Love, Advice, korea, healing

How To Get Over Someone Without Getting Under Someone

Dear Reader,

When you’re learning to be alone, you should watch Jerry McGuire and Beauty and The Beast. You should source a steady playlist of empowering songs(Beyonce) intermittent with weep-worthy ballads(Adele).

You should be listened to, really listened to. You don’t need advice or judgment: you just need to be heard. When you’ve let it all out, take time to inquire about others. Derive hope from their bliss, borrow joy from their blessings.

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Sea of Solitude.

You should ask your ex for 30 days of silence: Do not contact me unless I contact you. If you love me, you’ll let me go. It’s good they’re oceans away on nights alone when you return to an empty home. It’s better they started going to the same therapist you had. Take the tiny rainbows.

You should get tested for an STD and be relieved you don’t have one. When your ex says they “only kissed”, you should trust science.

You should make a list of what you want to accomplish this year. Cross out “girlfriend” and replace it with GOALS.

Write them down: silly to serious, ridiculous to realistic, right now to retirement. Mix ’em up with links. Go!

Here and Now

  1. Prepare to apply for a Nat Geo-Fulbright blogging fellow on Elephant Conservation. Must watch wildlife documentaries:  Virunga, The Ivory Game and Tyke.
  2. Buy a beginner’s Canon DSLR camera. Develop photojournalism skills. (Booked Workshop April 9 Woot!)
  3. Learn to surf (Busan Mellow Surf May 5! )
  4. Grow as a teacher (Feel terrible when parents complain you’ve fallen behind with homework. Work your ass off to make it up. Communicate too much homework kills creativity. Feel ecstatic when your bosses decide to lighten the workload)
  5. Repeat “I can handle it” to yourself when the noonsday demon claws against your chest. Louis Hay affirmations. Sleep to this night meditation. Wake up with Jennifer Aniston’s yogi.
  6. Be abstinent for 6 months, exactly ½ the length of your last relationship. Detachment from desire can lead to enlightenment. Sexual liberation is onyx, but true intimacy is gold.
  7. From traveling to picking your nose, learn how to be happy alone.

A Flexible Future

  1. Teach adults in Thailand (need a break from the kiddies)
  2. Volunteer with elephant sanctuaries all over SE Asia
  3. Exploring Master’s Programs: TESOL/Education/Photojournalism. Must be affordable. NYC Teaching Fellows, MIIS, or Europe might be the way to go. Refuse to go into debt. Beware of cash cows.
  4. Teach in The Middle East (Masters required)
  5. Volunteer for Marine Conservation and learn how to dive.
  6. Volunteer at an Ayahuasca retreat center in Ecuador(your friend is the director yaaaaas!)
  7. Visit the Galapagos (your friend teaches there woohoo!)
  8. Invent a vibrator that transforms into a Justin Trudeau body pillow.
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Walk alone. Wonder. Haedong Temple.

Remember: gratitude is the key to happiness.

Dear reader, whomever you are, wherever you are, I am grateful to you. I wish you love. I wish you purpose. I wish you the courage to never stop fighting for good.

To discovering beauty in a cup of tea,

writinginsoysauce

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Advice, korea, Love, Mental Health, Teaching, Womens Health, Writing

I miss you like crazy

Soundtrack: We Move Lightly

Dear reader,

A few days ago I was ready to give up on love. L didn’t get into the Masters program in Korea. His Barack Obama character, fluency in 3 ruling languages, 3.6 GPA, and caramel Gu Jun Pyo good looks, weren’t even worth an interview. He applied to smaller universities to increase his chances, but no dice. Given the sexism I’ve already faced at work(men looooove roomin’ with roaches), let’s address the pink latino in the room: his third world passport. My interview for Korea lasted the amount of time it takes me to eat a snickers bar. But I’m a US citizen with a pulse.

While in NYC, I survived a long distance relationship for 5 years. We both lost loved ones to cancer. We were laughter and light: the only salve to unbearable numbness. Until we weren’t. I changed. I used to want a diamond, now I’m good with a tattoo. I used to want babies, now I prefer passport stamps. I used to drink like a Bostonian, now I don’t need booze to bare all.

First cut is the deepest

The last time L and I held each other was May. If you read the post about my abortion, then you remember my devastation. Our goodbye. I felt his absence most acutely during my first month in Seoul. A meteor shower, in celestial harmony with Quito’s blood red moon, welcomed me to the Han River with 3 of the nicest teachers and their plus 1’s. Not for one instant did they make me feel like a 7th wheel. Instead, we inflated vagina-shaped lawn chairs and cuddled a little black dog named Tux. Feasted on fish tacos. Gawked at bike-size Afghan hounds(the dodo bird of toy breed Korea). Discovered Daiso, the dollar store equivalent where bitch I’m rich. Admired boy piggy-back girl, crutches n all. Matching couple outfits.

