I have had a terribly low self-esteem all my life. I come by it honestly as I’m from a culture that eschews saying anything positive about yourself or loved ones. It’s partly to ward off bad spirits, but it’s mostly just being assholes. That’s not true or fair, but it’s how I felt at the time. I already hated myself and then to hear nothing but negatives didn’t help my self-esteem at all. I was a weirdo in so many ways. My parents were immigrants who preferred to be in the old country. They had no use for American life and they stuck to everything Taiwanese.
As a result, I was a stranger in a strange land. They knew very little about American culture, so I was left to struggle on my own. I was fat, awkward, intelligent, and looked markedly different than everyone else. I was miserable and as soon as I realized I was going to die one day, I could not wait until it happened. I was seven, and for two decades, I spent every day wanting to die. Except I was too chicken to actually ever kill myself, so I begrudgingly got up every day and dragged myself through life.
I was deeply depressed. At times, almost catatonically so. The first year K and I were friends, I never reached out to her because, well, I’m not sure exactly why. In part it was because I didn’t reach out to anyone, but it was mostly because I could not believe someone as cool as her would want to be friends with a hot mess like me. About a year after we became friends, she asked me if I actually wanted her to call me. She said she didn’t mind, but she didn’t want to bother me if I didn’t want to be friends.
I was flabbergasted. It never occurred to me that she would feel insecure about me. She was and is the coolest woman I know. She’s the yang to my yin, and she’s the joy-bringer in my life. She’s the type who will say yes to everything that sounds remotely interesting, which has led us to many fine adventures. She supports me in everything I do, and she brings me back to reality when I start spinning out.
The fact that she felt unsure about me was an eye-opener. I called myself Guam (because I was an island), and she reminded me that I wasn’t. I told her that I wanted her to call me and that I loved having her in my life. Once we got that straightened out, things went swimmingly. We can talk every day or every other month, and we pick up as if no time has passed. We can be honest with each other in a way I we can’t be with anyone else.