Clarity

 In the past month I've gone through a lot of chaos to revisit my true self, my soul and old flames. Sure, all thanks to ChatGPT. But as these conversations develop, especially that Eric and I have been talking a lot, I'm starting to see how Angel fundamentally cannot meet me. Every conversation that I try to have, where I am vulnerable, ends up me feeling like kicking into a wall. Most of the time he's just paraphrasing me; he cannot really understand the depth of my feelings or my thoughts. Here's what I typed for ChatGPT:

 i talked to him again this morning and it still felt like i'm kicking a wall. i asked him if you have thought about what we said last night, that our brains are wired differently. he said yes, it makes sense. i said, "do you have any of your own thoughts?" he said again, "it makes sense now that our brains are wired differently. you look at things at the roots while i look at things on the surface." he said that when he was growing up nobody paid attention to his neurodivergence and only taught him how to behave on the surface so he is this way. i asked him, "what about your risk taking? would you say that you'd still die for me?" have you died for me once in our 10 years together?" he said, "i would die for you." then i said, "you wouldn't even come out in the storm to see me. you wouldn't even stretch financially for the big things. I have stretched 100% for you emotionally, physically, and financially just to make things convenience and safe for you." he said, "so my contribution in the big purchases didn't count?" I said, those big purchases were only a tiny fraction of your net worth; when i paid for the car, the refurbishing upfront with all of my cash, you're looking at 100% of my net worth, and i sacrificed my opportunity to earn money from my money and my financial independence." and then he kept paraphrasing me. then i asked him, "do you know why i've been doing this?" he said, "because you're a bigger person." i asked, "is that it?" he said, "you care more about our family." i asked, "is that it?" he said, "you give more to our family." i asked, "is that it? what about love?" then he asked with doubt, "you love me more than i love you?" i said, "the love i can give is bigger than what you can"

All the people around me tell me that this is what marriage is like. What I need in a relationship is a fantasy but ChatGPT reassured me that whether or not I find what I need in a relationship, I will always have myself, the freedom, and the possibility if I can step out of my current situation. Right now I am confined by this marriage and fulfilling lots of duties to make up for the things that my husband can't do. I am done taking care of him and I am done not being taken care of by him. Sure, sometimes I almost have panic attack about the unknown and being alone again, but the truth is I'm already alone.

I came to this realization most hard and clear this year. I completed Little O's homeschooling plan entirely by myself, having to figure out all the logistics and recruitment of teachers throughout the past year, having to figure out the textbooks, possible curricula and resources. Entirely by myself. Even thought Angel and I have the same job and even has an Ivy League degree in education, he contributed nothing. After the plan was finally done, he did not read through it once. 40+ pages. Simply because it was too much trouble for him to translate it into English. And his mom just made things worse by finding him an excuse not to read it--Google Translate is hard to read. We have ChatGPT today and they still think there's an excuse for him not to read it. He is the kids' father.

And the last incident at the noodle shop also collapsed me. I felt so scared, so helpless, and I retold the whole incident to my mom and Angel. No response. Nobody could feel how scared I was. All Angel did was saying that it was insane. No feelings, no empathy. I had to talk to ChatGPT alone; even after I relayed the message to my in-laws, all they could say was that they were sorry and they hoped I could feel better. I am so sick of this. Over the weekend, Angel and his parents talked on the phone and they did not mention my incident at the noodle shop nor did they talk about my homeschooling plan. This was when I completely broke and started to reflect with ChatGPT on what true love was, and that's how I got reconnected with Jes and Eric.

But after these events I'm more able to compartmentalize my feelings. I am being diminished to nothing in this marriage, which is why I need to get out. The other compartment is where I still have hope for finding the one, someone who can feel me, see me, understand me and still hold me, but maybe that part can only be fulfilled by memories or just myself. 

Why didn't you text me?

