooking and eating together.  In the end, Will came and we cooked and we had a great time for about.. 5 hours. But then he stayed even after the dishes were cleared, after the dishes were washed, and after I packed him food to take home!  He invited himself to do his homework here.  And the whole time he talked on and on and on and on about his relationship woes and about what he wants with his life.

Don't me wrong, I love to hear what's happening with friends and to catch up. I love cooking too, and the combination of friends + food is usually heavenly for me!  But Will drained me.  Will's entire visit drained me. He didn't help much in the kitchen because he refused to touch raw meat. He didn't offer to help me with dishes (at least fake offer), and he invited himself to stay and ended up being in my place for 9 hours! I had to feed him dinner too, and when he left and took some food home, he didn't even say thanks.  That was the worst part.  He didn't even say thank you.

After Will left, I was infuriated with myself. I was so resentful and angry and frustrated-- all at myself.  Why was I such a good hostess even when I wanted him out of the house so that I could recharge by myself and do my work? Why did I continuously offer him more drinks and ask about his comfort when he was already overstaying his visit?  Why did I focus so much on his comfort rather than my own-- because I was damn well uncomfortable with him being here for SOOOOO long!

Those feelings are what I had with B., toward the end, the middle, and maybe even the beginning of the relationship.

I was NEVER fully comfortable with B.  He was always so picky, so nit-picky, so judgmental, so critical, so condescending, so insulting, so negative... I could never fully be comfortable because I was always wanting him to feel more content/comfortable/happy.  I always catered to his needs while feeling like I was walking on pins and needles myself.  Being with him was like holding my breath and continuously reminding myself: "Just do a good job, cater to his needs, and then when he leaves, then he'll be gone so you can focus on you!"  I always wanted a good ending; a good parting.  I wanted him to have an awesome experience so that when it's over, he will have positive memories.  I never considered myself in the equation-- my needs were on the back-burner... waiting until his needs are met and when he leaves-- that I can finally attend to myself.

The worst part of it all is the inconsistent and conflicting feelings I had inside and on the outside.  The more I resented him, the more I wanted out of the relationship, the more I realized how terrible he was as a human being... the more I catered to his needs.  As if I hadn't bent-over-backwards enough to begin with, I did it 10 times more once I realized how much I despised him in my heart.
The worse I felt on the inside, the more attentive I became to his needs.  Why? I don't know.  I have racked my head again and again and again, and I simply don't know.  All I can hypothesize is that I knew it would be over and I wanted a good ending.  I wanted some sort of harmony and positive memory before the chapter would end.

Also, I think I wanted to have no regrets.  I didn't want to walk away and wonder later if I could have tried harder.  I didn't want to regret not giving 100000% of myself at the end and wondering if it would have made a difference.

In this way, I suppose it makes sense that I ignore my needs and take care of others first. It's something I really want to work on and to eventually stop doing.  It's something I want to change because it's entirely unhealthy. I am split apart into 2 halves: both on extreme ends of the spectrum and both equally intense.  That inconsistency is not healthy and I want to have congruency.  I want my inside (feelings) to match my outside (expression/behavior). That's healthy.  That's wholesome.

"Everything I do, I do for you"

Awww, how romantic: "everything I do, I do for you."

NOT!!

How unromantic.  How crippling! How co-dependent!

These days, I have very negative reactions to statements such as these.  Why does our culture (societal) promote such co-dependence in romantic relationships?  Why do we romanticize losing yourself in a relationship and possibly foregoing our own goals so that our only focus is on the other person?

I am resentful of these kinds of "romantic" messages because I fall for them.  I subscribe to them. And I am a loyal believer in them. I've been a romantic since I was a kid! And I continue to adopt this way of thinking even though I'm trying to tell myself "I should know better..."

As I prepare for interviews these days, the reality sinks in that I may be moving back to my hometown for my next year of my training.  And while that is exciting on one hand (because my family is there), it is heartbreakingly depressing because I always envisioned myself back there with my first love.  I always envisioned returning to be a reunion for us.  I hadn't expected to go back and be... alone. I suppose if I were dating someone else, I wouldn't be feeling alone.  On the other hand, I suspect that even if I were with anyone else, I would still feel a twinge of nostalgia and sadness that it's not him I'm with. When I'm home, I can't understand why we're not together.  But when I'm on my own, away from my hometown, I do pretty well for myself.  It's like I'm a different person.

How can I explain it? There's something about being far away that makes our breakup acceptable. Yet when I'm home for the holidays, not being together feels... wrong.  It feels unnatural. So when I go home for the holidays, I get anxious, distressed, impulsive, compulsive, obsessive, and unable to understand why we are not together.

"Everything I do, I do for you." Years ago, I thought that the only reason I'd move back home was to be with Robert.  But I guess I'm doing it for me now.  I guess I'm doing it for my family too.  I don't know.  It still feels unnatural and I have to remind myself not to purposely mess up because I'm so terrified of being back there alone and without him.