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By Rachel Tran
I’ve started, erased, then restarted this story maybe 5 times.
Whenever I get anywhere with it, though, my mind shuts off and I completely disregard myself and the feelings that are entangled in my words.
I tell myself that it’s not worth writing about and that it’s just another stupid excuse to highlight my entitlement, in a way.
I make it known to myself that whatever I want to write about isn’t worth the mental toll it could take on me, so I scrap the entire piece to start over.
But I will try again. Just one more time.
Maybe this time, I can finish without a hitch. Maybe this time, I won’t lie to myself and make a happy ending out of it all.
I try to stay surface level in any given situation because I’m scared that people will see me as vulnerable; as weak.
And I hate that.
I hate being associated with the word “weak.”
I hate being seen as weak.
I hate being weak.
I hate not being able to lift a box that’s over my body weight without dislocating my shoulder in the process, and I hate having to go to physical therapy to recover from it.
I hate being the slowest runner on the soccer team because it means I’m not as strong as everyone else.
I hate getting beat by everyone else who does better than me in academic situations because it means that I’m not as smart.
I hate rejection because it means there were stronger candidates than me.
I hate how other people’s actions can change the trajectory of my mood.
I hate how I let them get to me.
I hate feeling.
‘Feeling’ means that eventually, I’ll have to experience all the emotions in the world: happiness, joy, excitement, anger, sadness, heartbreak.
The latter 3, to me, are signs of weakness.
As much as I’m disappointed in myself for it, I used to judge people who would cry out of anger. I used to judge people who would lash out at others if something upset them.
I used to look down on people like myself.
I restrict myself from feeling the emotions that have been bubbling over for over 3 years because I’m too prideful to show anyone that I’m not okay.
Mom: “Mà cái đó là, cái đó là cái tánh của mình nó đã như vậy rồi. Là, giống như là những cái bực bội gì mà ở trông lòng của mình, mình không có xã ra cho người ngoài được. Mình, giống như mình đem về nhà rồi mình trúc cái bực bội đó lên đồ vật. Mà người ta gọi đó là cái tánh của mình nó là như vậy rồi, với lại cái mặt của mình nó là như vậy rồi. Mình không có muốn cho người ta thấy…nói chung là mình không muốn người ta thấy cái mặt xấu của mình. Mình chỉ muốn người ta nhìn vô cái mặt tốt của mình thôi.”
“Basically, it’s…it’s simply your personality. Whatever it is that bothers you and how you feel inside, you don’t really show it to the world. Instead, you bring it home and let it out more on objective things. It’s basically your personality, it’s just how you are. We don’t want people to…we don’t want people to see the “uglier” side of ourselves, only the idealistic, ‘perfect’ side.”
Now, though, I think it’s time to finally accept the fact that maybe I am weak.
That maybe, just maybe, it’s natural to feel defeated once in a while.
Maybe the time my best friend of 4 years left me high and dry for his girlfriend impacted me more than it actually did.
Maybe when his calls started to get sparse, I took it personally.
And maybe when he cancelled on the one day a year that we leave open for each other to be with his new girlfriend, I should have cried instead of bottling it in and overexerting myself at the gym.
Photo Credit: Rachel Tran
The physical distance between us after my move to San Jose built no barrier to our friendship: going to Santa Clara from San Jose is only a mere 20 minute drive. We were still the best of friends and talked to each other about everything in life: from our days to how we think the world is just a simulation, we never not shared everything with one another.
Now, I don’t blame his newfound lover, but the constant texts and interrupted phone calls created a tension that I never thought could exist between us.
His texts started to become sporadic and the call-times shrunk tenfold, yet I never bothered to make the effort because I didn’t want to step on anyone’s toes.
Maybe that’s another weakness of mine; letting people go easily just so it wouldn’t burden them.
But I slowly let him go.
Losing someone after building a relationship with them over such a long period of time can pack a punch.
As close as we were, if he was able to forget about everything we had together so quickly, it makes me question. Was it him? Or was it my fault?
Jenny: “I remember you texted me about him and the whole situation with him, and you were denying that there was anything wrong but I knew that there was something wrong. After you told me what was wrong, you told me that you were going forget about it and eventually be okay. And, I believed you.”
Maybe the time that the one person who was like a sister to me disregarded my feelings and, again, left me for someone else, made me feel shittier than I actually made known.
Maybe running back to her when she realized that there was no hope in that relationship wasn’t the best idea.
Maybe reconnecting with her and giving her a second chance wasted more of my time than it did heal me. Because in the end, she left again.
It hurt me more than I let it be known and instead, I suffered in silence. I let her walk all over me because I didn’t want to be known as someone “too emotional,” and blow up on her, even though she was one of the only souls who knew that it was my tendency to do so.