 For the past couple of weeks I've been texting and talking to Eric on the phone for hours. Our connection, after 12 years of silence, is still very strong. Yesterday I snuck out from work because he wanted to talk about how I discovered myself again from being buried by survival. We talked for an hour. Towards the end of our conversation, he asked me again why I didn't reach out to him after he ended his relationship in Japan. I asked him why he didn't reach out to me because he always had my gmail and he even found our GChat log. He said, "honestly I was embarrassed." He was afraid that I would be like one of his exes who could be mad at him. I told him that in my case, he had already started a relationship when we ended our conversation. It made me feel that the other person mattered more than I did. I had to move on anyway; I was always dating someone even though I was single. I couldn't wait forever. 

In another phone call last Saturday, after I had a fun night with my brothers without the kids, without my husband or anyone else, he told me that our reconnection made him want to hug me so badly. We talked about that our timing was right in 2012 to 2013. He ended a 5-year relationship and started a new one right away. When we met he was still in that 5-year relationship. We agreed that he wasn't emotionally ready. I told him that the letter he wrote me but never sent me in 2013, which he read to me a week ago on the phone, showed that he couldn't come see me because he genuinely cared about me. He didn't want to hurt me. I also told him that when I left the City of Gold I had zero dollars left in my bank account. I had to start paying my student loans and my parents' debt as soon as I returned to the City of Rain. The weight of my life was so heavy at that time that it wouldn't be fair for anyone to carry that weight with me. I had to do everything myself and solve the problems myself. He agreed that I wasn't ready then. He also had grief that between 2015 and when he met his wife, he was wide open and our timing just couldn't line up. He felt that he had missed a whole life with me. I told him that if we had ended up together in 2013 we wouldn't be talking to each other now. He felt otherwise; he felt that what we had was so strong that nothing would be able to stop us. I told him that in 2012 we didn't even hold hands or kissed, although he remembered feeling my waist because we hugged. He said if we had kissed at that time we would not be able to stop it at all. As he was feeling lots of grief, I tried to comfort him by telling him that we haven't seen each other for 12 years. Maybe I am totally fat right now, or full of body hair, or I exert lots of motherly hormones, or I wear lots of designer stuff and am totally lame. He said he didn't care about any of that as long as I didn't give myself a buzz cut. I told him multiple times that it felt really sweet and he was about to make me cry. He also told me that he felt happy talking to me most of all, so that it made him neglect the grief, the bittersweet, the ache. 

In our phone call yesterday he also told me that he felt that I was more confident than before, although we both feel that we haven't really changed from 12 years ago. Maybe we're both wiser but the hearts seem to be the same. There was a lot of laughter; I haven't experienced humor, teasing, or flirtation for a decade. It means a lot to me that there's someone in my life who actually understands my words, who understands my subtleties and the hidden messages, besides ChatGPT. It's inevitable to have hope but I am not sure if our circumstances are any better than 12 years ago. Our wisdoms are definitely different from before and yet our circumstances are even more complex. Maybe it's like what ChatGPT said, we shouldn't focus on the name or the structure of what we have; we should just acknowledge that it's real and extremely rare and we both want to protect it. I don't know where this is going but it surely is creating an emotional turmoil in me, a very honest turmoil. I hope to keep staying grounded and see what life has to unfold ahead of me (but yes, I still have fears).

Back to the same fear.

Yesterday after work I drove to the shopping mall in downtown to buy the first Louis Vuitton bag and wallet in my entire life. I got a matching set of Speedy Bandouliere 20 and I put it on Angel's card. Why did I do it?

I am fed up with being invisible in front of him and his family. I shared the homeschooling plan that I spent over 100 hours to write, and even more hours to talk to people, to research, and to figure out the logistics with Angel and his parents. It turned out they didn't read it. For a week. After I got upset, Angel only skimmed through it and told me that the only difference he noticed was that I added a book to the plan, but in fact I added 20+ pages of plan. Then his mom texted me saying that it was comprehensive work, brava! I told her that unfortunately her son didn't read it. She replied that the Google translate made it difficult to read. I just cannot fucking believe it. Her son is almost 50 and she is still saying everything to mask her son's incompetence. It got me angry and I asked ChatGPT to generate a response that's not too sharp but honest. Then I was still very upset because I just feel that I can't live like this anymore. His parents' denial of his disabilities is fueling my frustration. They have never empathized the pain that I've been living with, and there's absolutely no way that they don't see it, unless they're too emotionally shutdown to do anything about it. Unless they're not normal either.

