For all my blessings

All my life I’ve been completely insecure with myself. I was sure that I was the ugliest, stupidest, loneliest little girl. I simply don’t know how to feel good about myself, and everything good calls for validations. Grades (even though they don’t mean anything). Friends (even though they just pretend to be). Achievements (even though they came with a price).

Somehow, I changed. Internally I became so self-sufficient that any forms of bad judgments on me are not only ignorable, they’re wrong. I can prove them wrong, and I can make them regret that wrongdoing. I’m now so strong that the outside world can’t hurt me anymore.

Now I don’t know what made me change. I also don’t know whether this change represents me going forward or backward, but what I do know, I now have something I didn’t have before.

My muses.

Several people whose worlds coincide mine, some in the most random way imaginable. Most of them I wasn’t too impressed with during first encounters. It usually takes several weeks, months, maybe half a year, before I started noticing these beautiful souls. And once that came out, there was no way I could resist being charmed.

How could I not be charmed? These souls, they’re all so open. So serene and sure of their own selves, they do more than believing or rejecting outside world – they affect their world. They have the ability to accept with so much sincerity, and give back with so much passion. They make “strong people” like me wonder why we’re so proud of being strong after all. I’m so proud of being able to resist negativity that it became a significant part of who I am, and yet for these people, negativity do not even exist.

People in this group aren’t necessarily fascinating. Throughout the years I’ve seen all of them being insensitive, tactless, rude, or simply stupid. They’re not the most popular people you’ll see, nor the smartest, nor the most attractive. These people are average, sometimes even below, but this just made me more fascinated – how could I be so deeply enchanted by them, and yet still very much aware of their shortcomings? What is this non-judgmental pure affection bestowed upon them?

That’s when I realized I must have fallen in love with every one of them.

When you spent half your life being so exposed to negativity, and the other half building a wall of defense, you pretty much don’t know what it means to love someone. You can’t even make you like yourself. So when I meet people who magically produce that exhilaration, that pure feeling I never knew I had, the one I had tried to prevent from happening in the first place, it puts me in awe. So much that I don’t want to let go. I want to keep myself exposed to that feeling; I want to keep hanging on to their every move, to watch that magic happen again and again. I want to know if my humble self can rise to their world, I want to be able to show affection so purely too. I want other people to know that I truly love my muses.

And so I’ve come to this blatant, nearly-disturbing point of obsession over them. My face lights up whenever I see them. I made a conscious effort to always be near them. I get jealous over them. Even when they’re not around, I love talking about them. Before this post I wasn’t sure what to call this group of people – then I realized how much they inspire me. Everything I do, write, and say is affected by them. They shape my opinions, contribute to my ideas, defined my spirit, without even realizing it. I had to give them credit. Every time someone gives me a compliment, I can point out a certain person who helped attract that compliment, and 97% of the time these people are those I consider my muses.

But the thing is, I don’t tell them all this. Yeah, I say how much I like them, but I hardly ever explained why. Reason: I don’t want to scare them away. Doesn’t matter how much their personality fascinates me; for them it’s simply the way of living. Living purely is a natural way, and they never intend to affect or fascinate anyone. Having someone looking up at you isn’t necessarily a good thing, because there’s that bond, that expectation to live up to people’s standard. The things with these souls, they’re too free – they disregard expectations (social and personal) because that’s what ties most people down.

So no, I don’t tell them why I like them so much.

I’m forced to interact normally with them, act as if we’re equal human beings, at times even mocking them – because I don’t want them to know how dependent I am on them. Frustrating, and there are times when I can’t help it and blurted something out. It’s all very much pathetic, extreme and incomprehensive.

Now tell me if that’s not love.

A couple of years ago I probably couldn’t even think about love. Now I find myself giving out a disturbingly large amount of love, and being proud of it.

Now tell me if that’s not a blessing.

What to do

1. Realize that he's not doing any of this intentionally to hurt you. I know you think you know that already, but keep that in mind whenever you felt like getting slapped in the face and you wanted to be mad at him. Realize that it's you slapping yourself, and that's your problem, not his.

2. Realize that he's not good in handling a lot of issues at the same time. So if you really want to be a good friend, lay off the selfish talks when you know he's busy. And you know he's busy. It's just not the right time to make amends. He's making amends with other people now, people more important to him than you. If you want to be selfish, the least you can do is to acknowledge the facts.