I was having a fucking blast, which compounded into resounding sadness upon seeing my super single bed.

L and I couldn’t make any of these memories in the same time-space continuum. Share a coffee. Take a walk. Binge watch LOTR. And let’s talk about sex. Per OTNB memoir: after 3 months of abstinence, you could’ve spit on me and I’d sizzle. Rio Olympian, starved out for the gold. Sure a big mac is a quick fix, but I’d rather wait for the Shake Shack (grand opening in Gangnam July 22!) 

IUD. Not DIY. 

Don’t fret: I’m armed with 3 letters: I.U.D. “Expect 3 mild cramps,”the gyno said. She held up a silver tong the size of timbuktu to pull my uterus out so this tiny piece of plastic could go in. Any tattoo artist will tell you I have a high pain tolerance, but this was intense. I had to take deep birth-video breaths and find my happy place: instinctively L’s face. After a minute or 2, she patted me on the back, “Good job! Some patients faint on the table.”

Ladies, this is not to scare you, but to prepare you. Take ibuprofen before you go. I got the hormonal IUD cuz I prefer no periods whereas the copper one may give you worse ones. Like a pair of shoes, try out different kinds of birth control till you find one that works best. Liletta is good for 3 years and I don’t have to do anything.

Given my gamut with womanly health, one burning question remains: why do we call weakness a pussy? Who came up with this flawed concept? Did they ever have a period/abortion/baby/IUD? If you punched a pussy and a penis, who do you think would be standing first? “You’re such a testicle” makes way more sense if you ask me. Or we should just stop using gender-specific body parts as insulting adjectives altogether.

Taiwan Thanksgiving 

Thank universe L’s back up plan to study Chinese in Taiwan went through. I booked my flight for September stat. I made it a priority to see him. So when he completely forgot to research hotels and call my therapist from Ecuador…I flipped a shit. It didn’t matter that he recognized his mistake immediately and apologized. 

I wish I could tell you I rolled like ghandi. Instead I chose the worst of two evils: fight and flight. Stage 1: mad as hell: “What the fuck? Am I the only one trying here?” Stage 2: weeping willow. “You hurt me. You really hurt me.” Stage 3: lost girl. “We should break up.” 

I didn’t sleep that night.  Perhaps, the debris wasn’t all due to L, though the residual pain created a perfect storm. In my anger, I forgot everything that L had shown me. I lost faith in him and myself.

When L faced failure, I expected some semblance of guilt, jealousy or stress to bleed over. He did the exact opposite. He stayed proud. Excited. He never made me feel like I was leaving him behind. His capacity for forgiveness is something I’m still working on. When I go bananas, he’s got just the right box. (That’s for you TEFL)

It’d be too easy to give into old habits. To cut and run, like a bat out of hell. For many of us, it’s far simpler to give love, than to receive.  Carson McCuller writes: “the value and quality of any love is determined solely by the lover himself. It is for this reason that most of us would rather love than be loved.”

The morning before Boston, L surprised me with his college diary. Bold move buddy. I perused 4 years of the mind of someone who shares great visions and horrible nightmares. Few people understand me on this level: how blessed I am to know one. No matter what, we will make our greatest effort to learn from our love. I can’t think of anything more worthwhile.

In 3 weeks, I’m visiting L for Chuseuk( Korean turkey day). 6 days with bae! He may try again for Korea or I may head to Taiwan later on. Then this chinita will apply to NYC Teaching Fellows. Uhhhh, subsidized Masters of Education for only $8K what?! It’s one of the only affordable on campus programs out there. I refuse to go into debt for higher ed. Plus, I’ve gotta get certified pre-UAE.

Master of None

No relationship exists without fears, worries, doubts. No show on TV explains these WTF moments in modern romance better than Aziz: long term relationships are tough. You can’t just expect a big, roaring fire right away, right? You know, you can’t put the big logs in first. You start with the small stuff. Kindling, all right? Then you add that, *then* you put in the big logs and *then* you have a roaring fire. And that’s a good relationship. But be careful, sometimes kindling is hard to find, you know? Good wood. So, don’t take it for granted.

Folks: tend to your fine pine. For me, that means continuing therapy.  Eating cake and patbingsu. Working out. Teaching kids that ‘different’ is good. Finishing the first draft of my self-help book…tentatively titled The Co Dependent Diaries: A Teacher Tells All. 

Remember: distance makes the heart grow stronger.

To me. To you. To L.

writinginsoysauce

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