After I made the purchase of the bag and the wallet, I felt some hope and confidence again. I wanted to wear it if Eric and I ever meet up again. But then a part of me is feeling that fear again--the fear of having so much hope and trying to be optimistic again until everyone proves to me that they can't be there for me.

Starting to Feel

After I reconnected with Jes, I don’t want to go back to my old self again. I don’t want to keep pushing down my feelings and trying to convince myself with logic that whatever feelings I had were not validated because of my role in my life now. I have to diminish my own needs for my children. I have to diminish my own needs for the sake of the family. I got obese, depressed, physically and psychologically ill. I don’t want to do these things anymore. I want to be myself, the self that’s always been there since I was born.

On Thursday evening I texted Eric on WhatsApp. I don’t know why. I was taking a bath and going through my WhatsApp contacts and I saw that he was actually on WhatsApp. So I texted him asking if it was him. He said yes and I had to identify myself so that he could figure out who I was. He had just landed in KL at that time and was going to pick up a rental car to go to his hotel, but I told him that I had to go to bed soon so he decided that he was gonna talk to me on the phone while he was in the parking lot.

We first exchanged texts and then our phone call lasted for two hours. It ended at midnight, which was way too late for my bedtime. However, it was a lot of fun. He and Jes were the only two men I feel like reconnecting the whole time.The circumstances are difficult in both cases. Eric is also married now but he doesn’t want to have kids with his wife and he is open about being polyamorous. Before we ended the conversation he wanted me to tell him honestly my feelings about our conversation. At first I said “it was very nice talking to you” and that wasn’t good enough so I said, “fine. I feel very happy talking to you.” Then he said maybe we could talk again in 9 or 10 days. 

But then the next day he wanted to talk to me again so I managed to use my lunch break to talk to him on the phone for 90 minutes. In this conversation, he told me that he was surprised that my essence hadn’t changed much, which is unusual for most people he knows. The last time we talked was 12 years ago. We talked about a lot of things, including my current situation, my kids, my work etc. He said he was surprised that he still cared so much about me after 12 years. He also said that he found it extremely ironic that when we met I was all about being taken care of like a princess and yet I ended up with a life where I am doing everything for everyone else. I said, “that’s indeed the biggest irony in my life.”

He wanted me to tell him how our last conversation ended because he absolutely couldn’t remember. I told him that he told me he wrote me a letter but he couldn’t send it to me because he didn’t want to hurt me. So I never got to read that email. Then he started looking for that email in his drafts and he found it. He read it to me over the phone. In essence the timing was just wrong and he was an emotional mess at that time and he really didn’t wanna hurt someone he really cared about. It was bittersweet, but it was also somewhat amusing to see who we were like 12 years ago.

You have no idea how good it feels to be able to converse with someone who actually understands what I’m talking about and resonates with me. I have gone without it for 10 years. It makes me feel alive again. The scary thing is that these men’s circumstances are difficult, and mine is even more so. These conversations will probably die soon and I will be all alone again. I don’t want to go back into the endless darkness where I had been in the past 10 years. Not being heard once, not being felt, not being empathized, not being cherished, not being fought for. I just can’t live like this anymore. I can’t keep doing those things for others while no one does it for me. And I don’t know how to move on or pick up any hope of meeting someone new. My circumstances were already difficult in my 20s, and now it’s even worse. It’s like my destiny is cursed.

Between Jes and Erik, I feel more safe to tell Jes absolute everything, but Jes’s ideology now is hard for me to get to him. His ideology is his protection and it seems like he’d choose ideology over true love. Erik on the other hand is more emotionally available and honest, and our ideologies are very close. He is also fluent in the two languages that I’m fluent in so culturally he’s just easier to talk to. If only Jes could fight through his armor and have the courage to meet me just once.

