Coming to Terms

Big said something when I was breaking up with ex-bae that I’d have random moments when I’d think back to him and it would hurt all over again. I have yet to experience that hurt, but I do feel that guilt over and over again. But that’s not what this is about.

This was a thought during my relationship with ex-bae. I did not tell him, and I don’t have any plans to tell him now. During the relationship, I brushed away these thoughts. I thought I was being dramatic and fabricating emotions and reality. However, now that I’ve had some time away from the relationship and exploring a new dynamic with Apple Pie, I realize a few things didn’t add up.

First, I felt an obligation to engage in sexual conduct. I should never have felt the need to be obligated to do anything. Sexual or otherwise. But I did. I felt the obligation to give my (then) bae what he wanted. (What I thought he wanted.)

Second, I am just as entitled to my own pleasure as he is to his pleasure. Or, I should have been. With my current relationship and how Apple Pie treats me, the contrast is very, very concerning. I feel human now? It’s such a terrible thing to say, but I feel like I am something and someone more than a man’s tool for pleasure. During my past relationship, this type of feeling and thought never occurred. Talking with current work and SW friends who are also sexually active and liberated makes it easier to see how twisted my past relationship was. (They are horrified and angry that ex-bae didn’t make me cum/didn’t give me head.) I didn’t pay any attention to my own pleasure because in my head, it was second to his pleasure. Maybe it was internalized misogyny or my need to please others, but either way, I was mistreated.

Third, I feel comfortable being honest and open about how I feel about sex that day. Also sounds like a weird point, but how twisted is it that I did not feel comfortable telling my (then) bae that I didn’t want to have sex? Very. It wasn’t that I was scared of a physical retribution. I think I was afraid to disappoint. This was such a weird dialectic tension. I didn’t care to date ex-bae long term, but I also didn’t want to break up with him. This mindset lasted until the day we finally said our goodbyes. This honesty with sex is something I realized while dating Apple Pie. I thought I could say ‘no’ to ex-bae. I even tested it out the first time we had sex. But I don’t remember if I tried it again any other time. Maybe I did, but it doesn’t matter because in the end, I had sex plenty of times without actually wanting it. With Apple Pie, it’s so easy to be honest. I know he won’t hold it against me.

Overall, I guess this makes me into another statistic of women who were/are sexually abused/mistreated/raped by their significant other. I don’t like to minimize my story into numbers, but it’s very difficult. All the more, I find that rape culture is suffocating. Even with the #metoo movement and sexual assault/harassment awareness increasing, it is incredibly difficult to talk about your own experiences. The self-minimizing and self-silencing…

Apple Pie has been very supportive and helpful is processing all of this. He has a better grasp than me. Even now, it’s difficult for me to admit my past relationship to be sexually abusive. I keep trying to defend ex-bae with “he didn’t know”, “I didn’t tell him even though I should have”, “if I had told him, it wouldn’t have happened”, and “I don’t deserve to call it abuse bc…”.

Around the Table

Things may be turning around for Apple Pie and my parents, at least my mom. However, I might be a little to hopeful.

Apple Pie came over before he went to his gym class. I mentioned to my mom that I’m meeting up with him, but I also need to get homework done. She already knew what I was going to ask and she said, “got it”. He stayed and when my mom came home, she started to heat up food for dinner/snack. Although Apple Pie did not eat, he sat with my mom, my sister, and me at the dining table. After my sister got up, my mom and I were still eating when conversation started to flow. We talked about Korean food, my mom’s childhood, the Phillipines, and my (bad) personality. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t awkward. (It wasn’t awkward for me). Apple Pie smiled. My mom smiled. I think they’re getting a little more used to each other.

I partially think that my mom felt obligated to make conversation this time because he was sitting with us. I’m not sure if she feels as though I overstepped my boundaries. I didn’t want him to be sitting on the couch by himself while we ate. She didn’t comment on my actions afterwards so I think it was okay, but the next time I saw her was the day after. I wonder if she didn’t say anything about his prescence because he was already inside the house. I’m not sure.

I hope for the best. I will prepare for the worst.

Scars

A couple of days ago was my second time hurting myself. The first time I used the sharp edge of a metal ruler. The second time, a metal clothes hanger.

I was crazy drunk this time around. I couldn’t think straight, and the reason why I had wanted to get drunk was so I could not feel anything. I didn’t want to feel the sadness, loneliness, and the depression. I didn’t want to recognize that I wasn’t able to feel my skin. I had run my fingers along my forearm, and it didn’t process quite correctly. When I was drunk, I thought it was a good idea to hurt myself. I hurt myself in rhythm with songs from musicals. I dug in so much this time that not only did I break skin, but small, thin scabs formed.