I made myself think and think and think some more about what I did wrong and what I could have done differently to make her stay; so that she would have chosen me over her newfound group of friends.
It made me insecure, I realize now.
Maybe I was just being naive.
Natalie: We both share a common idea of people in a sense that they always have good intentions. We tend to believe in the good in people and we sometimes ignore the bad. I don’t know if we think it’s because they’ll change or if we’re just hoping they change.
Maybe I’m a hypocrite.
Maybe when I give others advice, I should give it to them with a grain of salt.
Maybe I should allow myself to feel after telling everyone else that it’s okay to be sad. That it’s okay to be heartbroken after being lied to and that I should be upset after being stood up.
Maybe I never listen to my own advice.
Maybe I am the sole definition of the word.
Jenny: “You always tell me to stand up for myself and not care about what anyone else thinks and, like, I really do appreciate that and everything, and I really do try to do that. But, you don’t do it yourself, you don’t take your own advice when you give me advice, and honestly, that’s what I do too. But, I feel like you should take your own advice because I don’t want people to push you over, basically.”
Maybe I’m insecure.
Maybe I care too much about how other people feel and how they perceive me.
It makes me overthink everything; from the way I speak to others - adjusting my tone of voice just right so there won’t be any misunderstandings - to the way I let others make decisions - letting everyone else choose what we do instead of putting in my own 2 cents, no matter the situation.
I yearned for others to recognize that I was put together.
I had a large group of friends, did volunteer work, and played sports in hopes I would live up to everyone's expectations
Natalie: “We just value other people's happiness to the point where it clouds ours. Being able to make people happy gives us a different sense of happiness.”
Photo Credit: Rachel Tran
Maybe I am afraid of failure.
Maybe not getting into my top 3 schools broke me into a million different pieces and I still told everyone that I was okay.
Maybe having to face the people who got into the schools and programs I yearned for caused a fiery pit of jealousy in my stomach that nobody should ever feel.
Ever since college decisions rolled out, I’ve been on the edge. I’ve been on the of my seat, waiting for the news that could determine the next 4 to 6 years of my life, and every time I opened another God forsaken decision letter, I let myself down.
The feeling of not being good enough, especially when it comes to schools that judge you based on your successes and achievements, caused me to beat myself up and made me question my worth.
But maybe now is the time that I let myself dwell in that failure; the time I finally allow my emotions to get the best of me for once and be weak.
Maybe that’s my biggest weakness: rarely being able to admit that I’m not okay and that things affect me more than I let it be known.
Mom: “Mẹ..nói thất vộng thì mẹ không có thất vộng. Mẹ chỉ buốn cho con. Là tại gì mấy cái trường đó không có nhận con được. Chứ thất vộng thì mẹ không có thất vộng. Tại gì đó, mẹ nghỉ là học ở đâu cũng học. Học xa cũng học, mà học gần cũng học. Miển sao cái sức học của mình đũ khả năng để mình handle nổi lớp học đó thôi. Chứ con đó, con ở đâu cũng được hết. Con học gần nhà mẹ rất là vui.”
“I’m…I’m not necessarily disappointed. I think I just feel really bad because you didn’t get into the schools that you wanted. I’m not disappointed, like at all. I think that wherever you go, it’s school. A school far away (prestigious) is still a school, and a school closer to home is still a school. As long as you’re putting in your effort and not letting it go to waste, and you can handle the classes you take, it’s all that matters. I don’t care what university you go too. But, the fact that you’re going to school closer to home makes me happy.”
I’ve done so much to busy and distract myself; to defer my mind from the thoughts of failure and the emotions that run through my head that it got to the point where I myself believed that I was okay.
But now, as I sit and dwell about everything that’s led to me this moment, I’m allowing myself to think about it. I’m letting myself reconsider the choices I made and how, instead of making me stronger, only weakened my mentality.
How throwing everything away into the small dumpster inside my brain to the point where it overflows with memories and feelings I tried to discard created a weakness I never knew existed.
I am still learning to accept the fact that these emotions are natural and that showing signs of “weakness” is something that any and all human beings express; that vulnerability is something that I need to live with.
While my character in this self-produced rendition of "Perfect Fantasy World," was putting on a show, the actress playing that role was falling deeper down a rabbit hole of people-pleasing madness. But living in this facade became unbearable, and eventually, like most actors, I broke character.
And as I figure out how to live with the reality of the actor and her life instead of the stronger character that she plays, I bring along an old Vietnamese proverb taught to me by my grandmother years ago.
Không vào hang cọp sao bắt được cọp con?
If you don’t enter the lion’s den, how can you catch its cub?
If you don’t take the risk, how can you get the reward?
Music Credits
Life is Still Going On (music box version)
elzish two
rm - tokyo - lofi ver.
smyang piano
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