Snapshots

In my talk therapy today, my talk therapist asked me if I recall my entire 2025, where would I stop?

I told her it would be last Saturday because I hadn’t laughed that hard for too many years. Maybe the last time I laughed that hard was when I was 21 and visited my friends in Manila. We were playing Taboo and we tried so hard to guess Pavarotti but it turned out the word on the flash card was paparazzi. I don’t know why word jokes would get me so hard. My therapist told me she was very moved that I could laugh like a little girl again, at something so simple and silly. I told her that I laughed so hard that I was tearing up and I think I almost pulled my stomach muscle. 

I also told her I don’t remember anything from this year before I went to Bali, before I reconnected with Jes. She thinks I had a psychologically rich year and at age 39 my life experiences have already doubled those of others. I agree, and I’m finally stopping feeling ashamed of my life experiences. Before this year, I carried all the shame that wasn’t mine. My birth, being a love child, being abused, being broke, being dismissed, being libeled, being a virgin before Angel, being a street teacher, being fat, failing the American dream, being abandoned, being forgotten, being the third wheel, my kids getting attention in public, apologizing for my kids’ behavior, everything that wasn’t mine—I don’t feel shameful anymore. I am proud of what I’ve overcome and I’ve survived. 

So where would I like to stop, besides all the teppanyaki jokes on Saturday? I guess there was the first time Eric and I hugged when we met up in June. That long, safe hug, from so much longing for both of us. I’d also stop at various moments when it was just me and the two kids having a good time, not having to worry about anyone else. A few days ago, I said to Little N, “mommy is scared.” He asked, “what are you scared of?” I said, “I don’t know.” He asked, “prisoners?” I said, “maybe, or some bad people.” He immediately hugged me and said, “don’t worry. I will take care of you.” That moment made my tears drop. Little N being autistic is able to say such compassionate things to me and I think it’s a miracle. Even Angel can’t express such compassion to me.

I’d also like to stop in the moment when I was standing on the cliff alone, looking at the ocean waves under the humid cloudy sky, breathing in humid air feeling so much protection.