Afterwards, I went about my daily routine. Other than the first initial day (because I had dinner with Apple Pie and a childhood friend), I wore short sleeves constantly. I didn’t bother to wear longer pants. This wasn’t because I wanted my wounds to be shown; it was because it’s summer.

Almost five days has passed, and no one has said anything.

I’m not surprised no one from work commented because it’s so fast pace and busy. No one has time to look at scars. I think a few guests might have noticed but choose to remaim silent or give me the benefit of the doubt. However, I haven’t heard anything from my family, namely my mom and sister. I can’t tell if it’s because they’re wrapped up in their own business or if they aren’t able to mention my scars. Maybe they’re giving me the benefit of the doubt.

I thought maybe I’m wearing clothes that don’t cover up just so I can be comfortable, but given how I feel right now…maybe I wanted someone to notice.

The Catch

Apple Pie: Do you love me? 

Me: Yes, I do. 

(However, I don’t love myself. Will you ever know this?) 

Roots, not Flowers

You fell in love with my flowers and not my roots so when autumn came you didn’t know what to do

More and more I realize that this holds true for many relationships as well as my past one. However, Apple Pie is proving that he is making the conscious decision to love me and love and understand my roots.

Recently, I had a breakdown. I’m not sure what it was/is, but it’s been persistent for over a year now. I think it’s scary to admit that it’s been going on for so long. It’s strange to see it written as ‘over a year’. And even more concerning when I admit it happens at least once a month.

I fight off suicidal ideations and self-harm ideations.

I have to self-talk myself down and make sure I don’t harm myself. It’s something I never talked to ex-bae. I don’t remember confiding in him a lot, especially in depth. I do remember telling him not to worry since it happens every month.

It’s a difficult situation to explain. It’s all the more frustrating because of my self-destructive behavior and slight anxiety. I push away the people who care and could help.

This past weekend was the most difficult, by far. I don’t even really recall what got me in such a terrible mood. I just remember wanting to cut myself. I remember wanting to hurt myself so badly. I felt numb to my body. The sensation of my finger running across my forearm was too strange, I felt the need to inflict pain. I guess an out of body experience? I started to tell Apple Pie how I was feeling off but told him I’d sleep it off. He called me immediately. After trying to explain myself, I sobbed when he asked if he could do anything.

All that came to my mind was, “You can’t cause it’s all in my head”.

Apple Pie kept asking if I wanted him to come over, and although I really did want him to, I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave the house. At least without telling my parents that I felt terrible and needed him. (But that would mean revealing this side of me that they never knew and probably won’t be able to understand.) So he and I met up the morning after.

I asked him over the phone if he would be sad if I was gone. He replied, “I’d be sad and I’d miss you”. I started to cry again. I realized that sadness is not the only emotion of grief, but there is also longing.

Autumn comes for me every month. And Apple Pie may not know how to help, but he stays with me. It helps me to understand that he’s staying for more than the pretty flowers.

Apple Pie Update

We plan on getting married. Sometime in the future.

I don’t remember the timeline of what happened when, but I met his parents. I slept over at his house once when his parents were out of town. I had dinner at their house with both his parents and his family. He met my sister. We talked about getting married. He was unsure. I had another pregnancy scare, but this time with Apple Pie. It was then he came to the conclusion that ‘yes, he wants to marry me’. We talked about baby names, and he pinky promised me that we can get at least one dog. The semester is almost over, and he’s graduating in two weeks. I’m getting started on my senior practicum.

The world keeps revolving too fast.

We spent the night together last night. I’m finally 21, and he and his chorale friends wanted to drink in their dorm. It was really enjoyable. It’s surreal that things will be so different. There is no ‘college life’ for Apple Pie anymore. I’ll be a senior next year, focused on my clients and graduation. We’re both (and all) taking another step in our professional careers. Yet, we still have a long way to go in our relationship.

He still has not officially met my parents. I don’t think he will for another year or so. I don’t think my parents want to think it’s anything serious. He and my brother haven’t met officially either. Apple Pie’s mom recently said she can see us getting married. I think that’s a good sign. I feel as though everything needs to be in place ASAP, but then I see stories of couples who have been together for YEARS before getting married. Time is but a constructed concept. It’s only a number. I need to remind myself to take it slowly. Apple Pie isn’t going anywhere, God permitting. And I don’t plan on going anywhere either.

 

Hazy Future

A month after ex-bae and I broke up, I started a new relationship with KS (who shall be known as “apple pie” from now). I talked about him briefly in my February post. He’s the one who complimented me randomly.

I love him.