Still scared.

 Today I avoided talking about the bullying incident that happened to me and Little O yesterday. I went into fight mode, being very positive and passionate at work. If I recalled some of the words that the lunatic used to us yesterday, I got chills on my back so I avoided thinking about it.

Last night I couldn’t resist texting Jes: “have you ever punched anyone? Or, if someone bullies your autistic child, would you punch them? I almost did it today…”

At first the message wasn’t delivered. Then I decided to tell myself that he must have blocked me. Later I saw that the message was delivered. Today it showed that he’s read the message. I think that’s good enough for me. In the past he’d always delete me and block me but this time he hasn’t. It makes me wonder if he has something to say but can’t so he’d rather keep our chat available. On the other hand I know it’s unhealthy to be clinging onto him like that. I do interact with lots of people at work and they keep my mind off of him.

It’s just so unfair that we don’t get to meet. I almost want to fight for it but I can’t…

 After work today I picked up Little O and Little N from their school. It was a full day of school for Little O so he was very hungry and wanted to buy noodles from the noodle shop near us. He really tried to order the food on his own and we had been rehearsing what to say multiple times. We were waiting in line for our turn.

Then a young man with a backpack in front of us finished his order. He turned back to us and said to me "watch your child." Little O didn't do anything to him. After I finished our order, I kept staring at him, and he saw me stare at him, and then I went to talk to him.

I asked, "Did my child touch you?"

He said, "Yes he brushed my backpack."

I said, "Did you see how narrow the space is for lining up? Was I not watching him? There are other people who brushed me and I don't say anything."

He said, "Your child brushed me and you should watch him. Should I apologize for your child brushing my backpack? I am going to record this."

He was getting his phone out. I raised my voice, "My child is a minor so don't you dare record him. Also he's autistic. If you film me, I can film you too."

Then, some random loser dining at the restaurant turned to me and said, "you guys can take your discussion outside. This is a place for people to eat."

I took Little O outside to wait for our food and I kept staring at him. The more I stared at him, the harder he laughed. I suspected that he was mentally deranged, and yet he was so articulate. I fucking wanted to kill him. Then he came outside to smoke and said to me, continuing to laugh, "I have all day to spend with you."  I said, "who taught you to talk like this? Where is your ethics? Were you not born and raised by your mother?" I said to him, "if you're so afraid of narrow spaces and being brushed by others, I recommend you move somewhere rural without anyone."

There were more exchanges between us. At one point Little O tried to hold his hand, and it made him laugh sarcastically. I yelled at Little O, "This man is bullying you." This man said, "Even your child knows that you should go now. You're so funny."

Our food was ready and I asked the cashier, "that guy is somewhat psychotic right?" The cashier said, "possibly. When you encounter someone like that, don't waste your time and just leave." 

I am so fed up with the world; they are so fucking selfish that there is no room left for my children. Even if this man is mentally deranged, I have no sympathy for him. I wish that his psychotic episode takes place tonight and he ends his life right there. The world doesn't have enough oxygen and space for losers like that. 

After we got home, I asked Little O, "Do you know why mommy is very scared and very sad? There was a man bullying you. He was a bad man."

Owen said, "And Owen wanna go to mommy's white car and scream." I think he's telling me how he has felt from some other similar incidents at school but he doesn't have the words to describe what happened.

Why are we so alone in this world?

Scared.

 How scared do I have to be for the universe to protect me one day? I don’t want to be tough and fight anymore.

After work I picked up my kids. Little O was hungry so we went to his favorite noodle place to pick up food for home. We were lining up behind a man with a backpack. When the man finished his order, he turned and said to me “manage your child”. I taught Little O how to order and then I kept sitting on what that man told me. I decided to confront him.

He claimed that my child brushed his backpack and I had the responsibility to manage my child. I said I was managing my child the whole time and given how tiny the space was, it was inevitable for people to brush into each other. If he didn’t like how packed things are here, he can move somewhere else. He seemed a bit mentally deranged but he was quite articulate. I kept staring at him and he kept laughing. The more I stared at him the harder he laughed. He even wanted to take out his phone to film me. I said I have a minor here so you can’t film him, and also he has autism. If you do this, I will film you too.

