Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: assets

Beautiful, flaws and all

In yesterday’s post, I was writing about flaws and positive attributes, then I wandered off the road as I tend to do. My main point was that we all have flaws. It’s part of being human. Think of how boring we would be if we didn’t.

There are flaws I have that I know I’m not going to change. Such as working to the back of a deadline. I will get an assignment/task done on time. However, I will get it done at the last minute possible. I do admire people who are able to do a task as soon as they get it (like pay a bill before that was all automated), but that’s not me. It caused me a lot of stress in college. Not because I didn’t get my assigments turned in on time; I did. But because I would waste the whole time before the deadline stressing about it.

I had a class in which the only grade for the whole semester was one paper at the end of said semester. That’s not entirely true. We were also graded on class participation, but that was maybe a quarter of the grade. Most of it was on one paper. The class was Psychology Through Biography. The assignment was to pick a person and write an analysis of their psychology. The professor was an older man who was very close to retirement and clearly could not give a fuck about the class. I liked him, but he was definitely a crotchety old man.

I chose Tina Turner after much consternation. I wanted to do an Asian women, but there were none of note at the time. Or rather, none for whom I could find enough resources to base a seventy-plus paper on. I also thought about seeing if I could interview a murderer–let me explain. At the time, there was a young black man (who went to my high school, by the way, when I did) who killed a gay senator and another gay man–and he wrote a manifesto about how much he hated gay men for spreading AIDS. He believed he had it himself, but it was never proven if he did or not (the fact that he’s sitting in a jail cell decades later says, probably not). He had been a student at Bethel College, a very Christian college, and he was clearly troubled. He had not shown that in high school, but he was strange–and that’s not me saying taht in retrospect.

I wanted to interview him, but I could not swing that, obviously. I decided Tina Turner would be an interesting case study because of her tragic history, but also because she was a woman of color in a time when that was not acceptable. More to the point, she was clearly sexual and had no qualms about showcasing t hat. Now, a conscientious student would have started researching in a month or so, then written the paper over the semester. I was not that conscientious student. I was and am very smart. Learning is easy for me, for the most part. This is both a blessing and a curse. It’s a blessing for obvious reasons, but it’s a curse because I rest on my laurels. I’m trying to not say I’m sazy so much, but, well, it’s not far from wrong.


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Sick of myself

I’ve been big upping myself lately, which I’m fine with. There are a few things about myself, however, that really annoy the fuck out of me. Some are different since I got out of the hospital, but some are, annoyingly, the same since I was a kid.

The biggest one is my manic need to people-please. This started when I was a kid and had to tiptoe around my parents’ (yes, plural) moods. It wasn’t just my father and his violent mood swings, but also my mother and her constant depression. She should have seen a therapist when she was first married, but her belief was therapy for thee, but not for me (her). Instead, she dumped it all on me and expected me to caretake her. Not my brother because he was a boy and because he was not good with emotions. But I, on the other hand, had to be her emotional dumping grounds because I was female and because I was extremely sensitive to other people’s emotions. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been as sensitive to people’s emotions if my mother hadn’t forced me to be her confidante when I was eleven. I feel like my sensitivity is innate, but it’s hard to say when I had to do it for my mother 24/7. I can’t help but sense what other people are feeling, no matter how much I tried to shield myself from it. Even when it’s a chat and people are typing, I can sense what people are feeling.

And I’m always eager to step in and make sure that no one feels left out. That’s not a bad thing, necessarily, but I push it to the extreme. It’s not my job to make sure everyone feels included, but it certainly feels like it.

I’m trying to pull back a bit, but it’s not easy to change a lifetime habit. It doesn’t help that my mother still insists on dumping all her emotional drama on me. She tries to say it’s part of being a child (duty to parents’ emotional well-being or some such bullshit), which may be more true in Taiwan than it America, but not to the extent that she insists it is.

If I were to tell her the brutal truth, I would say that I didn’t have kids in part because of her. I hated the idea of fucking up another generation with the deep family dysfunction. I knew that if I had kids,  I would not have been strong enough to protect them from my parents. If I wanted children at all, that might be a hard decision, but because I never wanted them, it was easy-peasy. When my mother said she would come back to help with my kids if I had them (which, yeah, sure. Not if my father didn’t want to move back), I almost had a panic attack. Remember, I never wanted kids, but just the mere thought of my mother being around my mythical children made me want to move somewhere without giving her a forwarding address.