3. When sudden pain attacks, get busy. You've done this therapy before and it seemed to work. Keep a book in sight to keep you distracted, or be as engaged in anything else as you can. Bear in mind that during that one painful weekend, you came out feeling gorgeous and a lot smarter. Only next time, don't break down again the minute you saw them.

4. Remember that you always knew this was going to end, and now's the time...you already knew that even though you talked to him, things may not be fixed. And I'm not even saying this can't be fixed forever.

5. Be realistic. And that includes being realistic about the previous 4 things. All of them are logically true, but keep in mind you actually knew some of those truth are made up. You don't know which ones, but you know some of them came from the heart, not the brain. So don't beat yourself up if some of them sounds stupid.

6. Try not to let no.5 stop you from doing the right thing.

Midnight.

I bet you'd never guess,

But this is the second time I cried over you this time of day.

Isn't that strange? You'd think I have better things to do at 1 AM rather than fussing over some outrageously-blown-out-of-proportion issue. Sleep, for instance. Or smoke my brains out (too bad I don't smoke). Or get hammered (too bad I don't do that either). Or get laid (nope, never done that). Or do weird stuff, get to work, surf the web, anything, ANYTHING that might be contributive to the mind and/or soul! Just never think gloomy thoughts in the middle of the night. That's the loneliest time of day.

The thing is, I don't know if it's the situation, or is it just because of the time, or maybe because I'm always insecure...but this is one of those moments where I just sat down not knowing what to do.

I don't know what to do about you.

I'm tired of bringing myself to face this over and over again. I want it to end.
I want my head to stop telling me to compare and expect. Two of the things I do way too much.

And then I began to think,
maybe this is all just a big mistake. Perhaps I shouldn't have gotten too acquaintanced with you. Maybe I should've just keep a distance, just like I do to most people, right after the fun part ends. Maybe I should have not allowed it to develop, taking it to another level, all that crap. Maybe I should've just forget about the whole thing, instead of trying to improve the relationship.
Most importantly, maybe I shouldn't have told you how I feel. I mean, I don't do that to most people I'm close with anyway. I don't know what I was thinking that time, telling you all that stuff. I mean, yeah, sure you'll be flattered, and I'm sure at the moment you felt pretty good about the whole thing.
But that's just the thing : I don't know exactly what you think about all this. I'm sure it's nice to have someone declaring their affection to you, but what if you don't feel the same way? What if you don't feel anything at all, except that you're supposed to be nice to this person who'd been so open to you?
What if you don't need someone like me to be so open to you?
What if you already have people close to your heart, and I don't fit into their quality?
Can I really be upset over that?

And you know the worst part is, I may be bawling like crazy now, but it'll all just came out here. Tomorrow I'm going to see you with a smile on my face, exchange a few greetings, then pretend to get busy because I don't want to bother you who's actually really busy. Or maybe I'm just scared you're not really busy, but you just lost interest in talking to me.

And you will never guess.

I'm Taking It Back to "Me" Again

I don't get compassion, at least not the way I see it being expressed. I don't know if what I see everyday is sincerity and kindness, or am I just looking at a reinterpreted version, but if that's the way people do it, then I am neither kind or sincere, let alone compassionate.

Too bad, though. I know I don't pass on as "nice", but I do care about other people. The problem is, my definition of "other people" is pretty much "people I find worth concerning about", like my friends/family/people in need of assistance.
Families and people in need are easy to define, but what's the boundary on friends? I'm not sure, just people I grew close to, really. That's a dynamic boundary, which I'm comfortable in, because the only reason I stay in a relationship is when we both make each other happy. If one of us lose the ability, thus eliminating the chemistry, it's over. Then again, if none of us ever lose it, then I'm either partially or fully enslaved by that person. And this is the kind of relationship I build with my friends, whether they realized it or not.

Well, okay. Enslaved might be too big of a word. We all do favors for our friends anyway. The reason I picked that word is because I've had some unfortunate choices of friends way back when, and these people would take advantage of me like you wouldn't imagine. Then again, now that I am (hopefully) blessed with better friends, I still sometimes feel like my friends take me for granted.