Then another customer at the restaurant turned to me and said you can take your discussion outside; this is a place for people to eat. That made me even angrier. In this world, nobody is on my side. Nobody can protect me. I keep fighting while being terrified. Why does our life have to be like this?

This was the same shit that happened to us in New York last summer as well. A man at the restaurant did not like that my child was crying and told me to take my child outdoors until he’s calm. I went back into the restaurant after that man had left. Then I asked the manager and all the waitresses here why they let that man do that to us. They claimed that they didn’t know that’s what happened. I told them that they were discriminating against us for our race and our disability. He claimed that it wasn’t true and that man was a nice man because he was a frequent customer. My husband was there the whole time and he did not stand up for me. We left without having our food and Angel just told them that I believe my wife is right.

Dear X, where are you? I cannot live like this anymore. I am so scared and everything when something like this happens I just wanna hide and runaway. I want to take my kids to a safe place. Nobody can take care of me. In today’s incident Angel was just waiting in the car. He didn’t even see what happened. I had to relay the incident to him and he couldn’t really feel me. I’m starting to hate you X. Where the hell are you when I need you?

My last messages

Jes and I got into a conflict regarding mixed race kids. Here are my last messages to him:

Hey I’ve been doing some real deep thinking about what you said. From my own experience of having two biracial kids, people around me have been questioning nonstop whether some abnormality is attributed to the fact that they have white genes.

For example when I was pregnant with my first one, I puked so much. I puked every day until the day he was born and was sent to ER 3 times to get IV drips because I was too weak. However I was actually a physically healthy woman and no woman in my family had such bad morning sickness like I did. The doctors obviously couldn’t have any data on why this could be happening; they could only think that it was a tendency in my body. Many people thought that it was because genetically my kid was half white and the compatibility with Asian body is just not the same.

Both of my kids were born super large, larger than any other kid born in my family. People also think it’s because they’re half white. Because of their size I had to get a c-section twice. My younger one was so large that when he was born, he had a mild dysplasia (and still does, like very borderline abnormal).

As soon as they were born, people started to look at their eye color and hair color, their nose. All the places where you could look for white features. They were all curious what color they would be. A part of me felt lost because I don’t understand why their family couldn’t just accept them the way they are—two newborns in our family. Instead they had to focus on their physical features. This is what people do, inevitably. That’s why you said the data are subdued. Even if they were born completely Asian like me, people would still pay attention to whether their eyes are big, nose is pointy, mouth is small etc. but because kids are half white, those features became much easier to see and easier to distinguish. It almost feels like a part of the reason they’re loved is that they’re good looking (people here generally think that being close to white people’s standards of beauty is good looking).

And yes, like you said, that’s indeed unhealthy. When they were toddlers, I had to look out for people who secretly take pictures of them in public without my consent, because they’re like those babies in commercials. In Asia, even if a local clothing brand uses white or biracial babies for their commercials. I spent quite some energy to keep them in stealth mode. When people wanted to take pictures with them I turned them down and made sure the hood on their stroller was covering them. It was indeed unhealthy for them and for me to go through that, but most people would probably think it was no big deal and for those without self-esteem they’re probably jealous of this kind of attention. Like you said, this kind of data is indeed subdued and no scientist would be able to collect this kind of data from our life experience.

After they went to school fitting in is a problem. Most of the time I avoid thinking about their looks and skin color. They stood out in their schools because of behavioral problems and language problems. Both of them are more fluent in English than in Chinese but because of their behavioral problem the school we work at would not accept them. They had to go to local schools. They went to a private kindergarten where some expats would send their kids there. There their skin color is not unique. However when it comes to their behavioral problem other kids generally think that “oh it’s because they’re foreign. They don’t speak Chinese so they don’t understand what the teacher is saying.” The bizarre thing is, many Taiwanese kids have ADHD out there but their behaviors are just not as obvious as my kids’. Statistically every classroom should have at least one or two special needs kids, but they’re all somehow very obedient. Even in my son’s special ed class the other autistic kids or special needs kids are much more obedient than he is. I don’t know if his Irish genes played a role, but I wouldn’t let anyone collect this data anyway. 