It’s strange how strongly I feel for him. I didn’t feel this way towards ex-bae. I loved ex-bae. He was someone special to me, and I wanted him to be someone greater in my life. That never happened. With ex-bae, I grew to love him, and it was my full choice to stay with him (even throughout the discontentment). However, with my apple pie, the love I feel is sweeping me off my feet. It has me tossed around, and I cannot seem to get a grasp on reality. It’s the type of love that I can’t seem to contain in my smile. It’s also the type of love I cannot trust and am afraid of. It scares me to know that I cannot think normally because of the amount of passion and adoration I feel towards my partner.

Love is blinding. And it has blinded me.

We are reaching our three months. The average honeymoon phase. He’s currently in the Philippines on vacation with family. I miss him dearly. He respects me. He understands his position as a man in this patriarchal society and does well to make sure I am empowered. He makes sure that I know how loved I am. We communicate well. He thinks with me. He doesn’t shy away from difficult conversations. I can’t stop complimenting him. My Big and my high school friend (Nurse) both believe it’s because it’s so early on in the relationship. I agree. Right now, everything seems perfect. I should also add that Big and Nurse both agree that I seem happier now. It is all good. And then I start to think about the future. Nurse says it’s such a NoVA thing to do to think about “the next step”, but I can’t stop worrying.

He and I talked about it briefly today. The future. Marriage.

(My friend from elementary school got engaged yesterday.)

I am serious about dating Apple Pie. With ex-bae, I wanted to see how things went. “Why not?” is what I thought. With Apple Pie, it’s more deliberate. I want to be his partner. I want to be in this relationship with him. I want to love him. I can see myself settling down with him. I can see myself living with him, starting a family with him.

This morning I let him know that my mom will ask why I am dating someone if I don’t have plans to marry them. Apple Pie asked if I was planning on getting married to him. I panicked. This was a topic that I didn’t want mentioned for a while. It was a topic that I wanted to tuck away and ignore. Like Nurse advised, I wanted to enjoy the now. But it was pulled out and placed on the table. I told him it’s a topic for another day. I did let him know I am dating him seriously, unlike with ex-bae. We hung up before I asked about his point of view, and now, I regret it.

A thought occurred. What if he is unable to see himself married to me? He loves me, but he does not want to marry me. I don’t think I would be able to handle that. If our conversation heads in that direction, I don’t think I will be able to continue this relationship. Like I told Apple Pie, because I am so happy, he can hurt me greater. I can fall from a higher place of happiness. He arrives in the US on New Year’s Day. Hopefully, we are able to talk soon. Even if it’s just a brief talk about what our relationship expectations are.

Clear Realization

I’ve been dating a sexist homophobic child for the past 13 months.

Ex-Bae called me on skype drunk. He has stolen “sips” of vodka from his roommate. He called devastated, as I initially thought he’d be a week before. He still could not see the reason for the breakup and had come up with so many reasons that made sense to his small brain. The fact that I never loved him. The fact that he didn’t make me happy. It was all so self-centered and an overall pity party. I wanted him to understand so I agreed to meet with him the next day, especially since he was adamant I list all the reasons we broke up. I tried to explain, but he was too drunk for me to try. After we hung up, he texted me saying how he’s a good actor, how he wasn’t drunk, and how he was manipulating me to seeing him.

I don’t know what he wanted my response to be. Pity? Guilt? A sense of longing to go back and make him feel better again? I don’t know, and I don’t care to know. He was being an ass. He fucked up. So for the first time, I went off on him. I told him to not talk to me until he was ready to be an adult and to have a great fucking life. I will no longer let him ruin my life.

Today, I keep thinking back to things he said to me that didn’t feel quite right. One of the things he told me on the trip to New York was how strange it was that he could finally call me sexy after we broke up. He felt as though he couldn’t in the relationship. I fucking told him that ‘no, I don’t want to be cute. I want to be a bad ass mother fucker’. Nope. He still called me cute. I realize about three weeks later why this bothers me.

I had a clear realization. It was because he was inherently sexist. Now, this is a little difficult so I’ll try to explain my thought process. A person has to learn morals. It is ingrained in people. Accepting new morals is hard, especially if it contradicts your previous held morals. There are many cases that people fake morals. I did that a lot. With the pressure of a more democratic area and friend group, it’s hard to indicate that you’re more traditional, especially when it comes to rights.

I don’t truly believe ex-bae knew what he was talking about. He recited the typical answers and acted like he agreed with my outrage of men’s behavior. However, his way of consoling me echoed those of men who really, really did not get it. I was wolf-whistled at on my way to my car after the gym. I was furious. I vented to ex-bae, and the cliche line parted from his lips: “You should just take it as a compliment.” LOL BABE. I AM SPECIFICALLY TELLING YOU I FELT DISGUSTED. WHY WOULD I WANT TO TAKE IT AS A COMPLIMENT?  This is a strong example of how he wasn’t an ally to me or other women. The fact that this line was appropriate for him to say to HIS GIRLFRIEND WHO FELT VIOLATED shows his immaturity and sexism.