I have two reasons for this, and both eventually blame myself. First is my problem-solving nature. It goes like this: I see a troubled friend, I do what I can to help them. At the least, I give an array of solutions. This is my definition of compassion. It's a terrible thing to adopt, really, but what it does is keeping me in a pragmatic view of my peers. Consolation is an unknown term. If I fail to help solve the problem, I get frustrated myself - partly because the problem isn't solved, partly because my friend remains troubled. On general cases, though, I do a pretty good job in helping out people, and it's fair to assume that people do come to me to ask for favors. Which sometimes makes me wonder "Am I just here to find a solution?"

The second reason is my understanding of the word "favor", or lack thereof. Meaning: I'm not good in weighing appropriate favors to do for / ask from my friends. Sometimes I do too much, sometimes I expect too much. Simply put, sometimes I get upset because I am a slave of people, other times I get upset because people don't reciprocate. I just don't know to what extent can you play this relationship game, and as a result, I often lose.

I'm wondering, as I'm always wondering, whether the people I love really love me back, or am I just an object of manipulation. This leads to that big question "Why do you have to love and expect something back?"

Because being ignored is not better than being hated. Especially when it's someone you love.

On Starting Over

So I was at a mall the other day (alone of course), and there was this new gorgeous jewelry stall. Looking at the owner, however, I assumed this was an expensive stall.

Now first of all, I hate it when people don’t put price tags on their products. It’s hard to believe that there aren’t more important things a store owner can do rather than calling out prices (redundantly, I might add) every time a customer is nearby. What makes this even more ridiculous is how this usually happens in an expensive place. So when a customer ask for the price of an item, it’s usually some really high price that most customers probably can’t afford anyway, and now the poor soul who asked for the price in the first place had to find a way to back off without seeming like they can’t afford the item. Of course this is especially hard because the store owner would’ve assumed that the customer was already interested in the item, since the customer had the guts to ask for the price, and would start thinking up ways to persuade the customer. So now you have an overly excited seller and a nervous buyer. At this stage, whether the customer buys the product or not, someone’s still going to leave feeling slightly betrayed. So why not avoid all the hurting and let the price tags do their job?

I’m starting to lose focus here. So anyway I was at this stall, and I was looking at this necklace that has no price tag (obviously you would’ve guessed that, why else would I be ranting on about it?). The stall’s owner was busy manhandling a customer, a woman with heavy makeup and excessive use of hairspray. First clue this was an expensive stall. I recognize who the owner is right away because he was talking excitedly about the product (very rare to see a mere store keeper do that), and he was giving away name cards with a website address on it. Second clue this was an expensive stall.

I knew the necklace I had my eye on was going to be outrageously expensive, and if I asked, I was going to have to think of a way to graciously walk away, but I was still curious anyway. Plus the woman with heavy makeup was gone and the owner was approaching me. So I decided to try something.

I asked for the price in English.
And as I don’t live in an English-speaking country, this immediately startled the owner, causing him to stutter a bit before coming up with a coherent, and English, answer. The price was indeed out of my league, so I replied with long complex sentences, which startled the owner even more. At the silence moment of him figuring out what to do next, I escaped.

Bottom line, I love those moments when you pretend to be someone else and people believe it.

Now I’ve actually done this many times before. Sometimes I pretend to be a native English speaker in places where you don’t normally speak English, so I’ll stand out and get special treatment, or I pretend to be a native English speaker in places where everybody else speak English, so I’ll blend in and not get “special” treatment. And it’s not limited in language too. Once I told a guy at this salon that I was married, and the whole time he did my hair we talked about marriage life. My biggest lie was when I told my students that I was 23 years old (when I was really 19), and for the next one year, every time I walked into that class I was a 23-year-old teacher, minutes away from my bachelor degree, with a 2-year teaching experience (when I was really a 19-year-old freshman, and this class was the second class I ever taught).

I love doing this because in a different personality, everything you normally do would seem different. Just like the case of the necklace at the stall.

Before I go any further, I’ve had some complaints saying that I acted too much and people don’t know who the real me is. This is weird because I don’t even think this is something you can complain about. Why can’t it be that the real “me” is someone who likes to play someone else? Yes, I know that this may just be a phase of identity searching and ultimately I may have to settle being just one person for the rest of my life. I know that this may also be a form of denial, where I don’t want to accept who I really am, and I’m showing signs of immaturity, as in “unnecessarily trying out weird stuff”. I understand that all these complaints are logical, and I also understand that until I find someone who can accept my “condition”, it’s going to be very hard for me to be in a relationship. Why am I suddenly talking about relationship, you ask? Because I got some of these complaints from my ex.