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Life goals

I have stated several times that I am better than I ever was. My medical crisis was the best thing to happen to me, and, yet, that doesn’t mean I’m magically without flaws. I still talk too much and get mean when I’m tired or short of energy. I’m lazy and a slob, and I tend to procrastinate when I don’t want to do something. It makes it a bigger deal than it needs to be. I know I’m doing this, but cannot stop myself from doing it.

It’s been eye-opening to see my brother working the dating apps. He does it while he’s here so I jump into it as well. I’m on Bumble and OkCupid, but I haven’t really done anything with either. I don’t like that you can only be a man or a woman on Bumble, though I do like that I don’t have to put up with dick pics before even getting a ‘hello’. So. Many. Dick. Pics on Craigslist.

I like that OkCupid allows for a wide variety of genders as well as sexual orientations and relationship choices. You can be polyamorous in different ways,  or you could just be looking for sex. But it’s overwhelming in other ways, which makes me just not want to use it at all.

For example. You cannot save a profile for later. You have to swipe right or left immediately. I understand why they made this choice, but I don’t like it. I want to be able to think and ponder before making a decision. Yes, I know if you swipe right on Bumble, you have 24 hours before you have to message, but that’s still pressure.

My brother is quick to swipe left or right. He sends a brief message and if he gets a reply, suggests they chat on the app or meet up in person. When I used to use Craigslist, I would message with someone several times before feeling comfortable enough to meet them in person. That could be because of gender dynamics, which was certainly part of the issue. But, it’s also that I’m a ditherer, and I rarely make decisions in an appropriate timeframe.

I wish I could be more like my brother.  I’ve been thinking about dating for ages. My last relationship was a decade ago, and it was spectacularly bad. I was love-bombed from the start and fell for it completely. He was a sexist, narcissistic, touchy, alcoholic lout who should not in any way have been in a relationship. I’m no angel by any means, but I did not deserve to feel like I constantly had to tiptoe around his fragile male ego.


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I am definitely not flawless

For most of my life, I have been focused on all my flaws. I could barely see any of my positives and I was unhappy with myself in general. The psychologist Carl Jung talks about the shadow as the dark, negative side of a person that they either are unaware exists or actively try to deny. Usually, it’s the negative behaviors and ideas that a person does and has, including their flaws.

For me, my shadow has been my positive side. I have no problem listening my flaws and my negative attributes. I would do them at the drop of a hat and at length. I was comfortable with my negative side because I felt like I was worthy. It was drilled in my head that it was wrong to show pride in yourself. You were supposed to be humble and never brag, which morphed into the need to debase yourself in front of others lest they get the wrong idea.

Taiji helped me with that. I went from thinking that I didn’t deserve to live and that I would let someone kill me rather than fight to not wanting to fight someone, but willing to do it if necessary. I was walking the circle with DeerHorn Knives (Bagua, not Taiji) as a substitute for meditation when I couldn’t do the latter because of flashbacks. I loved the DeerHorn Knives (and I would love to have real ones, not practice ones) and walking the circle was very meditative. I focused on the middle of the circle which was where your opponent would be. I had a flash of “It’s either him or me” and  choosing me before it disappeared.

I talked about it with my teacher afterwards because it shook me up. I had been a pacifist up until that moment, so the idea that I would actually deliberately choose to kill someone rattled me. Granted, it was because he was going to kill me, but still. She said that it was common for women to be raised to be nice and to be averse to violence of any kind. It was how they were kept in place and it was based in sexism and the patriarchy. She said that she had to teach men how to CTFO and not take everything as a challenge, but she had to teach women how to be more assertive and not shy away from confrontation. Or rather, run away as the first option, but be ready to fight if need be. When she said that, it made sense. I was raised to believe that as a female-shaped person, my greatest value was in what I could do for others. I didn’t have any intrinsic value in and of myself, and I must never forget that. From the time when I was eleven and my mother made me her confidante, I was imbued with the belief that I had to do for others to be worth anything.


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