Going back to what he told me on the trip up to NYC, I realized why he probably didn’t feel comfortable sexualizing me in our relationship. He thought it was wrong because so many feminists have said stop sexualizing women. In his mind, he thought calling me sexy would equate him to dehumanizing me and making me into a sex object. Oh, how wrong he is. If anything, it’s the mindset. You can call someone sexy without objectifying them. You can objectify someone without saying anything. He was tip-toeing compliments because he didn’t want to objectify me. Wow. So now that there is no emotional attachment and need to appease my feminist side, he can call me sexy. Now that I’m not his girlfriend, he can call me sexy.

What a stupid sexist fuckboi.

(I won’t even go into the fact that recently he bragged about how he could get any girl he wants. Okay, sure. While you’re drinking your problems away, I’ve moved on. 100%. I even have a boyfriend. Also won’t go into his homophobic tendencies. Let’s just say homosexuality is fine as long as it doesn’t affect him personally. Eye roll.)

The Break Up

It is currently 3:18AM. I had a spell of anxiety today so I haven’t really been able to sleep. More like, I don’t want to since I feel like that’s all I’ve been doing these days. Sleep. Sleep. And not sleeping.

The bae and I broke up officially on 9/18, close to our 13 months (not that it matters). However, due to a New York trip that following Saturday, we were still talking, cuddling, kissing, and on Saturday, after the trip, we had our ‘break up sex’. Why am I not surprised? I said I wouldn’t have the typical ‘break up sex’, but we did.

If you asked me how I was a week ago, I would have said a mess. I was trying to cope with the fact that a huge part of my life was gone. Do I still love him? No. Do I want to get back with him? No. Is there a future with him? Maybe, most likely not. Do I miss him? Hell, yeah.

The problem was basic; we did not match. However, I don’t know if bae understands that, even now. But the thing is, it’s only been a little over two weeks. I don’t expect him to be okay, but he acts as though he is. He messages me as though we’re the best of friends again. I don’t mind that. I really do want to be his friend, since we were friends before, and he needs friends that will challenge him. Then he started to talk to me about the break up. Nope. That’s not okay. I might be moving on, but I cannot handle knowing how he’s taking the break up. He was getting angry with me so I stopped him and explained. I put space between the two of us the second time. The first time was his decision.

I feel guilty. I always feel guilty. The anxiety spell today was partially due to him. He told me he had taken a shot and was planning on getting high next week. I worry. I always worry. He really did not like to drink with me; he refused. He didn’t even consider smoking. I feel as though it’s all my fault. I’m the one who is influencing bae to mess up his own life, but I need to learn that that’s not true. Bae makes his own decisions and is responsible for himself.

Throughout this break up I learned that I really need to put my happiness first. I need to take care of myself before even thinking about helping others. I am allowed to be happy. I need to stop caring so much what other’s think. My friends are all telling me the same thing: people will think and say what they want. Just as I have opinions, others are entitled to their own. But I care. I worry. I need to fight for my own happiness and joy.

I need to love myself more.

O Sir, Be Kind

O sir, be kind
Be kind to yourself
Be kind to others
Be kind to me
Be kind to my heart

Because my heart is tender
Tender from the rough hands that tugged at it
Tugged at it wondering what other tricks it can learn
But a heart can do but one thing
That is Love

Love until it has bled everything
Love until life is given back to dead hearts
But this heart cannot live without love either

So please kind, kind sir
Show this heart some kindness, and pity it

Do not be stern
Do not enforce yourself
Love

What those rough hands also did not know were that hearts…

Hearts are timid
Hearts hide behind scars and callouses from the rough hands that pulled, scratched, and even tore
Hearts hide behind laughter and joy
Hearts are all of these
But more importantly, a heart is a soul

A soul of a person
Please, sir
Be kind
For many hands have been rough and unknowing

Curious hands make for lacking love
And lacking love kills a heart

Sir, the sad thing is, souls only have one heart

Souls were only created with one heart although it is the most important
Strangely, the more important things are, the less of them there isOr perhaps, because there is only one, it is important

So kind sir, please be gentle with the single hearts
Hearts are not build with bone but flesh
And kind sir, flesh is soft

The rough hands to toss this heart were careless, but kind sir, please be careful
I give my heart to you

But be kind
Be kind, good sir

Or you will be the rough hands to the next kind sir