Anyway. Change mood back to “excited”.

The biggest fun of pretending to be someone else is watching people then form their opinion about you. I find it really funny that when you go to your class wearing tomboy clothes for one day and ultra-feminine the next, people will get confused and ask me what my style really is. I don’t understand why it confuses people that I try out different things!

All this came to mind when I was going to this conference a week ago. Conferences are particularly fun because that’s the best place to try out being a different person. Nobody knows who you are, but everybody’s eager to get to know you. Perfect.
Strangely, I didn’t have to do much to confuse people at this conference. After 24 hours a guy actually came up to me and said, “You know, at first glance I thought you were a Filipino or Malaysian (which I’m not), but then you started talking about this exotic food (which happened to come from my country), and now you’re sitting at a table that says ‘Poland’(which I did because I was accompanying my Polish friend)! So where are you from, really?”
Now I’ve never met this guy in my life, and this question shocked me for two reasons: a) I didn’t realize I was creating such a varied state of persona, which confused people, and b) I didn’t realize there are people who care so much to be confused in the first place! Apparently, there's such a big expectation of you being one person only, that when you're not, complete strangers will notice.

So you see, all of this equals fun.

Let’s take it to another level. Every time I switched to a new school, I have the chance to be a completely new person, and if I succeed, everybody in the new school will automatically assume that this is the way I’ve always been. This last bit can be quite annoying. I’m a believer that the way you evolve over the years will add depth to your personality, so if I’m assumed to have always stayed the same, it felt like I’m assumed as a shallow person. During elementary years my family’s financial condition was not excellent, and it showed, and even though it’s much better now, people I know from elementary still looked at me with a certain state in mind. I find it equally annoying that in my university, some people assumed I had always been well off since I was little, which is not only totally untrue but also made me look like I can’t live below the standard in which I’m living now.
Annoying as it is, at this point you can still have fun by doing things people wouldn’t expect “you” (the way they know you) would do...like talking knowledgeably about Dominatrix videos if you always dress conservatively. Realize that you’re most likely to have all these contradicting elements inside you. Don’t suppress the minor elements, celebrate each one of them. Show your evil / angel side periodically. When you’re good at it, show it simultaneously. Watch your friends go, “Wow, I didn’t know you’re that kind of person”.

Honey, I’m always the kind of person you didn’t expect me to be.

Here's The Thing, Lady.

I recognize that reaction. You got that same look in your eyes as I do when I’m looking at you and him.
The truth is, a lot of people can tell you beautiful stories. You get to decide if it’s really that beautiful to hear.
Haven’t you realized this a long time ago? You can’t have it perfectly both ways. If you decided to enjoy what you have just like you’re doing right now, then you’ll never going to be that woman on top of the mountains who intimidates the hell out of everyone! And you don’t need to be that kind of woman anyway, who says life up there is better?

Why must you be jealous of people who strive for more when you’re already satisfied with your life now? They’re different from you. People who strive for more will never be satisfied with their lives now. How do you think they got their name in the first place?

I will always wish I have what you two have. That’s a fact, and that’s always a fact no matter what kind of person I turn into. I look at you and think, My God, why would you wish for anything else? You’ve got everything you’re ever going to need for the rest of your life right next to you.
And I know that sometimes you don’t think that’s enough. Sometimes, when you see people like, well, me, you’re reminded that there’s more to life to strive for than what that person next to you can give. Then you feel a little down for choosing such a....conformist way to live. Finally, after we parted ways, you left with a slight pout.
That was the end. A slight pout. Before you were looking around with a sincere smile that came from that warmth in your heart. Now you look around with a slight pout.

Wake up, honey. There’s always going to be people who do that.

Don’t let them get to you. I know you’re happy, I know you’re making someone else happy every single day. And I know that when you look at him, you’re happy. That’s something I’m still desperately yearning for, fully aware that right now I have an infinitely small probability to reach that. But as much as I want it, I know there are things I have to do in order to make my life (not necessarily yours) happier. And if doing those things means less chance for me to look for what you two have, then I’ll have to accept it and keep going, because that’s the kind of person I was born to be. Always wanting bigger things.

You realize that most people who want to fly do so because they don’t have a strong ground to stand on.
But you’re not one of them.

Allow me to raise my glass.

For the best week in my life.

Sorry, that's not quite true.

For the first week in my life, as it may had well been the first week of me feeling completely alive.

I don't want to go home!