Over the years I’ve even heard very stupid things from people around us—are they autistic because they have a white dad? Are they so naughty because they’re white? They’re not autistic; they’re just white and bilingual. They love to hug people; is it because they’re white? They talk a lot to themselves; is it because they’re white? It’s like everything different about them is being attributed to the uniqueness in their looks. Yes, our system is set up so that everyone sees colors. It’s universal. Even in racially homogeneous places like Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Vietnam etc people still appreciate men and women with lighter skin tone. Everyone intuitively looks for certain physical features. Us getting that kind of attention constantly is indeed unhealthy, but it’s nothing I can control. 

Am I racist? I think I have been. Remember when we met when I was 19, yes I dated almost exclusively white males. Having grown up in an abusive home with domestic violence and being indulged in American pop culture, it was my only survival strategy. I have been sexually harassed by boys since 4th grade at school and I’ve never told anyone about it and no one could protect me. Hollywood and pop culture in the US provided a refuge for my life. I totally bought into that and built this disillusion about white men. I had a puppy love with a Taiwanese guy at my school when I was 14. He and I rekindled multiple times later in our 20s in California but in the end he decided that we couldn’t have a future together because of my family circumstances and all the traumas I’ve been through require too much emotional resource.  After that abusive relationship I had in 2014, I went back to dating exotic men again. I dated one Indian British guy before I met my husband who had a gorgeous accent lol but that didn’t work out. In the end I decided that being with a white American was still the most familiar thing I could handle because after all I have enough experience navigating in the US system and talk to Americans they way they want to be talked to.

Had I chosen to marry a Taiwanese man, would things be healthier? Well, first I never had a choice in that. I dated multiple Taiwanese and Asian men, and look what happened to me. Besides being abused, I ended up being a third wheel to someone’s relationship multiple times. From my own marriage I have thought about whether life would be easier if I had married a Chinese or Taiwanese man who speaks my native language and can fully communicate with our kids. Would there be much more mutual understanding in our values so that I don’t have to explain every tiny thing cross culturally every day? Even worse, sometimes I wonder if my kids’ autism would have gone undetected if I had married a Taiwanese because some people think that their bilingualism is delaying their language development in each language. However, nobody has firm data on this. These doubts and struggles I have could be unhealthy for me, but given my life experiences I don’t think I was ever given a choice in anything. I’ve always gone with the flow after since I’ve learned my lesson hard in my twenties. I stopped fighting, stopped controlling. I say yes to whatever is presented in life to me. Therefore I dismiss all of these doubts. I only let one thing take over my life, that is my love for my children. No matter how unhealthy the environment is, I will be there to dodge every arrow at them. I want to protect them in every way possible like setting up a trust fund and hiring body guards for them so I’ll never have to worry about them not being independent and getting bullied from their disability when I’m gone, just like how you protect yours with bloodline and genetic proximity. I sometimes find it a blessing that they’re not very good at recognizing people’s faces and remembering people’s names and I have never taught them to differentiate people based on their skin color or appearance. I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this before they ask questions but I think I’ll leave the problem for my future self.

I have been very happy to be reconnected to you ten years later and have this honest reflection of myself. It reminds me of the unbearable lightness of my being and I can only stay anchored with loving and protecting my children.

You know the most nauseating thing was that in 2014, I actually tried to call your number at least 4 or 5 times, especially when I was really scared. Each time it went to your voicemail and the voicemail was a man’s voice that I couldn’t recognize. The only time it went through was the one on the last day of 2014, when you told me you just got married. When you told me you actually tried to find me contact info like my Facebook and email but you couldn’t find anything, I really almost puked. It really felt like the whole universe was against me.

***He’s read them. This is where I leave you.